The air was cold - then again, mountain air usually WAS cold. A chill wind bit at Raditsu's face even as he pulled his thick coat tighter about his burly form. "I don't see why we have to do this in someplace so COLD," he complained to Broli, who stood nearby.

"Dai is a demon," Broli responded. "He won't come here willingly, so he won't be able to see us create the illusion."

"Who won't he come here?"

"He comes from a much warmer climate, you understand."

"I'd almost prefer that to this," the Saiyajin said sourly, hunkering down further into his coat.

Further down the mountain, Piccolo Daimaou and Kami were standing on a ridge overlooking a craterlike depression. The deity wore his usual blue and white robes, while the demonic Daimaou was garbed in new garments - a white cape with flaring shoulder plates, a white turban, a navy fighting suit, and pointed shoes. The two being spoke in a musical language that Raditsu couldn't even begin to interpret.

"I wonder what they're talking about," Kakarotto said to himself.

"Go ask them," Kuririn put in.

"Ah... no thanks. I'm not going to piss off the god of Earth."

Kami finally turned and raised one hand. "It's agreed," he called. "We're going to form the illusion."

Raditsu watched intently as the ancient deity turned towards Piccolo Daimaou. The demon extended his clawed right hand, fingers splayed, and rested it on Kami's chest. The two green beings stared at each other for a moment...

And without warning, Kami began to melt into Daimaou's hand.

"What the hell?!" Raditsu half-screamed, starting involuntarily.

"Easy!" Bardock snapped, grasping his son's shoulder. "This is necessary."

"What?"

"Piccolo is reabsorbing Kami. This is what they meant by Fusion."

By now Kami had reverted entirely into the gooey silver liquid, a liquid which was rapidly being sucked into Daimaou's body. The demon's muscles rippled, and his face contorted into a mask of concentration, as if the process of absorbing his counterpart caused him pain. Raditsu watched in stunned silence as the last of the liquid seeped into Piccolo, and the green demon slouched over, breathing heavily.

"Dear sweet lord," Kiwi breathed. "His power level is massive."

Raditsu sent out a quick probing thought, and almost fell over. The ki surges emanating from Piccolo's body were absolutely overwhelming. [Damn, he's powerful,] the Saiyajin thought, awed.

After a moment, the demon seemed to recover, then looked up at the group situated above him. "Hold tight," he called. "I'll start the illusion." Without another word, the green demon turned and folded his hands together.

Raditsu had seen ki used for many purposes before, but he had never seen magic at all - therefore, he didn't know what to expect. He started in surprise as a hollow rushing noise sounded in his mind. Piccolo was suddenly enfolded in a silvery nimbus; an amorphous blob of the same color took shape in the depression below.

"I haven't seen anyone use magic in a dog's age," Bardock mumbled.

Nobody replied. All eyes were riveted on the silver light in the depression. Slowly, agonizingly, the light began to fragment and solidify into humanoid shapes. After five minutes or so, the lights faded into the shapes of human beings. A sudden babble of voices filled the air. The silver aura around Piccolo faded, and he slumped forward wearily.

"Shit," Kakarotto said simply.

Raditsu ignored him, instead savoring the small surge of triumph that sprung up within him. The illusion was ready. And with a little luck, they'd take down Dai Shinnoma once and for all.