The four genin stood watching—confused, anxious, and a little horrified—as Trunks prepared what he called their new training plan for the day.
Sakura almost asked what was going on, but in a rare moment of wisdom decided it was safer—for her and everyone else—to stay silent and wait for the idiotic Saiyan to start giving orders.
"Perfect," Trunks muttered to himself after checking that the height of the bar was just right.
He had mounted a thick metal bar across the training chamber, locking it into the notches built into the walls of the ship. It wasn't random—each slot let him adjust the height as needed.
Even without a word of explanation, everyone assumed the sadist was about to make them hang upside down for who-knows-how-many crunches… or worse, some insane Saiyan-style bar routine.
"You'll hang from the bar by your legs and do a set of sit-ups. I recommend—"
"Oh, really? You don't say!" Ino cut in with exaggerated sarcasm, eyes wide and tone dripping with mockery. Her smug delivery made Trunks narrow his gaze dangerously.
"Interrupt me again…" He stopped mid-sentence, smirking evily "...and you'll earn two extra buckets."
"Two extra buckets?" Sakura raised a pink brow, noticing the four water buckets lined neatly beneath the bar, each spaced about a meter and a half apart. Before she could even process one question, another popped up—there were four more identical buckets hanging from the ceiling directly above them.
"As I was trying to explain," Trunks continued dryly, "don't rest too much between sit-ups. You're not used to it—blood will rush straight to your heads." A faint, cruel smirk touched his lips. "And believe me, you don't want that. The gravity, plus the heat in here, could make you pass out. And the thud you'll make when you hit the floor won't be pretty."
It sounded even worse than it looked. Sakura was pale, glancing at her teammates for some sign of solidarity—but everyone's eyes were glued to Trunks. Ino was just as terrified, though she hid it a little better.
"How many sit-ups do we have to do?" Tenten asked cautiously, trying to sound casual despite her nerves.
"That depends on how well you do them."
"So you'll watch us and decide when we can stop?" Lee asked hopefully, misunderstanding the situation entirely.
"No," Trunks replied, deadpan. "You'll stop when the buckets are full." He reached into a small bag and tossed each of them a sponge. "The ones on the floor are full of water. The ones on the ceiling are empty. You'll hang upside down, dip your sponge into the lower bucket, then crunch up to squeeze the water into the one above. Repeat until the bottom buckets are empty and the top ones are full."
"WHAT?!" they all screamed, eyes bulging in disbelief—even Rock Lee, the human embodiment of masochistic enthusiasm, looked appalled.
"I'm feeling generous today," Trunks said, stepping over to the control panel and activating the gravity field without warning. The air instantly grew heavier, and the genin groaned as their sore muscles flared with pain. "I was planning to raise it to four times Earth's gravity today, but we'll keep it at yesterday's level. Oh—and when you finish filling the first bucket, let me know. You'll do the whole thing three times."
"THREE TIMES?!" Ino nearly exploded. Her mouth opened to protest, but her instincts screamed Don't. The psycho might actually follow through with his threat about the extra buckets. "This is insane… If I'd known this, I never would've agreed to this training…"
Tears of frustration welled up in her eyes—until she realized Trunks was walking right toward her. He stopped just inches away, his voice calm but sharp.
"Ino, what are you waiting for? The others already started."
She blinked. Wait—what? She looked around and realized her teammates were already hanging upside down like bats, doing the insane water transfer exercise. Lee was leading the pace, while Sakura struggled through each rep, clearly dying inside.
"Or do you want an extra bucket as punishment?"
"NO! I—I'm starting right now!" Ino yelped, her blue eyes wide with panic. She spun on her heel, hooked her legs over the bar, and hung down, muttering every curse she knew under her breath. She peered into her ground bucket—at least four liters of water. Wonderful.
Trunks sat cross-legged to observe, making sure no one tried to cheat.
Few Hours Later—
Ah! "This is delicious!" Lee exclaimed, polishing off his third lunch tray with unstoppable enthusiasm. Without missing a beat, he eagerly pulled out a fourth bentō from his bag. Gai's training usually left him starving, but Trunks's routines? They turned him into a bottomless pit!
Trunks, however, paid no mind to Lee's ravenous appetite. What did bother him was how much the kunoichi were eating. He could barely breathe just watching Tenten devour one meal after another, though she somehow managed to keep her manners—something a Saiyan could never boast of.
"I swear, if this makes me gain even a single kilo, I'll strangle Trunks to death."
Ino's cheeks were blazing red, her face burning with embarrassment. She had never imagined herself capable of eating this much in one sitting. Her mother had watched in disbelief that morning as Ino packed enough food for a small army, while Inoichi had frowned, silently assuming all those bentō were actually meant for that Trunks guy.
Overeating was second nature to a Saiyan—it wasn't even about training to exhaustion. It was simply… how they were built. Trunks had grown up watching it every day. At home, he'd share meals with his father, and copious consumption was the norm. The difference was, Vegeta's table manners (for a Saiyan) were leagues above Goku's, a product of his royal upbringing.
The Son household, though, was another story entirely—a daily food war zone. Every meal turned into a full-blown battle as the three Saiyans ate like wild boars. Gohan, at least, had improved since he started dating Videl.
So what had Trunks so astonished now? Simple: he had never in his life seen a woman eat like that. In fact, he'd thought it was physically impossible. Worse yet—it wasn't just one woman. Two girls were already on their fifth serving.
Yes. Two.
Meanwhile, Sakura sat slightly apart from the group, her lunch untouched. She sat beneath a lonely tree at the edge of the training field, staring uncertainly at the bentō in her lap.
"Hmph. Sakura really is an idiot," Trunks muttered under his breath. "Still clinging to that stupid diet. If she doesn't eat soon, she's gonna pass ou—"
He froze mid-sentence. His eyes widened as he realized she wasn't refusing to eat—she couldn't.
Sakura felt terrible. It was only her second day of training, and she was already on the brink of quitting. Tears of frustration nearly escaped as, for what felt like the hundredth time, the small ball of rice she tried to lift with her chopsticks fell back into the tray. Her hands trembled uncontrollably; every muscle ached. Gritting her teeth, she grabbed her right wrist with her left hand to steady herself, trying once again to guide a bit of rice to her lips—only to fail again. Her small hands shook violently, refusing to obey her.
"Here, let me help."
Her glassy green eyes snapped wide open. She hadn't even looked up yet, staring blankly at her food tray, when a familiar cheerful voice cut through the haze. She jerked her head up to see Goten, smiling as brightly as ever, sitting down beside her.
"G-Goten?! What are you doing here? You're supposed to be in the hospital!"
Her voice came out half-scolding, half-worried.
Ignoring her protest, Goten grabbed the chopsticks, scooped up a small ball of rice, and gently placed it in her mouth. Sakura nearly choked in surprise—even though he'd been surprisingly gentle.
"Wow, you must be really tired if you can't even feed yourself—you're shaking so much!"
And, as always, he somehow managed to make her feel even worse.
She was starving—her stomach screamed for food—but she'd never tasted a bite so bitter. That small mouthful slid down her throat like shame itself. Pathetic, she thought. She couldn't even eat by herself. Everyone else could handle the training just fine—even Ino.
"Sakura? What's wrong? Does it taste bad? Why are you crying?"
Her eyes widened again. She hadn't realized she was crying until two salty tears rolled down her cheeks and fell from her chin.
"N-no! It's delicious!"
Goten grinned, tasting a bit for himself—just the vegetables—and his face lit up.
"Wow, it's really good! Did you make it?"
"No… my mom did," she mumbled, staring down at her lap, voice heavy with defeat.
"Then your mom must be an amazing wife."
That stupid comment made Sakura finally look up. For Goten, "a good wife" meant "a good cook." That's what his dad had taught him. His mother, Chi-Chi, had told him something else—that he should marry a rich girl who could help their family out of poverty. Goten still didn't quite understand what that meant.
Before she could respond, he offered her another bite. Despite her embarrassment, Sakura opened her mouth automatically, chewing before she even realized what she'd done.
"Goten… I don't mean to sound rude, but… what are you doing here? Won't you get in trouble if they find out you left the hospital?"
Her words cut off with a gasp as he gently wiped the corner of her mouth with a napkin, brushing away stray grains of rice.
"Wait—don't tell me you came just for this! Do you think I'm that incompetent? You expected something like this would happen, didn't you? You're probably amazed I haven't given up already!"
Goten's expression was a confusing mix of panic, embarrassment, and pure secondhand shame at Sakura's wild outburst.
"S-Sakura, calm down! I'm here to practice fusion, not just to see you! Everyone's here—look."
He pointed toward the group in the distance, where Trunks was talking to Asuma, Shikamaru, Choji, Kurenai's team, and Gai's squad—including Neji. Everyone except Kakashi and his other two students were present.
Sakura flushed bright red again. Goten's cluelessness always found new ways to embarrass her. His innocence infuriated her—and somehow made her act even more foolishly. Maybe if she thought before she spoke, she could seem normal around him. Thankfully, he was so oblivious that he never noticed.
"There! Much better, right?"
Sakura blinked—completely spaced out. Her mind had wandered so far that, in just a few minutes, Goten had managed to feed her entire lunch without her realizing it.
"Don't look at me like that! It's the least I can do—you've been bringing me food at the hospital almost every day! Now up you go!"
Before she could react, Goten grabbed her by the arms and pulled her to her feet as if she were made of paper. He even brushed the dust off her dress—including two firm pats on her backside that nearly made her stumble.
Sakura's face went scarlet. Two veins bulged on her forehead. She clenched her fists, shut her eyes, and silently begged the heavens for patience. She forgave him—barely—because she knew he didn't mean anything perverted by it. She knew him better than that.
"Don't overdo it—I'm not helpless," she hissed through gritted teeth. The embarrassment burned through her whole body… and honestly, her butt still hurt. Damn that training—even her glutes were sore.
Asuma's voice called them over, saving Goten's life. It was time to try out the most ridiculous technique in existence.
Everyone gathered around, sitting on a massive fallen log. Neji took one end—he preferred keeping his distance. The only person he allowed to sit close was Tenten, who joined him with a smile.
"Hold it, worms! You're not starting without me, are you?"
"Oh, great… just what I needed." Trunks smacked his forehead. Anko. Perfect. "Goten, you better not mess this up. If anyone laughs, I swear—"
"Relax! It'll be fine!"
Goten's bright grin and thumbs-up didn't reassure him in the slightest.
"Okay, everyone! Want me to explain how the fusion works?"
"NO! Just do it already!"
"YES!"
Most of the group shouted in agreement—especially Anko, whose wicked grin made Trunks' stomach drop. If this humiliated him, it would make her day.
"Alright then—the fusion is a technique that lets two people merge into one being, massively increasing their power."
Sakura frowned. She didn't like Goten acting all knowledgeable—and even less that everyone was paying attention to him. She preferred when he was the airheaded boy no one took seriously. She didn't realize she might actually be jealous.
"Wouldn't it be the same if you both just fought together?" Shikamaru yawned. "Seems like a lot of work for the same result. Fighting separately sounds smarter—you could attack from different angles and use combined tactics."
"Uhhh… I didn't really get that," Goten said, rubbing the back of his head. Everyone collectively faceplanted. "But I do know fusion's way stronger! Even if we fought together, we'd still be weaker than when we fuse."
No one found that easy to believe—not after seeing the chaos those two caused fighting each other. They barely used energy attacks, and it was still terrifying. Those alien invaders who'd destroyed the Sky Country looked weak compared to them. One of them had wiped out an entire nation with a flick of her wrist, and even that was nothing next to Saiyan power.
"So… what do you look like when you fuse?" Ino asked, curiosity sparkling in her eyes. "More like you, or Trunks?"
"I think Gotenks looks a bit like both of us."
"Gotenks?" Sakura muttered. Combining their names sounded idiotic—but of course, Gai and Lee looked awed by the "brilliant" naming.
"It's hard to explain," Trunks said. "When we fuse, we're not Goten or Trunks anymore. It's like a new being is born—one with both our memories and power. But he thinks and acts on his own. It's… strange."
Both Saiyans glanced at each other uneasily. They'd never thought about it that way before. When they became Gotenks, it really was like another person entirely took over—someone reckless, unpredictable, and far too confident.
Fusion was more complex than it seemed. Luckily, it only lasted 30 minutes—or it might've been a real problem. Even the gods knew that. That's why the Potara earrings were reserved for divine beings—fusing permanently was too dangerous. One universe nearly vanished because two arrogant immortals fused that way.
"So… will he have a tail?" Lee asked, breaking the heavy silence.
"Y-yep, I think so," Goten stammered.
Asuma and Kurenai exchanged uneasy glances. The whole "new personality" thing had them on edge.
"Can we just start already?" Trunks snapped, his nerves fraying. Honestly, between Anko and Ino, his patience was already gone.
"Oh my, someone's cranky." Ino smirked, hands on her hips. "What's wrong, Trunks? Feeling the pressure? You look a little tense…"
Her sly tone and feline smile turned his face crimson.
"N-no, it's not that! I just—uh—think everyone's busy and wants to get this over with!" He darted a desperate look at Neji, hoping for support. None came.
"Alright then," Goten said cheerfully. "Let me show you the steps!"
"Goten, I really don't think we need to—let's just do it—"
"I want to see the steps," Anko interrupted, biting back laughter. Trunks shot her a glare that screamed I hate you, which only made her grin wider.
"So!" Goten began enthusiastically. "First, both people need to be about the same height. Then we balance our ki to the exact same level."
Kurenai and Asuma exchanged glances again—it sounded dumb, but it made sense. Matching energy would be tricky without sensors.
"Next, we stand this far apart. Then we do this!"
He swung both arms to one side of his body, crossing one over his chest.
"We have to keep the angle just right. Now—FUUUUU…!"
He shuffled sideways in tiny, rapid steps.
"We say 'Fu' while switching arms to the other side, taking exactly three steps. Then—SIOOOON!"
He raised one knee high, crossing it over as he mirrored the arm movement.
"Then we stretch forward—HAAAAA!—and touch fingertips, keeping our legs straight, like this! Trunks has to mirror me perfectly, as if we were reflections of each other!"
Silence. Complete and utter silence.
A tumbleweed might as well have rolled by.
Everyone—including Neji—had a massive sweat drop on their necks. Even Hinata, usually so composed, had her jaw hanging slightly open. Sakura and Ino turned to each other like malfunctioning robots, speechless.
Lee and Gai, on the other hand, were practically vibrating with excitement, eyes sparkling.
"Such youthful synchronization! Magnificent!"
And then—
"HAHAHAHAHAHA! STOP, STOP, YOU'RE KILLING ME!"
Anko doubled over laughing, clutching her stomach in pain, tears streaming down her face. She could barely breathe.
"GOTEN, CUT THE NONSENSE ALREADY!" Sakura snapped, veins pulsing on her temple. Her soreness forgotten, she stomped toward the Saiyan, rolling up her sleeves. "All that buildup—for this?! Are you kidding me?! We thought you were serious!"
"No, really! That's actually how it goes—those are the poses!"
His voice came out as little more than a whisper—yet somehow, everyone heard it loud and clear. Sakura and Goten froze mid-motion like a still photo: the kunoichi had him by the collar of his dōgi, her other hand raised in a tight fist, ready to strike. Both of them stood petrified, staring in disbelief at a flustered Trunks, who kept his gaze fixed on the ground, his face redder than the ripest apple.
"Quit messing around, Trunks! Those aren't the steps to a technique! It looks more like a stupid dance! Are we really supposed to believe two living beings can fuse into one just by doing that ridiculous nonsense?"
"I–Ino, calm down. I–It's the truth…"
As if to prove it, a faint humming sound filled the air. Trunks's golden hair dulled and turned lavender again, his bright turquoise eyes settling into the familiar blue that matched Ino's own.
"I just need to balance my ki with Goten's. Hopefully, we don't mess up…"
Sakura went still. Without saying a word, she released Goten and quietly returned to her spot. Anko's laughter, which had echoed a moment ago, had long since died out. She now looked serious, realizing this wasn't a joke—and that the technique, while absurd, seemed designed by someone with the mental development of a three-year-old.
The Saiyans took their positions three meters apart, exchanged a solemn look, and nodded firmly.
"FUUUUUU—SION! HAAAAAAA!"
To the shinobi watching, both boys executed the steps perfectly, mirroring each other's movements with uncanny precision—like two dancers facing a mirror. The moment their fingertips touched, a brilliant golden light exploded outward, blinding everyone in an instant.
"It's working!" shouted a stunned Asuma, jaw dropping as his last cigarette fell from his mouth.
The blinding radiance stabbed at their retinas, forcing them to shield their eyes with crossed arms. When the light finally faded, they all stood frozen, mouths hanging open.
Goten and Trunks were gone. In their place stood a single being.
"A-a-amazing!" Chōji exclaimed, adrenaline surging through him as he took in the sight of the 'ultimate warrior.' He'd always known chubby guys had power!
"That's… Gotenks?" Ino's face turned blue. She couldn't believe it—the boy with the best body she'd ever seen had turned into… this. He wasn't just overweight; he was massive. His chin melted right into his chest—he didn't even have a neck!
Where Trunks's sculpted abs once were, now sat a colossal belly that made Chōji's look small. And to make things worse, his outfit did nothing to hide it.
His clothes had transformed—he now wore loose white pants like something from an Indian festival, and a tiny open blue vest with yellow shoulder pads that barely covered his torso. Some of the genin vaguely remembered bedtime stories featuring a genie dressed just like that.
For a split second, Ino froze in horror—those baggy white pants were exactly like the ones Majin Buu wore.
"So… this is Gotenks? He doesn't look very impressive," Shikamaru muttered, eyeing the 'warrior.' His hair spiked like Goten's, but with streaks of Trunks's signature lavender. He couldn't decide which one he resembled more.
"He's moving! Watch out!" Kiba shouted, bracing for an explosion big enough to level the whole training field.
Nothing happened.
The chubby Saiyan simply started stretching awkwardly, gasping for air between movements. Then he began jogging in tiny, clumsy steps, barely lifting his feet off the ground. Even that seemed exhausting. Finally, he stopped, scratched the back of his neck, and laughed.
"Hahaha! Oops! I did it wrong!"
THUD!
Everyone fell flat on their backs.
Suddenly, it all made sense.
Chōji's disappointment hit like a kunai to the gut. He dropped his bag of chips, devastated. He'd been ready to brag across all of Konoha that Gotenks was a long-lost Akimichi cousin—a way to earn the clan some long-overdue respect.
"So… what now?" Kurenai asked, trying to be heard over Anko's roaring laughter that practically shook the ground.
"We wait thirty minutes for the fusion to wear off," the Saiyan puffed, resting his plump hands on his knees to breathe. His face dripped with sweat. "Before coming here, I'd learned how to undo the fusion manually… looks like I forgot how."
The whole thing was surreal—not just that the two boys were somehow inside this creature, but that his voice sounded like both Goten and Trunks speaking at once.
At least he seemed aware of everyone's presence. But Ino now understood what Trunks meant—Gotenks wasn't controlled by either of them. He acted entirely on his own. He didn't even notice her. And she was sure the real Trunks, wherever he was 'inside,' must've been dying of embarrassment.
Thirty long minutes crawled by. No one dared to speak. The shinobi just watched the overweight Saiyan stretch and stumble about while he ignored their stares.
Then—POOF!
A puff of white smoke—just like when a clone vanished—burst around him.
"IT WASN'T MY FAULT!" Goten shouted, instantly defensive, already bracing for Trunks's scolding.
"YES, IT WAS! YOU'RE THE ONE WHO'S INJURED! THIS IS ALL ON YOU!"
In truth, both were to blame. Goten hadn't extended his right arm fully because of his injury, but Trunks had curled his finger a millimeter too soon—enough to ruin the technique completely. During the steps, he'd accidentally locked eyes with Ino, and the distraction made him falter at the last instant.
And the worst part? Ino knew it. She'd caught the look in slow motion—saw how he lost focus because of her. And now she realized Goten was right: every move in that dance had to be perfect.
"Fine! Doesn't matter whose fault it was—let's just do it again!" Trunks snapped, losing patience. He wasn't angry at Goten; he admitted his mistake. 'Worried' was the better word—he knew even if he nailed it, Goten's injury made failure likely. But he chose to hope.
"FUUUUUU—SION! HAAAAA!"
They repeated the process exactly. This time, Trunks kept his focus steady—no distractions, no mistakes.
Again, the blinding golden light flared when their fingers met. The shinobi shielded their eyes, too eager to look away, desperate to see what came next.
But what they saw was worse than before.
"They messed up again…" Shikamaru muttered dryly.
Anko's shrieking laughter shattered the silence, echoing over the stunned crowd.
The others began to exchange looks—half disbelief, half amusement. Kiba and Ino's grins were the widest of all.
Hinata covered her eyes as if she'd witnessed something indecent. Neji raised one disdainful eyebrow, silently condemning the two Saiyans' incompetence. For beings so powerful, their stupidity was staggering.
"I can't tell which version is worse," Asuma said grimly, glancing at Kurenai. Along with Gai, they seemed to be the only ones who grasped how serious this really was. "He looks… malnourished. Barely breathing."
If the first fusion had looked overweight, this one was the opposite—painfully thin. Every breath made his ribs stand out sharply; his grayish skin clung to his bones, and his hollow, pale face screamed exhaustion.
"Just look at you!" Anko sneered, walking up to the trembling figure and slapping him on the back hard enough to almost knock him over. "You wouldn't last a second in the Forest of Death! Actually, never mind—you'd make it to the tower just fine! No animal would want to eat you—you're all bones! HAHAHAHA!"
"Anko-sensei can be cruel…" Lee murmured, one of the few not laughing.
Ino's amusement faded, replaced by guilt. One by one, the others quieted down too.
Even Anko's laughter finally dwindled to silence, her face tightening into something grave. Goten's condition was no joke—if he didn't recover, they could all be in danger.
"We could use painkillers," Kurenai suggested, watching from afar as a few genin helped steady the skeletal Gotenks. "If Goten can't feel pain, he can stretch his arm fully without holding back. We'll deal with the consequences after the fight."
"To be fair," Gai said, wiping sweat from his gleaming brow, "their progress is impressive. It's only been a week, and he's moving much better. The wound was deep—bone, vessels, muscle… even his right lung didn't come out unscathed."
When the thirty minutes finally passed, the fusion ended in another puff of smoke, leaving the two Saiyans sitting in the grass, both exhausted but smiling faintly.
"Let's just hope that monster takes his time showing up," Kurenai muttered, biting the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood. Her jaw tightened, her expression dark. "We need Lady Tsunade—fast."
Somewhere In Space—
"It can't be…! What the hell is going on?!" The soldier's hurried footsteps echoed through the narrow metallic corridors of the spaceship. "First Lord Frieza… and now this?"
Sauza stood frozen in disbelief as the transmission from Command Central on Planet Frieza 83 came through. According to the report, the Ginyu Force had been deployed to a small, previously unknown planet called Earth. They returned—except for Jeice—in terrible condition. And worst of all, Captain Ginyu herself had been killed during the failed invasion attempt.
Ordinarily, that wouldn't have shaken the elite soldier so much. But there were details that made his blood run cold. The ones responsible for annihilating the feared squad weren't an army… but two individuals. Technically, there hadn't even been an invasion. Not a single Earthling had died in the encounter.
And the most terrifying part? Those two beings had repelled the conquest without even breaking a sweat—one of them reportedly possessed a power level exceeding one billion.
"I thought what happened on Namek would never happen again…" He brushed a strand of sweat-soaked blond hair from his forehead as the news of Frieza's death echoed in his mind for what felt like the hundredth time. The idea that two Earthlings could be on par with that Namekian warrior, Nail, chilled him. "No, impossible… a billion is still too little. That Namekian was something else entirely…"
The hiss of the automatic door rising before him snapped him to attention. He'd been rehearsing what to say for so long—yet standing before Cooler, he realized none of it mattered. He straightened up and crossed his right arm over his chest in a deep, formal salute.
"Have you completed the report on Planet Arlian?" The voice that met him was sharp and cruel—impossible to ignore. Even the walls of the chamber seemed to tremble at its sound, dreading what might follow once Cooler heard the news.
"Y–Yes, Lord Cooler. But… we've just received a last-minute report from Planet Frieza 83." He swallowed hard, drawing a breath that lasted no more than five seconds—but to him, it felt like an eternity. "Captain Ginyu is dead. The rest of her squad barely made it back alive. The culprits… were two Earthlings."
"Did you say two?" Cooler turned from the monitor displaying the barren surface of Planet Arlian. His cold crimson eyes locked onto Sauza, half his face hidden by the shadows—making him look every bit the savage, ruthless being that he was.
"N–Not only that, my lord. One of them possessed a power level surpassing one billion units. The other seemed to be nearly as strong."
For just a second—no more—Cooler's eyes widened. Both aliens knew exactly what that meant. A power level of eighteen thousand was enough to destroy a small planet. With one billion… even a star was nothing.
"What are your orders, my lord?" Sauza forced his voice to stay steady. He didn't like the silence that followed—Cooler had turned his back, staring once more at the image of the planet they'd been bombarding for over an hour.
"The report on Planet Arlian," Cooler finally said. His tone was calm, but Sauza could detect a faint tension beneath it—something no one else would have noticed. He knew him too well. "Based on the data collected, how long would it take to conquer the entire planet?"
What could he say? In his opinion, that wretched planet wasn't even worth the trouble. It had little water—a resource highly prized by most buyers. But Cooler's mind was impossible to predict, and that unpredictability was maddening.
"Planet Arlian—over six hundred million square kilometers of surface area. Average temperature: fifty degrees Celsius. Virtually no water. Gravity: fifty meters per second squared. Small population—barely over a hundred million, with a few belonging to warrior races. Average power level doesn't exceed five thousand, and there's no evidence of special techniques, magic, or telepathic abilities. Between Neiz, Dore, and myself, we could conquer it in… three hours at most."
Sauza tried to sound as neutral and professional as possible while delivering the report. Cooler was always methodical—far more cautious and calculating than his late brother. A little research before each invasion was standard procedure under his rule.
"I see. So Planet Arlian isn't much to look at after all."The mechanical hiss of a sliding hatch echoed from above—the ceiling hatch opening. Cooler was leaving.
With his hands clasped behind his back, the tyrant of the cold began to levitate, gliding smoothly through the metallic opening. Sauza wasted no time following him up to the ship's outer deck.
There they stood, side by side, surrounded by the vast, frigid silence of space. Before them, at a great distance, floated a small red planet—innocent and unmoving. Planet Arlian.
"A small planet… though larger and denser than Earth."Cooler raised his right hand, extending his index finger. A tiny orange spark appeared at its tip.
Sauza already knew what was coming. He instinctively stepped back, watching as the glowing sphere grew larger and brighter with each passing second, flooding the void with crimson and orange light—the colors of death itself. The power radiating from that miniature sun was overwhelming, suffocating, focused rage condensed into a ball barely a kilometer wide.
And with an eerie grace, Cooler tilted his finger forward. That tiny motion was enough to launch the burning sphere toward the doomed world.
It seemed to drift slowly through the dark expanse—but that was an illusion. The ball of pure energy tore through the distance between them in seconds, racing mercilessly toward the planet's surface.
The supernova vanished from sight—too small and too far away to see. Only a faint red flicker remained, blinking in the blackness… until enormous golden cracks began to spread across the planet's crust.
From their position, it almost looked delicate—a glass orb fracturing under invisible, unimaginable pressure. The cracks multiplied like a massive spiderweb, soon covering the entire surface of Arlian.
In truth, the planet was splitting apart. Tectonic plates shattered, continents tore away, and rivers of molten lava burst skyward with catastrophic fury. The world itself was being undone—its fragility laid bare before the indifferent void.
KABOOOOOM!
It happened in an instant. Planet Arlian exploded like a switch had been flipped. Golden light erupted in every direction, fierce and unrestrained—rage and agony given form—as one hundred million lives were snuffed out in a single heartbeat.
For the tyrant of the cold, it meant nothing. The orange and yellow glare carved hard lines across his face, but not a single muscle moved. Frieza would've gone mad with joy, screaming in ecstasy at the sight of so much death, reveling in the annihilation of an entire world.
But Cooler was different. He never lost his composure. He was simply doing his duty—ensuring that no more powerful beings would rise from nowhere. Those two Earthlings could not be allowed to live. Nor that Namekian warrior. There was no time for another invasion; the planet's destruction was more efficient.
The shockwaves finally reached them, making the massive ship lurch violently. The infernal heat from the blast—tens of thousands of degrees—vaporized every trace of the planet, washing over the two unmoving aliens who seemed utterly unfazed by it.
A cold shiver ran down Sauza's spine nonetheless. He was used to seeing such things, but the spectacle never lost its terrible awe. And in that moment, a memory cut through his composure: his own home world, torn apart in the same way. He'd been just a child then, and Jeice only a baby—but he could never forget the day Frieza destroyed their planet without a flicker of remorse… just as Cooler had done now.
They'd both been recruited afterward, chosen for their potential. And in that, Frieza had not been wrong. The tyrant had an uncanny eye for talent—helped, of course, by his trusty scouter. "As for the rest of this planet," Frieza had said, "they're worthless. Trash."Sauza clenched his fists so tightly at the memory that his white gloves were soaked in his own purple blood.
He regretted it every day. Back then, he was just a frightened kid. But now, looking back, he would've preferred to die with his planet. Secretly, he'd felt nothing but satisfaction when he heard that Frieza was dead.
"Sauza!" Cooler's commanding voice snapped him back to reality. "Head to the control room and alert Dore and Neiz. Prepare everything—we're leaving immediately for Planet Frieza 83 to rendezvous with what remains of the Ginyu Force."
He paused just as the last golden flashes of Arlian's destruction faded away, leaving them surrounded by utter darkness—the cold, endless silence of space where, moments ago, an entire world had existed.
And though Sauza couldn't be sure, he could've sworn he saw a cruel smile forming on Cooler's lips as he spoke his final words:
"We're paying a visit to Planet Earth."