The morning air was crisp, carrying a chill that made everyone pull their jackets a little tighter. Gray clouds hung low over the tournament grounds, threatening rain but not quite delivering. It was the kind of day that made you feel like something big was about to happen.
Future Gohan arrived first, moving through the empty arena like a ghost. His footsteps barely made a sound on the concrete as he found his usual spot near the edge of the fighting ring. He stood there, hands clasped behind his back, staring at the platform where so much blood had already been spilled.
The sound of footsteps made him turn. Goku emerged from the tunnel leading to the waiting area, looking surprisingly alert for someone who usually needed three alarm clocks and Chi-Chi yelling at him to get up.
Their eyes met across the arena floor.
For a moment, neither spoke. There was something electric in the air between them—not ki, but understanding. They both knew. Everyone else was just going through the motions now. The real final had been decided the moment the brackets were drawn.
Future Gohan broke the silence first. "Up early, Goku?"
"Yeah." Goku scratched the back of his head, but his usual goofy grin was absent. "Couldn't sleep. Guess you couldn't either."
"Sleep's overrated anyway."
They stood there in comfortable silence, two warriors who'd been shaped by completely different worlds but understood each other perfectly. The arena felt smaller with both of them in it, like the space itself was holding its breath.
"You know," Goku said eventually, "I've been looking forward to this since the tournament started."
"Have you?" Future Gohan's tone was neutral, but there was something underneath it. Anticipation, maybe. Or hunger.
"Hell yes. Everyone else has been fun, don't get me wrong. But you..." Goku's expression grew serious. "You're different. You fight like someone who's seen the end of the world and decided to punch it in the face."
Future Gohan actually smiled at that. "Crude, but accurate."
The sound of voices echoed through the tunnels as the others began arriving. The moment between them broke, but the understanding remained.
---
Vegeta strutted in like he owned the place, which wasn't unusual. What was unusual was the way he immediately zeroed in on Future Gohan.
"Still hiding your power level, I see," he said without preamble.
"Good morning to you too, Vegeta."
"Don't play coy with me. Yesterday's fight with the fusion brat... that wasn't even a warm-up for you, was it?"
Future Gohan shrugged. "Gotenks is strong. But he fights with his heart, not his head. That makes him predictable."
"Tch. And what about him?" Vegeta jerked his head toward Goku. "Think he's predictable too?"
"Goku?" Future Gohan looked over at the Saiyan, who was now doing stretches that would've put a yoga instructor to shame. "No. He's the opposite of predictable. That's what makes him dangerous."
Piccolo arrived next, followed closely by present-day Gohan. The Namekian immediately sensed the tension in the air.
"Feels like a storm's coming," he muttered.
"Weather's been weird all morning," present Gohan agreed, then paused. His eyes moved between his father and his alternate self. "Or maybe that's not the kind of storm you meant."
"Smart kid," Piccolo said approvingly. "Your counterpart there has been coiled like a spring since yesterday. And your father... when's the last time you saw him this focused before a fight?"
Gohan thought about it. "Not since Majin Buu, maybe. Even then, he was more... playful. This is different."
Krillin wandered over, looking like he'd been dragged out of bed by his hair. "Man, why does everything interesting happen so damn early? Some of us need our beauty sleep."
"You'd need a lot more than sleep," Android 18 said dryly, appearing beside him with Marron in tow.
"Ouch. Love you too, dear."
Android 17 showed up looking like he'd been awake for hours, which he probably had. "Nice atmosphere. Very 'calm before the shitstorm.'"
"Language," 18 warned, covering Marron's ears.
"The kid's heard worse from her uncle Krillin."
"Hey!"
Tien and Chiaotzu arrived together, as always. Tien took one look around and crossed his arms.
"Everyone's on edge," he observed. "This tournament's brought out something in all of us."
"Competition does that," Chiaotzu said in his soft voice. "Makes people show their true selves."
Yamcha jogged in, apparently having decided to get some morning exercise. "What's with all the serious faces? Did someone die?"
"Just the mood," Piccolo replied. "Yesterday's fights changed things."
"No kidding. That match between Goku and Gohan..." Yamcha shook his head. "I've never seen power like that. And then Future Gohan completely dismantling Gotenks like he was solving a math problem. Makes a guy wonder what he's even doing here."
"You're here because you earned it," Krillin said firmly. "Don't sell yourself short."
"Thanks, but let's be realistic. I'm a B-league player in an A-league tournament."
Android 17 smirked. "At least you're honest about it."
The remaining Z-fighters trickled in over the next few minutes. Master Roshi, moving slower than usual but still sharp-eyed. Uub, quiet and observant as always. Even Mr. Satan showed up, probably hoping to get some good publicity shots.
Future Trunks arrived with Future Bulma, both looking like they'd been having an intense conversation.
"Any idea what they were talking about?" present Trunks asked, nodding toward his alternate self.
"Probably strategizing," Vegeta replied. "In their timeline, every fight is tactical. No room for improvisation when losing means extinction."
Bulma stepped up to the announcer's podium, tablet in hand, looking unusually nervous. The small crowd of family members and warriors had gathered near the front, while the packed stadium buzzed with excitement behind them.
"Alright everyone," she said, tapping the microphone. "Welcome to what promises to be an incredible day of— Welcome everyone, and for the semi fi—"
A gut-wrenching scream tore through the air.
"TRUNKSSS!!!!!"
The sound was filled with such raw fury that birds scattered from the trees surrounding the arena. Everyone's heads snapped skyward.
"GOHAN!!!!!"
A figure descended from the clouds like a falling star, but there was nothing heavenly about this arrival. He moved with predatory grace, his face twisted in absolute rage.
"MORTALS!!" The voice boomed across the arena, making the stadium's speakers seem like whispers. "Do you know how much I have chased both of you? Do you know how many timelines I've passed through, making myself known to the gods? My fate is almost certain because of you vermin, but before my final battle with the gods, I will punish ALL of you for existing!"
Most of the crowd stared in confused terror. But Future Trunks and Future Gohan went white as sheets.
"T-there's no way," Future Gohan stammered, his usual composure completely shattered. "He got out of that timeline and found us here?"
Future Trunks clenched his fists so hard his knuckles went white. "This can't be happening. We sealed him away!"
The present timeline warriors looked between their future counterparts and the figure hovering above them.
Goku's expression went from confused to deadly serious in seconds. "That ki... it's like Gohan's, but wrong. Twisted."
Present Gohan took an unconscious step backward. "That's... that's supposed to be me?"
Vegeta's pride warred with tactical awareness as he studied the newcomer.
"His power... it's immense. But there's something else. Something weird mixed in with Saiyan energy."
Piccolo's face was stone, but his voice was tight. "I can feel the malice from here. This isn't just another strong opponent. This thing wants to hurt people."
The figure floating above them—Gohan Black—stopped clutching his face and looked down at them with eyes that burned with divine fury.
His hair was dark, his gi a twisted mirror of present Gohan's, but everything about him radiated corruption.
"Even in this pathetic timeline, you gather together like insects," he sneered. "How fitting that I'll exterminate you all at once."
Future Bulma grabbed Future Trunks' arm, her face pale with remembered horror.
Gohan Black's aura suddenly exploded outward as he transformed. But this wasn't the golden light of a Super Saiyan. This was something else entirely—a brilliant, divine pink that made the air itself seem to bleed.
"Super Saiyan Rose," Future Gohan breathed, and the fear in his voice made everyone's blood run cold.
The pressure hit them like a physical blow. The tournament platform cracked. Stadium lights exploded in showers of sparks. People in the crowd were pressed into their seats by the sheer weight of his ki.
Krillin dropped to one knee, sweat beading on his forehead. "What the hell is this power?"
"Its Another kinda of ki combined with Saiyan energy," Master Roshi gasped, his sunglasses sliding down his nose. "I've never felt anything like it."
Android 17 and 18 exchanged glances, both looking genuinely concerned for the first time since the tournament began.
"This is bad," 17 said simply.
Marron started crying, overwhelmed by the oppressive atmosphere. Android 18 pulled her daughter close, her own hands shaking slightly.
Present Trunks looked at his future counterpart with wide eyes. "This is what you've been running from?"
"Among other things," Future Trunks replied through gritted teeth. "He's not just strong. He's insane. Completely obsessed with what he calls 'divine justice.'"
Gohan Black descended slowly, savoring their fear like fine wine. As his feet touched the tournament platform, the concrete beneath him turned to dust.
"Look at you all," he said, his voice carrying clearly despite speaking normally.
"Trembling before true power. Before justice itself."
Chi-Chi had gone pale, one hand pressed to her mouth. "That's... that's my son's face. But those eyes..."
Videl pulled Pan behind her, the little girl's earlier excitement replaced by pure terror. "That's not Gohan. That's not my husband."
"No," Present Gohan said, his own power beginning to flicker to life. "It's not."
Gohan Black's rose-colored aura pulsed, and every warrior in the area felt their own ki respond involuntarily—not in harmony, but in revulsion, like their bodies were rejecting his very presence.
"The irony is delicious," Black continued, his smile cold and perfect. "Here I find not just the insects I've been hunting, but an entire nest of them. And this version of Future Gohan..."
His eyes locked onto present Gohan. "How wonderfully pure. How disgustingly naive. I almost pity you."
Present Gohan's fists clenched. "I don't know what you are, but you're not me. You'll never be me."
Black laughed, and the sound was like breaking glass. "Oh, but I am you. I'm what you could become if you truly understood the beauty of absolute justice. If you embraced the divine right to judge these worthless mortals."
Future Gohan stepped forward, his own power beginning to rise despite his fear. "You're wrong. You were always wrong. Strength isn't about judging others. It's about protecting them."
"Protect?" Black's expression twisted with disgust. "Protect these insects who breed like viruses across the universe? These mortals who destroy everything they touch?" His aura flared brighter. "You still don't understand. I am salvation. I am the cure for the disease called mortality."
"Everyone get back!" Goku shouted, but there was nowhere to go.
That's when Future Gohan snapped.
"WHAT WILL YOU FEEL, HUH?" he screamed, his voice cracking with raw fury. "WHAT WILL YOU FEEL WHEN A MORTAL DEFEATS YOU?"
Time seemed to slow as Future Gohan exploded forward. In the span of 0.0000001 seconds, his body underwent transformations that should have been impossible to chain together—first the brilliant white aura of Mystic form blazed around him, then immediately compressed and condensed into his perfected Super Saiyan 2, golden lightning crackling around a power so dense it warped the air around him.
The speed was beyond comprehension. One moment he was standing with the group, the next his fist connected with Gohan Black's jaw.
The impact was like a meteor hitting the earth.
A shockwave erupted from the point of contact, shattering every remaining window in the stadium. The tournament platform disintegrated beneath them. Trees in the surrounding forest were flattened for miles in every direction.
For a split second, everyone watched in stunned silence as Black's head snapped to the side, his perfect divine composure finally cracked.
But then Black slowly turned his head back, a thin line of golden blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. His rose-colored eyes met Future Gohan's, and his smile was absolutely terrifying.
"Impressive," he said, his voice still perfectly calm despite the devastating hit. "You actually made me bleed."
Before Future Gohan could react, Black's fist shot forward like a cannon blast. The punch caught Future Gohan square in the chest, and the sound of impact was like thunder splitting the sky.
Future Gohan rocketed backward through the air, his body spinning uncontrollably as he shot toward the horizon like a golden comet. He disappeared from sight in seconds, leaving only a trail of disturbed air and the lingering scent of ozone.
Black flexed his fingers, examining his knuckles with clinical interest. "Twenty years of preparation, and that's all you could manage? How thoroughly disappointing."
"He..." Present Gohan's voice was barely a whisper. "He hit him that hard, and Black barely moved."
"The power difference," Vegeta said, his voice tight with barely controlled anger. "It's not even close."
Future Trunks clenched his fists, his entire body shaking. "Sensei... damn it, Gohan!"
Black dusted off his hands as if he'd just swatted a particularly annoying fly. "Now then, where were we? Ah yes, the cleansing of this pathetic timeline."