The yellow cloud sea of the Other World stretched out into an infinite, timeless horizon, framed by an amber sky that never dimmed or changed. Snaking straight through this quiet, etheric expanse was the pale, scaled back of Snake Way—a million-kilometer stone pathway winding above the mists of the Check-In Station.
Under normal circumstances, dead souls allowed to retain their bodies spent months exhausting themselves along this winding track. But for living bodies possessing power levels well into the five figures, the vast distance was reduced to a matter of mere hours.
Two high-velocity displacement trails cut through the yellow haze, roaring down the center of the stone path.
Goku and Gohan moved at speeds that defied standard physical boundaries. The sheer kinetic pressure of their passage parted the thick mists for miles on either side, creating a continuous sonic boom that echoed off the ancient scales beneath their boots. Their baseline power turned the grueling trial into a focused, long-distance sprint.
It was also a good thing that the two had eaten a Senzu Bean before making this trip—not for the healing properties, but for the property of making a person feel full for 10 days. Then they carried a large bottle of water each that they could drink along the way.
"How are your legs holding up, Gohan?" Goku called out, his voice easily carrying over the rush of the displaced ether. He maintained a smooth, low-impact stride beside his son, his orange gi fluttering violently against the slipstream.
"I'm okay, Dad!" Gohan replied, his small boots blurring as they struck the stone path in perfect rhythm. His dark eyes were bright with determination, a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead being instantly swept away by the wind. "My ankles felt a little stiff near the halfway mark, but breathing the way Yuzu showed me helped!"
"That's my boy," Goku grinned, giving a brief thumbs-up. "Keep that rhythm. We've been running for a few hours straight and I can feel the presence of King Kai getting stronger. We're almost there!"
Ahead of them, the serpent's tail curled sharply upward, pointing like a rigid needle toward a tiny, reddish sphere suspended in the mists above.
"There it is!" Goku shouted, adjusting his stance. "On three, give it everything you've got and launch off the tail! One... two... three!"
Father and son planted their boots simultaneously into the very tip of Snake Way, shattering the ancient stone scales under a sudden, massive burst of kinetic propulsion. They shot straight up into the ether like twin orange meteors, escaping the atmospheric grip of the pathway and breaching the gravitational field of the tiny celestial body above.
The transition was instantaneous and brutal.
The moment they crossed the invisible threshold of King Kai's atmosphere, an immense, suffocating weight slammed down upon their shoulders. The planetoid possessed a gravitational pull ten times stronger than Earth's—a sudden, crushing downward drag that seized their momentum mid-air and dragged them down toward the green lawn.
Goku landed first, his knees bending deep to absorb the sudden surge of inertia. His boots sank two inches into the dense, immaculate grass with a dull thud. Gohan hit the ground right beside him, stumbling forward as his small frame adjusted to the heavy atmosphere. His arms reflexively shot out to catch his balance, his chest heaving as he took his first deep breath of the dense, heavy air.
"Whoa!" Goku chuckled, slowly straightening his spine. He rolled his shoulders, feeling the thick, rubbery tension pulling at his muscles. "Now that's a heavy gravity field. It feels like wearing lead armor over your whole body."
"It's... it's so heavy, Dad," Gohan panted, wiping his brow with the back of his forearm. He lifted one foot, watching the blades of grass snap right back up as if reinforced by iron wire. "It feels like trying to walk through wet mud."
"That's because the mass density of this little planet is off the charts," Goku explained, taking a slow, deliberate step forward to gauge his movement. "When a tiny object has that much mass packed into it, the gravitational pull gets pulled tight into a dense sphere. It's heavy, but your body can handle it. Just stay grounded and let your posture take the weight, not your lower back."
Gohan nodded, taking a deep, controlled breath and centering his weight over his hips just as his father suggested. Slowly, the crushing sensation melted into a firm, manageable resistance.
Across the small lawn, a red tiled roof poked out from behind a stand of thick, alien trees. Sitting parked under a shade tree was a sleek, vintage roadster, and lounging beside a small brick house was a large, black gorilla and a tiny, hovering grasshopper-like creature.
Standing right at the edge of the dirt driveway, hands tucked behind his back, was a short, round deity wearing a black traditional robe, dark sunglasses, and long, thin antennae twitching atop his cap.
King Kai stood frozen, his mouth slightly agape behind his high collar. His antennae twitched frantically, sending small static sparks into the air as his telepathic sensors processed the two figures standing on his front lawn.
"Impossible..." King Kai muttered, his voice raspy with utter disbelief. "You... you walked Snake Way? The whole thing?"
"Hey there!" Goku called out with a bright wave, taking easy, measured strides across the heavy grass toward the house. "You must be King Kai! I'm Goku, and this is my son, Gohan. Kami sent us!"
"I know who you are!" King Kai shouted, throwing his hands up in the air, his sunglasses slipping down his nose. "What I don't understand is how you're here already! King Yamma only approved your transfer request yesterday afternoon! Snake Way is a million kilometers long! Even the fastest souls take a few months of nonstop running to reach here."
"We ran pretty fast," Goku said simply, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. "We took a couple of water breaks and kept a steady pace, but we didn't stop to rest so we managed to cross it in under 10 hours."
King Kai stared at Goku, then at Gohan, his antennae stiffening like iron rods. "Under twenty-four hours... A million kilometers..." He pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a long, wheezing sigh.
He stepped closer, circling Goku and Gohan while peering closely through his dark lenses. He noted the easy, fluid way both moved despite the heavy gravity. They weren't gasping for air; their heart rates were steady, and their muscles were already adapting to the baseline strain of the ten-fold field.
"Well," King Kai muttered, tapping his chin with his finger. "I suppose that explains why Kami chose you two, then. Very well, you have much to learn here, Goku, Gohan."
King Kai skipped the idea of making him laugh due to the seriousness of the situation. Frieza was someone that everyone should take seriously. And thus, the training of Son Gohan and Goku under King Kai begins.
—Mount Paozu: Son Household—
The northern wind howling through the valley carried the sharp scent of ozone and scorched earth, but the sky above Mount Paozu was clear and warm in the morning after Wheelo was killed.
At the edge of the Son household's clearing, a sudden displacement ripple parted the high grass. Piccolo touched down smoothly, his white cape settling around his broad shoulders. In his left arm, he held Chi-Chi, who blinked against the bright sunlight, completely unharmed and looking as vibrant as if she had just woken up from a long, restful sleep.
And Yuzu, well she was still quite bloodied from the events yesterday. She just crashed into her bed after she got home and the adrenaline wore off.
"Mom!" Yuzu called out, taking a step toward them.
Chi-Chi dropped lightly to her feet, immediately smoothing down her apron before sweeping Yuzu into a tight, fierce embrace. She pressed her cheek against her daughter's hair, letting out a long, shuddering breath. "I'm right here, sweetie. I'm right here. Master Korin fixed me right up with a Senzu Bean. Are you okay? Did that awful metal thing hurt you?"
"I'm fine, Mom," Yuzu murmured softly into Chi-Chi's shoulder, her small arms wrapping around her mother's waist. She could feel the steady, strong rhythm of Chi-Chi's heart, alive and healthy.
Piccolo unclipped a small, tan leather pouch from his belt and tossed it toward Yuzu. "Normally, I wouldn't do this, but that damn cat sent these. Just finished growing this morning, he said. We have about 30 extra, since that fatass didn't get the chance to eat them."
Yuzu caught the pouch in mid-air. Opening the drawstring, she pulled out a single, green bean and popped it into her mouth. This was the first time she had ever seen one in person and eaten one herself.
'They really do taste like fish, huh? And the texture of colour, really is like an under-riped bean and celery stalk.'
The moment her teeth crushed the Senzu, a wave of liquid warmth flooded her system. The microscopic fractures in her arm bones fused instantly; the bruised tissue along her ribs knit together with a sharp, soothing prickle. But as her physical damage dissolved, something far more profound occurred deep within her cellular structure.
The air around Yuzu suddenly grew unnaturally thick.
A silent, invisible wave of kinetic pressure expanded outward from her frame. The blades of grass surrounding her boots flattened against the dirt as if pressed down by an invisible iron weight. The air molecules themselves seemed to vibrate, humming with a low, resonant frequency that caused the dust on the wooden porch steps to jump.
Piccolo's onyx eyes widened. He took an involuntary half-step back, his throat tightening as he felt the energy radiating from the five-year-old girl.
Near the woodpile, Vegeta's head snapped toward her.
'Those beans could heal people? What insanity was this?'
Vegeta had seen some truly mystical things over the years working under Frieza—he had wiped out entire planetary populations that relied on magic rather than raw force—and never had he imagined or seen such a bean's existence. He had seen magical healing before, he had seen healing liquid—he used Healing Pods after all. But this was absurd. A simple legume that restored a body to peak physical condition in a split second?
Yuzu took a slow, deep breath, controlling the power so effectively it was like she hadn't received a power boost at all. She looked over at the woodpile, tossing two Senzu beans across the yard.
Vegeta caught his reflexively, while Nappa scrambled to pick up the one that landed in the dirt beside his splintered arm.
"Eat them, they'll heal you instantly."
Vegeta stared suspiciously at the tiny bean in his calloused palm. He glanced at Yuzu, then at Chi-Chi, who was currently bustling toward the porch to fetch a broom. Gritting his teeth, the Prince shoved the bean into his mouth and swallowed.
An instant later, a sharp, popping sound echoed from his torso.
Vegeta gasped as his shattered ribs snapped back into perfect alignment, his torn muscle fibers reweaving themselves in a flash of heat that left him breathless. Beside him, Nappa let out a loud shout, ripping his wooden splint off his arm and flexing his massive, fully restored fingers in utter disbelief.
"What... what kind of sorcery is this?" Nappa bellowed, staring at his arm. "My arm was smashed to splints! It feels like it was never touched!"
Vegeta stood up slowly from the stone, rolling his shoulders and flexing his spine. His body felt lighter, stronger, completely whole. The Saiyan Power—the adaptive genetic trait of Saiyans—had activated refining his physical limits after coming back from the brink of defeat.
"There now, let's start training."
—Yuzu POV—
I led them away from the house, leaving the comfortable dirt of our yard behind for the wilder, untouched stretches of the Paozu range.
The valley I chose was a few miles north—a deep, natural basin surrounded by sheer rock walls and dense pine forests. It was quiet. The only sounds were the wind rushing through the needles and the cold, distant rush of a mountain river. It was the perfect environment for what I needed to drill into the thick skulls of two alien conquerors.
Vegeta and Nappa followed in complete silence. They were fully healed, their bodies restored to peak condition by the Senzu beans, but the arrogant swagger that usually rolled off them was entirely gone, replaced by a tense, calculating caution. They didn't understand how a single bite of a bitter plant had fused shattered bone and knit torn muscle in seconds.
As we reached the center of the grassy basin, a massive shockwave rattled the pine trees behind us, violently shaking a flock of birds into the sky.
Nappa flinched, his head whipping around toward the eastern ridge. Vegeta just gritted his teeth, staring at the distant dust cloud rising over the tree line.
I didn't even look back. I already knew what it was. Mom and Piccolo had taken up the adjacent ridge for their own sparring session. The two had decided to take up training together while Dad and Gohan were away.
"Sit down," I ordered, stopping in the middle of the clearing and turning to face the two Saiyans.
Nappa blinked, looking down at the grass, then back at me. He cracked his massive knuckles, a confused scowl crossing his face. "Sit down? We're fully healed. I thought we were going to fight. I need to test this body out."
"You don't need to punch anything right now," I said smoothly, crossing my arms over my chest. "If you try to spar right now, you'll just waste energy thrashing around like you always do. Sit."
Vegeta stared at me, his dark eyes narrowed in deep suspicion, but he slowly lowered himself onto the grass, crossing his legs into a stiff, uncomfortable seated position. Nappa grumbled under his breath, his massive shoulders slumping, before he dropped down heavily beside his prince.
"Your entire military doctrine relies on Scouters," I began, pacing slowly in front of them. "You use technology to tell you where your enemies are, how strong they are, and whether you should fight directly or back off. It's a crutch—and a terrible one when compared to direct Ki Sensing. Your lenses were smashed back on the battlefield, so right now, you two are practically deaf and blind to the world around you."
I stopped in front of them, looking down at the two fully grown, hardened space conquerors sitting cross-legged in the grass like preschool students waiting for storytime. The sheer absurd irony of it almost made me crack a smile. Here was the feared Prince of all Saiyans and his mid-class brute taking direct instruction from a five-and-a-half-year-old girl in an orange tunic.
"You've both seen what happens when you rely on those toys, Raditz relied on his scouter right up until Mom put a fist through his chest on Kame Island months ago. You didn't make the same mistake because you knew that we could hide our power, but if we still decided to hold back some power, you'd have never known. I could have been 25,000, not 16,800 and you'd have never known because you relied on information the scouter provided."
It could very well have been the case. But no, 16,800 was my Power level two days ago, but the Zenkai I got after eating that bean increased my power massively. Who knows where it sat in the number scale now. And paired with that…
"Close your eyes," I commanded, stepping closer. "Stop looking with your eyes and stop listening with your ears. The atmosphere around you isn't empty. Every living thing—the grass beneath your boots, the pine trees on the ridge, the birds in the sky, and especially the three of us—is constantly radiating energy."
Nappa squeezed his eyes shut, his massive face contorting into a tight, frustrated grimace. "I don't feel anything except the wind and my own legs going numb, kid."
"Describing Ki Sense is hard, Nappa," I continued, pacing a small arc in front of them. "You cannot describe sight to the blind. You can only give them a general idea of what it is like to observe the world around them. Learning to Sense Ki is like going from blind to seeing."
Nappa's jaw worked in frustration, but he kept his eyes shut. Beside him, Vegeta remained still as a statue, his breathing measured and shallow, though his brow was tightly knit in concentration.
I sat down cross-legged on the grass directly across from them, closing my own eyes to set the anchor.
"Meditation is where it starts. Bring your awareness inward first. Feel your heart beating, the air entering your lungs, the blood moving through your veins. Your Ki isn't a separate tool you draw out like a blaster—it's the very vitality keeping you alive. Once you can feel your own energy without throwing it around, you can start to feel the resonance of the world outside."
For several long minutes, the basin was silent save for the rustle of pine needles and the distant, dull thuds of Mom and Piccolo sparring over the northern ridge. I monitored the two Saiyans closely.
At first, Nappa's internal signature was a chaotic, spiked mess—a harsh, jagged pressure that kept flickering as he tried too hard. Vegeta, however, was already adjusting. His pride was a heavy anchor, but his instinct was far sharper. He began drawing his leaking energy back into his core, the harsh edge of his baseline signature smoothing out into a tightly compressed knot.
Nappa's eyes snapped open in surprise a second later. "Wait... what was that? Over the hill—it feels like a huge, heavy wall of pressure moving back and forth."
"That's Mom and Piccolo," I said smoothly. "You're sensing their energy."
"Good, now try it on me."
Vegeta opened his dark eyes, staring directly at me. His pupils dilated slightly. To his physical vision, I was sitting right in front of him. But to his newly awakened energy sense, I must have been invisible.
"You're completely suppressed," Vegeta muttered, his voice gravelly with bitter realization. "You're sitting two feet away, and if I closed my eyes, I'd swear the grass was empty."
"I am lowering my power to that of an average Earthling's right now. Which is quite weak, but the next ability you are going to learn is how to conceal and suppress your power, then how to raise it back up. Ki Suppression and Increasing." I articulated why it mattered. "When you suppress your power, you aren't making yourself physically helpless—you are conserving your fuel, masking your presence, and hiding your true ceiling. An enemy who relies on visual or mechanical checks will misjudge you every single time. More importantly, holding back stops you from draining your own stamina before the real fight even starts."
"So we keep it suppressed until the moment we strike," Vegeta said, his dark eyes sharpening as the tactical advantage clicked in his mind.
"Exactly. But switching from zero to one hundred isn't instant for beginners, especially for people with your level of power. It's gonna take some time to go from 0 to 100 for you two. That is why we are learning this now so you two can get used to this ability first. Then slowly get better at it."
Nappa scratched his bald head, a heavy frown creasing his brow. "Wait, if suppressing our energy makes us weaker while it's down, isn't that dangerous if someone catches us off guard?"
"That's where Ki Sensing comes in," I replied. "Suppression doesn't mean you're defenseless—it means you're conserving your fuel. You aren't wasting stamina by letting your aura leak continuously into the atmosphere like an open valve. When you hold your energy tightly inside your body, you maintain your reserves for when you actually need to strike."
Vegeta nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on his own palms as he experimented with drawing his internal energy inward. Because of what happened to Raditz—and what they had witnessed firsthand during our previous encounter before their scouters were destroyed—both he and Nappa already understood the tactical reality of hidden power. They had heard how easily an opponent could miscalculate a target when energy signatures were suppressed. Or how acting rashly got one killed, like Raditz. That painful lesson made them far more receptive now.
For the next few hours, I guided them through the fundamentals of Ki Suppression. Nappa struggled initially, his brute-force mindset making it difficult to do anything softly, but as he learned his jagged, leaking signature finally began to pull back into his core. Vegeta, possessing far sharper instincts, picked up the mechanics quickler than his companion, smoothed out his aura until his presence faded down to a mere whisper of its former self.
I could tell the man had pride in how quickly he learned that.
"Not bad," I said, standing up and dusting off my tunic. "You've both managed the basics of sensing, suppressing, and raising your baseline output. Next is something a bit more powerful: KI Concentration. Though that requires field testing, I will explain it now. By focusing one's energy into small areas or singular points of their Ki Blasts, one can increase the power of that blast dramatically without increasing the ki in the body."
I demonstrated what the difference was like to make it clear.
I raised my palm beside me, aiming it sideways before a small, singular unconcentrated bolt of energy flew out at a tree. Not vapourising it with my current power level being 5 at most, instead it faded away as it hit the tree. Only lightly singing it.
Then the second came to life, as I focused, pulling Ki into a tighter, more focused orb. Concentrated, the ball fired hitting the tree, and carving through the wood with ease.
"Same amount of energy, higher yield of power."
The two Saiyans stared at the shattered remains of the pine trunk where my concentrated blast had cleanly punched through. The hole was smooth, cauterized, and barely wider than a coin, yet the sheer depth of the penetration through solid wood made the point crystal clear.
"Same amount of energy, higher yield of power," I repeated, letting my hand fall back to my side. "When you fire a standard energy blast, most of your Ki disperses into the air as heat and light before it even hits the target. Concentration condenses that energy, removing the waste. It's the difference between swinging a blunt iron club and driving a needle straight through armor."
Vegeta's dark eyes lingered on the tree before flicking back to me, his jaw set in a tight line. "So you're saying our methods have been a complete waste of energy."
"Your methods relied on brute output," I said plainly. "You had high baselines, so you never needed to refine how you used it. But when you fight someone who doesn't waste a single drop of their energy, brute output alone gets you killed."
I stepped back toward the center of the grassy clearing, folding my arms. "What you two just practiced—sensing, suppressing, and concentrating—is basic Ki Control. But what I do goes a step beyond that. You see, among my family, I'm the one who has the best Ki Control, and that's always been the case. Outside of being the first to alter my Ki's shape like this."
I formed 2 disks of silver energy connected by a thin string-like energy that binds them together with a slip-knot. The Kikō Yōyō, my first original technique.
"I am also the only one to possess an upgraded form of Ki Control. I had only recently noticed this fact a few weeks before you came, but about 207 days ago, I eliminated the difference between my Ki and my Body fully. Let's call it Ki Harmonization."
Nappa raised an eyebrow, crossing his massive arms over his chest. "Harmonization?"
"Most fighters treat Ki like a tank of fuel inside their body," I explained, keeping my voice calm and steady. "They draw it out, shape it into an attack, and blast it away. That process creates internal friction. Every time you throw a heavy strike or charge a wave, your body loses a fraction of that energy to heat, muscle strain, and ragged breathing. It's inefficient."
I tapped my chest over my heart. "Ki Harmonization eliminates that waste. I don't draw Ki out of my body; I integrate it directly into my nervous system, my muscles, and my heartbeat. My energy moves in perfect sync with my breath and my physical movement. There is no boundary between my body and my Ki. That's why I don't tire easily, and that's why my movements don't leak energy until the exact microsecond of impact."
Vegeta listened intently, his brow furrowed as he processed the concept. Having already felt the terrifying gap between our fighting styles during our last encounter, the logic was impossible for him to deny. He knew firsthand that relying on raw numbers without refined control had left them completely vulnerable.
"Now," I said, my tone shifting as I looked at both of them. "You've done well enough with the basics today. So it's time to address the elephant in the room—or rather, the giant ape."
Nappa grunted, his hand reflexively reaching for the small of his back where his tail used to be before it was severed. "The Ōzaru... I can't even transform anymore without a tail."
"And you shouldn't want to," I said sharply. "The Ōzaru transformation is a massive structural flaw."
Vegeta snapped his head toward me, a flash of irritation in his eyes. "A flaw? The Blutz waves multiply a Saiyan's raw power ten-fold! It has conquered hundreds of worlds!"
"And it turns you into a giant, lumbering target," I countered without missing a beat. "You lose speed, your center of gravity becomes ridiculously high, you lose subtle control over your energy, and you rely on an artificial moon or a full moon to even use it. Worse, your tail becomes a massive, obvious weak point that anyone with half a brain can cut off to instantly shut you down. It's a clumsy, outdated crutch."
"It's our bloodline's greatest strength!" Nappa barked, though there was a tremor of uncertainty in his voice now that he was permanently locked out of it.
"It's a fraction of what your bloodline can actually do," I replied softly. "Now… I've only just recently learned I can do this, yesterday. But I know what it is."
I let out a roar, powering up to my max and beginning to reach deep inside me. I recalled the moment that shattered my naivete about keeping to canon, I remembered the moment my family was in danger due to some green gremlin. I recalled the day before, where my mother was heavily injured, and how injured I had been.
And with that last straw, the primal power surged once more exploding out in a violent, angry burst of emerald energy that caved the stone around me. I felt my hair rise like flames as I then regained control over my emotions, but the power never left. The sheer power around me must have surprised them.
I looked at the two Saiyan Warriors, and gave a cocky, but entirely earned smirk.
"This is Ikari. The power of the useless Ape in Base. None of the lumbering movements; the entire 10 times increase."
I held the state effortlessly, keeping my breathing even while the green aura flared like a contained storm around my frame.
Vegeta stood frozen, his jaw locked so tight his teeth ground together. With his newly awakened Ki sensing, he wasn't just seeing the transformation—he was feeling the suffocating, dense wall of raw kinetic force crashing against his senses. The baseline energy radiating off my small body was astronomical, far surpassing the clumsy, leaking output of a transformed Great Ape.
"Ten-fold..." Vegeta whispered, his dark eyes wide as a wave of bitter frustration washed over his face. "Without a tail... without losing an ounce of speed or agility..."
Nappa stared at me, his eyes practically bulging out of his head. He took a staggering step forward, looking down at his own calloused hands, then back at my glowing green aura. For a man who had felt completely crippled after losing his tail, the sight in front of him wasn't just impressive—it was a revelation.
"The Ape's power..." Nappa gasped, his raspy voice trembling with a mix of awe and desperation. "I can get it back? Even without a tail?"
"You can get far more than just getting it back, Nappa," I said smoothly. "You get the full power of the Ōzaru, compressed into a frame that moves faster than the eye can trace, with zero weak points to sever."
Vegeta gritted his teeth, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. The realization was a bitter pill to swallow. His entire life, he had believed the Great Ape was the pinnacle of Saiyan military dominance—a brutal, undeniable force of nature. But sitting right here on a backwater rock, a five-year-old half-breed had just rendered their race's proudest genetic weapon entirely obsolete.
"How?" Vegeta demanded, his voice dropping into a low, harsh growl. "How do you tap into the primal line without the Blutz waves triggering the physical mutation?"
"Rage, and focusing on the primal power within. I assume it's possible to bring it out under the right conditions so let's get to it."
And with that, I rushed them. The Ikari training arc began with a proper demonstration and a beating at the same time. After all, getting used to their new abilities was useful, and Ki Sensing can be used in ways beyond what I told them.
This was going to be so much fun.
—Three Days later—
Three days of non-stop drills had transformed the quiet clearing in the Paozu basin into a cratered wasteland.
Nappa was currently face-down in the mud, his massive chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. His upper tunic was shredded, and dark bruises were already forming across his shoulders where I had repeatedly swept his balance out from under him. Vegeta wasn't in much better shape. He stood a few paces away, his hands resting on his knees as sweat dripped off his chin, his dark eyes glaring holes into the dirt.
They had made undeniable progress with their Ki control. Both of them could now suppress their energy signatures down to a faint spark, raise them instantly on impact, and sense the life forces of the wild animals roaming the surrounding mountains. But when it came to digging deep into their bloodlines to unlock the primal force of the Ikari state, they kept hitting a hard wall.
Vegeta straightened up, wiping his forehead with the back of his bloodied forearm. His jaw was set in a tight, bitter line.
"This environment is useless," Vegeta spat, his voice laced with venom as he glared at the peaceful blue sky above Mount Paozu. "The air is too thin, the climate is mild, and the gravity on this backwater rock is a complete joke! Training under one standard gravity unit is like trying to build muscle by swinging a feather. It's a waste of my time!"
Nappa groaned, rolling over onto his back and staring up at the clouds. "The Prince is right, kid... Back on Planet Vegeta, the gravity was ten times what this dirtball has. Our muscles were forged under constant pressure from the day we were born. Trying to force out that kind of raw, primal power when our bodies are floating around in this featherlight atmosphere feels like trying to spark a fire underwater."
I stood across from them, my arms crossed over my chest, watching the two Saiyans complain. They weren't entirely wrong. Gravity was a massive factor in Saiyan physiology. The heavier the environmental strain, the harder the body had to fight just to circulate blood and maintain posture, which naturally forced their internal energy to adapt.
"So you're saying you can't handle real progress unless the planet itself is trying to crush you?" I asked, keeping my voice flat.
Vegeta's eyes flashed with anger. "Don't twist my words, brat! I am saying that without proper physical resistance, refining our baseline output takes ten times longer than it should! If we had access to high-gravity environments, our bodies would adapt exponentially faster!"
I knew this would happen sooner or later, and I had planned for this exact scenario. After all, I just happened to know Bulma. A person who was the daughter of a man who made miniaturisation technology for the purpose of transporting items, and the person who made the first Gravity Room in the original. And Bulma was the person to invent time travel.
Alongside solving most training issues, setting up a connection between Vegeta and Bulma early was crucial for my plans to turn Vegeta good early, Nappa would follow suit soon after. If Trunks is born early, that is fine.
"Get up," I said, turning on my heel. "Both of you."
Nappa pushed himself off the ground with a heavy grunt, dusting off his dirt-caked pants. "Where are we going? Back to your house?"
"No," I replied, floating a few inches off the grass before aligning my trajectory toward the west. "Nappa, you stay here and keep working on your Ki suppression. Try to hold your energy at a baseline of five without letting it flicker for more than ten minutes. If you drop it, start over."
Nappa's face fell. "Ten minutes? Kid, that's torturous—"
"Vegeta, you're coming with me," I interrupted, ignoring Nappa entirely. "I know someone who might be able to fix your gravity problem."
Vegeta raised an eyebrow, his dark eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Fix it? On a planet like this? Gravitational Distortion devices are only theoretical, they don't exist, kid, don't toy with me."
"Yeah, they don't right now, but the person or rather, father-daughter I'm thinking of are super geniuses who can make almost anything in a few weeks. So stop talking and keep up," I said, bursting into a smooth forward glide toward the western horizon.
Vegeta gritted his teeth, launched himself off the ground with a loud sonic pop, and fell into step slightly behind me.
The flight from the quiet, emerald peaks of Mount Paozu to the sprawling, metallic metropolis of West City took less than twenty minutes.
Flying beside Vegeta was an interesting study in body language. Even with his tail gone and his battle armor scuffed, the Prince maintained an aggressive, rigid posture in the air. His dark eyes constantly scanned the horizon, tracking the passing clouds and the shifting landscape below with the paranoid vigilance of a soldier who had spent his entire life in hostile warzones.
When the dense pine forests gave way to the towering glass skyscrapers and winding sky-high highways of West City, Vegeta's brow furrowed in genuine confusion.
"What is this place?" he grunted over the rush of the wind, his voice laced with faint disgust. "A planetary capital? Where are the defensive battlements? Where are the anti-orbital defense grids? This city is completely open to atmospheric bombardment. It's built like a civilian target."
"Earth doesn't spend its budget on planetary conquerors, Vegeta," I said, adjusting my trajectory downward as the massive, iconic yellow dome of Capsule Corporation came into view. "People here build things to make life comfortable, not to wipe out neighboring solar systems. Besides, they don't know about the existence of Aliens. Only very few know the fighters at Kame Island."
Vegeta snorted, crossing his arms as we descended toward the sprawling complex. "Ignorance is a luxury of the weak. The moment a real threat enters their sky, all these fragile towers will turn to ash."
"Which is why you're going to help make sure that doesn't happen," I replied, landing softly on the manicured lawn right outside the main residential dome of Capsule Corporation.
Vegeta touched down a second later, his boots tearing two neat furrows into the pristine green turf. He immediately took a defensive stance, his dark eyes darting across the high-tech architecture. The giant, circular structures and hovering automated maintenance drones were clearly advanced, but to a Saiyan raised on Frieza's military technology, it looked more like a wealthy civilian playground than a stronghold.
"This is it?" Vegeta muttered, looking around with open disdain. "A giant yellow ball? You brought me across the continent to look at civilian architecture?"
"The people inside this 'yellow ball' hold the patents for high-density spatial compression. If anyone on this rock can build what you need, it's them." I explain, while stepping towards the automated sliding glass doors.
Before I could reach the door, it hissed open.
Bulma stepped out onto the porch, holding a tablet in one hand and a half-empty mug of coffee in the other. Her blue hair was tied back in a messy ponytail, and she wore a lab coat thrown hastily over a tank top and shorts.
When her eyes landed on me, her expression instantly brightened.
"Yuzu!" she gasped, setting her coffee down on an outdoor table and crouching down to wrap me in a quick, fierce hug. "Oh, thank goodness! I was going to call your mom today to see how you were doing after... well, after Wheelo. Are you really okay? No broken bones?"
"I'm completely fine, Bulma," I said, stepping back with a small, reassuring smile. "A Senzu bean fixed everything right up. Besides, that giant brain will no longer be a threat."
Bulma's eyes shifted from me to the man standing a few paces back on her pristine lawn.
Her relaxed expression instantly vanished. Her jaw set, and her blue eyes narrowed into sharp slits as she recognized the spiky-haired Saiyan in the blue body suit. Even without his battle armor, Vegeta's posture practically screamed "intergalactic menace."
"Wait a minute," Bulma said, pointing an accusing finger directly at him. "Is that... the other alien? The one who landed near West City four days ago and crashed his pod straight through a full skyscraper?"
Vegeta crossed his arms, his dark brows drawing together in immediate irritation. He sneered, looking down his nose at her. "It was a civilian structure placed directly in my landing trajectory, woman. You should be grateful I didn't vaporize the entire sector on impact."
Bulma didn't flinch. She didn't retreat behind the glass doors, and she certainly didn't show an ounce of the fear most people would display when standing five feet away from a man who could level a mountain range with a flick of his wrist. Instead, she let out a loud, exasperated sigh and placed both hands on her hips, glaring at him like a disgruntled schoolteacher dealing with a unruly child.
"Grateful?!" Bulma barked, her voice echoing across the courtyard. "Do you have any idea how much paperwork we had to do because of your stupid pod? We owned that building for the East City branch of Capsule Corp, but no you had to crash right through it. The news has been talking about Aliens for four days straight! Do you have any idea how hard it is to cover this mess up?! Well now the entire planet knows Aliens exist, dimwit! And put some real clothes on! Walking around in some space armour on my lawn—have you no decency?!"
Vegeta blinked, completely caught off guard. His mouth opened slightly, his dark eyes wide as his brain struggled to process the interaction. A civilian—a frail, unpowered human woman with zero combat capabilities—was shouting at the Prince of all Saiyans. No fear. No begging. Just pure, unadulterated annoyance.
He looked over at me, his jaw working silently, as if silently asking if this woman had completely lost her mind.
I just offered a small, amused shrug. "Told you. She's a genius. She doesn't really do the whole 'bowing in terror' thing."
"She's a lunatic," Vegeta muttered under his breath, though his voice lacked its usual murderous edge, replaced instead by sheer, baffled disorientation.
"Anyway!" Bulma turned her back on Vegeta, completely dismissing him as she looked down at me, her tone instantly softening. "Why did you bring him here, Yuzu? I thought your mom and Piccolo were keeping those two on a leash back at Mount Paozu."
"We're training," I explained calmly. "Or rather, I'm teaching them how to actually use their energy without relying on scouters. But we've hit a structural wall. Vegeta here is complaining that Earth's environment is too soft. He says training under standard gravity is slowing down his progress."
Bulma raised an eyebrow, glancing back at Vegeta with a critical eye. "Oh? The big, scary alien conqueror finds our planet too gentle? Poor baby."
Vegeta's face flushed red with a sudden, violent surge of embarrassment and rage. "Watch your tongue, female! The gravity on Planet Vegeta was ten times what this backwater rock produces! Forcing physical adaptation under one unit of environmental pressure is mathematically inefficient! Without simulated gravimetric density, our muscle fibers don't break down fast enough to trigger rapid recovery!"
Bulma crossed her arms, a smirking, dangerous glint entering her blue eyes. "Oh, so you can speak in full sentences when you're whining about your workout routine."
Vegeta growled, a low, dangerous rumble in his chest. "I do not whine! I am stating a physical fact! Gravitational distortion on a planetary scale requires massive tech, something a primitive civilization like yours couldn't possibly—"
"Shut up for a second," Bulma interrupted, tapping her chin with her stylus as she processed his words. "Gravimetric density... unnatural gravitational pull generated within a localized field... It's not impossible. It's just a matter of mass displacement and artificial kinetic containment."
Vegeta froze, his sneer faltering. "What?"
"My dad was actually working on a theoretical blueprint for heavy-mass containment fields a few years ago to help with high-density materials testing," Bulma said, her eyes lighting up as the engineering puzzle took over her train of thought. "If we modify a heavy-duty atmospheric regulator, reinforce the wall plating with high-tensile alloy, and hook it up to an amplified power core, we could theoretically generate localized gravitational force."
Vegeta stared at her, his cynicism cracking. "You... you can actually construct a device that multiplies natural gravity?"
"Of course I can," Bulma said, puffing out her chest with absolute pride. "I'm a Briefs! Generating ten times Earth's gravity in a closed room is child's play. Heck, if I reinforce the core enough, I could probably push it to fifty... maybe even a hundred times normal gravity."
Vegeta's breath caught in his throat. His eyes dilated slightly as the mathematical reality of her words sank in. A hundred times Earth's gravity. That would be ten times the pressure of his home planet. A training environment like that would force his body to adapt at a terrifying pace. His baseline power would skyrocket beyond anything he had ever dreamed of under Frieza's reign.
"A hundred times..." Vegeta murmured, his voice dropping into a rare, genuine whisper of awe. He looked at Bulma now, the disdain in his eyes completely replaced by a sharp, calculating respect. "You... you can build a chamber like that?"
"If I want to," Bulma said smoothly, crossing her arms and looking him up and down. "But why should I? You showed up on my planet, crashed through a building, and now you're standing in my yard demanding high-tech equipment. What's in it for me?"
Vegeta gritted his teeth, his pride rearing its head again. "I am the Prince of all Saiyans! I don't make deals with—"
"Vegeta," I said softly, stepping between them and giving him a pointed look. "Do you want the gravity room or not?"
Vegeta snapped his mouth shut. He glared at me, then at Bulma, before letting out a long, frustrated hiss through his teeth. "Fine! What do you want, woman?"
"First of all, stop calling me 'woman.' My name is Bulma," she said, tapping her chest with her stylus. "Second, you're going to behave yourself while you're on Earth. No blowing up cities, no scaring civilians, and no destroying my property. Third, when the room is finished, you're going to let me collect diagnostic data on your physical readings while you train inside it. I need real-time metrics on how your body reacts to the pressure."
Vegeta blinked. "You... you just want data?"
"I'm a scientist," Bulma replied with a smug smirk. "Data is better than money. Plus, if I'm building the most advanced physical conditioning unit in history, I want to make sure it actually works."
Vegeta stared at her for a long, quiet moment. In his world—the world of Frieza's empire—technology was built by subjugated scientists under threat of execution, used solely for warfare, and hoarded by those with the most raw strength. Yet here was a human woman, casually offering to forge a machine capable of granting him godlike power, simply because she was curious about the numbers.
"Deal," Vegeta grunted, turning his head away to hide the strange, uncomfortable sensation of being completely outmaneuvered by a civilian.
"Great!" Bulma clapped her hands together, turning toward the residential dome. "Come on inside, then. Dad is in the greenhouse, but I can start drafting the structural blueprints in my lab right now. It'll probably take a couple of weeks to order the reinforced titanium plating and build the core from scratch."
As Bulma turned and walked up the steps, I fell into step beside Vegeta.
He didn't say anything for a long moment, his eyes fixed on the back of Bulma's lab coat as we entered the grand, temperature-controlled foyer of Capsule Corporation. The sheer luxury of the place—the indoor gardens, the automated serving bots, the gleaming marble floors—was light-years removed from the cold, sterile steel of Frieza's battle cruisers.
"She's strange," Vegeta muttered quietly under his breath, so low I almost didn't catch it. "She has no fear. No survival instinct."
"She's smart, she realises that if you truly wanted her dead, she'd have not had a chance to get a word in. Plus you were with me, so there was no reason to be fearful and panic. That isn't a lack of a survival instinct, it's knowing you aren't in danger despite being in front of a dangerous individual."
Vegeta didn't answer, but I could tell that the jagged, defensive edge of his was smoothing out, replaced by a deep, contemplative stillness.
I couldn't help but let out a tiny, inward chuckle as we followed Bulma deeper into the central residential dome. Watching the proud, ruthless Prince of all Saiyans get completely derailed by a blue-haired woman in a lab coat was infinitely more entertaining than beating him into the dirt for the hundredth time.
The foyer opened up into a massive, glass-roofed atrium filled with exotic, tropical plants, humming maintenance drones, and the peaceful scent of damp soil. It was a stark contrast to the scorched clearing of Mount Paozu, let alone the cold, blood-stained steel of Frieza's galactic outposts.
"Dad! Are you in the workshop?" Bulma called out, her voice echoing off the high glass ceilings. "I need to borrow the spatial displacement schematics! And we're going to need to order about fifty tons of reinforced titanium alloy!"
From behind a dense cluster of artificial palm trees, Dr. Briefs emerged, holding a tiny, hovering wrench in one hand and a black cat perched lazily on his shoulder. He blinked through his round glasses, puffing calmly on a lit cigarette.
"Oh, hello, Bulma," Dr. Briefs said, his tone utterly unbothered by his daughter shouting about fifty tons of military-grade metal. "Are we building another rocket? Or is this for that gravity experiment we talked about last summer?"
"The gravity experiment!" Bulma said, setting her coffee down on a sleek, metallic counter and immediately tapping away at a floating holographic interface. "We're building a full-scale conditioning chamber. High-density kinetic dampeners, amplified power core, and variable gravimetric controls up to a hundred times Earth's baseline!"
Dr. Briefs scratched his mustache, looking over his glasses at Vegeta, who was currently standing in the center of the pristine room looking like a caged predator trying to process an alien ecosystem.
"My word," the doctor hummed, nodding pleasantly at the spiky-haired Saiyan. "A hundred times? You must have extraordinarily dense bone structure, young man. Most humans would turn into a rather unpleasant paste at those numbers."
Vegeta's jaw tightened, but before he could bark out a reply about his superior royal lineage, Bulma slapped a tablet into his chest.
"Here," she commanded smoothly. "Fill out the physical baseline metrics. Height, weight, mass distribution, and your peak power output. I need exact figures so I don't accidentally calibrate the gravimetric field to turn your internal organs inside out."
Vegeta caught the tablet, staring down at the glowing screen as if she had handed him an unexploded thermal detonator. "I don't use arbitrary human measurements, woman."
"It has a automatic unit converter, smart guy," Bulma shot back, rolling her eyes as she pulled a pair of safety goggles over her forehead. "Just input your baseline specs. If you don't know them, I'll have to use the diagnostic scanner I reversed-engineered from that scouter you guys brought."
Mentioning the scouter made Vegeta flinch slightly. His dark eyes flicked toward me, remembering the absolute humiliation of relying on a tiny glass lens that could be fooled, suppressed, or outright shattered.
"I don't need technology to measure my strength," Vegeta growled low in his throat, though he begrudgingly tapped his broad thumb against the digital interface, inputting his data with a rough, aggressive rhythm.
I leaned against a sleek alloy pillar, watching the numbers flick across the secondary display mounted on the wall.
When Vegeta had landed four days ago, his raw baseline sat comfortably at 16,000. But after all the heavy injuries he sustained during our initial clash, the recovery via Senzu beans and the training in the last three days… His raw baseline readout now flickered at a terrifying 32,000.
It was a staggering leap. In the original timeline, Vegeta had needed a brutal, life-or-death battle on Earth and a near-fatal beating on Namek to reach those kinds of numbers. Here, between the controlled beatings, the Senzu recovery, and the beginning of actual Ki control, he was scaling at a frightening rate.
I looked down at my own small, calloused hands, feeling the dense, icy calm flowing through my circulatory system. Fighting Dr. Wheelo's colossal mechanical frame, watching Mom get hurled through reinforced glass, and tapping directly into the primal, rage-fueled reservoir of the Ikari state had broken my own physical ceiling wide open.
Before the mountain collapsed, my baseline sat at 16,800. After the Senzu bean healed my crushed ribs and fractured arm back at the house, my body had adapted. Then training after the fact.
My current, un-suppressed baseline sat at a clean 33,200.
And yet… it still wasn't even close to a suppressed, transformation of Frieza's. His weakest state was 530,000. My Ikari is 332,000 right now.
"Well, well," Bulma murmured, leaning over the console as Vegeta handed the tablet back. Her eyes widened slightly as she read the output metrics. "Thirty-two thousand energy units... No wonder you smashed straight through our East City office building like a cannonball. You really could end this planet without a thought, huh?"
"I am an elite Saiyan warrior," Vegeta correctioned sharply, crossing his arms and puffing his chest out slightly. "Not a weapon."
"Right, right, an elite warrior who needs a five-year-old girl to keep him from getting lost in West City," Bulma teased, completely ignoring his attempt at intimidation. She tucked a stray strand of blue hair behind her ear and tapped a command on the central desk. "The blueprint layout is locked. The high-tensile titanium plates will take about ten days to be forged and delivered from our orbital foundry. I'll need another week to assemble the gravimetric core and calibrate the safety overrides."
"Two weeks?" Vegeta gritted his teeth, his dark brows drawing down in deep frustration. "That is far too long! Every day I waste floating around in this featherlight air is a day my edge dulls!"
"If I rush it, the localized gravity field will tear a hole in my backyard and collapse your spine into a pancake," Bulma said flatly, pointing her stylus at his nose. "So you will wait two weeks, stay at Yuzu's house, practice whatever weird energy suppression magic she's teaching you, and stop complaining. Understood?"
Vegeta opened his mouth, a violent, royal tirade clearly brewing at the back of his throat. He looked at Bulma, whose blue eyes held zero ground, then looked over at me.
I just gave him a tiny, expectant raise of my eyebrow.
The Prince of all Saiyans let out a long, heavy, defeated breath through his nose, his shoulders slumping just an inch. "Fine."
"Good!" Bulma cheered, her sunny demeanor instantly returning as she grabbed her coffee mug. "Now get off my lawn. I have work to do."
As we walked back out into the bright afternoon sunlight of West City, the heavy sliding glass doors hissing shut behind us, Vegeta stood on the edge of the manicured lawn for a long moment. He looked back at the massive yellow dome, then down at his broad, calloused hands.
"She's completely insane," Vegeta muttered, launching himself into the air with a soft, controlled burst of Ki that barely disturbed the grass beneath his boots. "The entire population of this planet is completely out of their minds."
I floated up beside him, falling into a smooth, steady glide back toward the green peaks of Mount Paozu.
"They're not insane, Vegeta," I said, a faint, genuine smile touching my lips as the wind rushed past us. "They just don't live in a universe where strength is the only thing that gives a person the right to breathe. You'll get used to it."
Vegeta didn't answer, but as we crossed the city limits and headed back toward the mountains, he kept his energy tightly suppressed—a quiet, perfectly controlled spark of 5 units, matching my speed without leaking a single drop of wasted power into the sky.
*A/N: Sorry to interrupt but the reason this took so long is because I was having issue and LONG DEBATES with ChatGPT over on if this was a good idea or not, because the way I wrote that chapter, with the help of AI, it made it seem like she got her own form of Ki Control… pair that with me being in college and needing to do stuff… yeah. Then I had to write down everything Ki Harmonisation can do. So yeah. Oh and I'm making a Persona 5 Fanfiction as my Welsh Bacc Individual Project, I may be insane for that considering who the first boss is, but oh well. By the way, this chapter was rushed.*