"I... your... your stepmother?"
"Exactly. Though, naturally, there is no biological connection between us. It is simply a title I have chosen for you," the creature replied.
Lisette remained in a low crouch, her hands glowing with white light as she faced the intruder.
In the annals of Dragon Ball history, Cell stood as one of the three great titans of evil, alongside Frieza and Buu. In truth, compared to the other two, he wasn't entirely beyond redemption—at least he didn't go on mindless slaughter sprees for the sake of "fun" like the original Fat Buu.
But that was only by comparison. By any normal metric, Cell was a villain. He had murdered thousands to reach his Perfect Form. To call him a "good person" would be a lie.
And yet, here he was, standing on her sanctuary, radiating a friendly, almost protective aura.
Should I believe him? Lisette wondered. Should I doubt him? Or should I just play along to avoid a fight I can't win?
Because deep down, she knew: she couldn't beat him. He wasn't even trying, yet the scale of his power was in a different dimension. Even at a casual rest, he was easily a hundred times stronger than King Cold.
"You likely know my identity already," Cell said, his voice calm and melodic. "However, for the sake of clarity and to bridge the gap between your knowledge and my reality, I would like to explain my presence. May I have a moment of your time?"
"...Fine," Lisette whispered.
"You have my thanks."
Cell smiled warmly at her. There was no trace of malice in his gaze; instead, it held a sentiment bordering on devotion. It only added to Lisette's confusion.
How? How could one of the series' greatest villains become this... polite? Is it an act? No, he wouldn't need an act. He's strong enough to crush us all right now.
"My name is Cell. I am an Android from a parallel world—a timeline slightly offset from the one belonging to the Trunks currently sleeping in your infirmary. I traveled here via a time machine from twenty years in your future."
"An Android!?" Krillin barked, jumping into a fighting stance.
Cell didn't even glance at him. Krillin's defiance was a non-factor to a being of his magnitude. He simply continued his explanation.
"My 'Designer' was Dr. Gero. However, the one who inherited the blueprints and brought me to completion—my 'Creator'—was Bulma. In that sense, she is also my parent."
"What!?" Lisette and Krillin shouted in unison.
"Long ago, Dr. Gero conceptualized the ultimate lifeform, a being composed of the cells of the universe's greatest warriors. However, he abandoned the project due to the immense time required for development, leaving me to rot in his basement. I do not consider Gero my father. While I respect the intellect required to conceive of my perfection, he was a small-minded man. Nothing more."
Lisette felt two conflicting emotions. One was a desperate hope: if Bulma had made him, then maybe this monster really was an ally. The other was skepticism: Bulma was a mechanical engineer, not a geneticist. Completing Cell should have been impossible for her.
But then again, Lisette thought, she is a once-in-a-century genius. Maybe...
"It all began twenty years ago," Cell said, his eyes narrowing as he looked toward the horizon. "In a world very similar to this one... yet tragically different."
***
It was dark... a cold, silent place.
I was born in a laboratory abandoned by its designer, where time was the only thing that moved. I floated in a tank of nutrient fluid, given a single directive: Kill Son Goku. But the Son Goku of that world was already dead. I had lost my reason for being before I was even born.
Still, the computer continued to feed me cells. I lived in a half-dreaming state, clinging to the hope that one day I would be complete.
Then, she appeared.
The first visitor to enter that tomb in decades was a beautiful young woman.
It was you, Lisette. My Stepmother.
Your goal was clear: you were taking preventative measures to ensure no more enemies would plague an Earth already drowning in blood. You had come to eliminate the next generation of Androids. You had come to kill me.
How you knew I existed remains a mystery, even to me. You are a woman of many secrets. Had you chosen to destroy me then, my story would have ended in that tank. And I am certain there are timelines where you did exactly that.
But you didn't kill me. You couldn't.
Perhaps the ki you sensed within me—the traces of Son Goku and Krillin—stayed your hand. Having just lost your friends, you couldn't bring yourself to erase the only thing that still carried their essence.
Conflicted, you took the blueprints to Bulma. You couldn't kill me, but you couldn't leave me as Gero intended. Together, you decided to rewrite my destiny.
Bulma couldn't manipulate my biology directly, but she could reprogram the computer overseeing my growth. She stripped away the directive to kill Goku. Then, she performed a 'cleansing.' She removed the genetic data of the Frost Demons, of Vegeta, of Turles—all those who harbored malice.
(A wise choice, given how wretched Vegeta was back then.)
But this left me genetically hollow. I was unstable, unable to even maintain my basic form, let alone reach completion.
That was when you stepped in.
You gave me your own blood. You allowed the computer to use your DNA as my foundation, re-engineering me into a more 'Perfect' being. Bulma even integrated the research of Dr. Wheelo to further refine my consciousness.
And most miraculously, your 'Invariable' cells granted me a form that would never need to change. I was born in my Perfect Form. I had no need to absorb Androids 17 or 18. The flaw in my design was healed by your essence.
Gero may have designed the frame, and Bulma may have built the machine, but you were the one who gave me life. Your cells are my cells. To me, you are my mother.
I spent the next decade being raised in your sanctuary. Not this Lookout—it had been destroyed—but the holy cathedral where you lived before becoming a God. You spoke to me every day. You nurtured my mind.
Through the computer, you taught me one absolute law: 'Do not launch meaningless attacks against Earth or its people.'But you never tried to use me as a weapon. You never ordered me to hunt your enemies. You simply wanted me to be free.
So, I chose my own purpose.
If I was born as a 'Perfect' being, then I would use that perfection to protect my strong, yet fragile Stepmother. No one gave me this mission. I chose it for myself.
But I was too late.
By the time my incubation ended, the war was over. Every enemy I had sworn to defeat was gone. And the mother I had sworn to protect had fallen into a sleep from which she would not wake.
I despaired. I cursed the timing of my birth. What use was ultimate power if there was no one to guard and no one to fight? I erased the Bio-Broly that the foolish humans had created, but it brought me no peace.
Then, I saw Trunks preparing his time machine. I realized it was the only way to fulfill my vow. I took the machine from him by force.
(Do not worry. I didn't kill him. His mother is my creator, after all; I wouldn't do anything to break her heart. I simply knocked him out with a bit of... necessary roughness.)
"And so, I came to this era," Cell concluded. "To fulfill the purpose I failed to achieve in my own time."
***
Cell finished his story. Lisette stared at him, her mind racing. It was true that his ki felt overwhelmingly like her own. It was true that the signatures of Frieza and Vegeta were missing.
But something felt... off.
Even if his story was true, this Lisette wasn't his Lisette. They were the same person, but different individuals. Protecting her now wouldn't save the woman who raised him. It was just a form of self-satisfaction. Was he really okay with that?
"So... you have no hostile intent?" Lisette asked.
"None. I am your ally."
"And you expect me to just believe that?"
"You don't have to," Cell declared, a sharp, confident glint in his eyes. "I will protect you and this planet for my own sake. I will eliminate your enemies regardless of your permission."
He leveled his gaze at her. "For starters... I shall dispose of Androids 17 and 18 for you. In my future, they were nothing but engines of destruction. I despise them."
"Wait! No! Cell, stop!" Lisette cried. "In this world, they aren't—"
"I shall see you again soon," Cell interrupted, striking a cool pose with two fingers to his forehead. "When we next meet, I shall present their heads to you as a gift. I am truly glad to see you looking so well... Mother. I mean that from the bottom of my heart."
Without waiting for her to finish, Cell stepped off the edge of the Lookout and vanished.
Lisette stood frozen for a split second before the panic set in. I have to stop him!
She realized this version of Cell was fundamentally different from the one she knew. He was "Perfect," but he seemed to have a few screws loose. He was like an intellectual who submits a brilliant thesis but accidentally writes his name in crayon. His obsession was terrifying.
(Whose DNA gave him this level of tunnel-vision!?)
She frantically searched for 17 and 18. She found them in a stolen truck on a mountain road. She prepared to teleport—she could intercept him there.
But before she could move, her "Far-Sight" caught the truck being swallowed by a sub-space rift.
She had forgotten. Cell was based on her.
He could use her Gates. He could use her telekinesis. He had likely warped them to a remote location to "clean up" without damaging the Earth.
(This is bad... if he kills them, Krillin will never get married!)
"Lisette!" Turles called out from behind. "If he's going to kill the Androids for us, what's the problem?"
Lisette didn't have time to explain. She had to find them. Fast. She couldn't let her "stepson" murder her potential allies.
(I never thought I'd have to figure out how to protect my enemies from my 'allies.')
She closed her eyes, focusing every ounce of her divine sensory power to track the specific frequency of Cell's clear, echoing ki.
***
Status Report
Cell has joined the fray as a Chaotic Neutral Ally.
He will actively hunt down anyone he perceives as a threat to Lisette.
Note: He has zero meta-knowledge of the "Main Timeline." He views 17 and 18 as the monsters they were in his own future.
***
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