The world dissolved into light.
Wind became sound, sound became pressure, and the pressure shattered into silence. When Buu opened his eyes, the sky was gone — replaced by an endless void of color and storm. Waves of violet and crimson energy rippled through the air, folding reality in on itself.
Fragments of broken time drifted — people, cities, planets — dissolving as quickly as they appeared.
He floated there, motionless. His aura flared gently, keeping the chaos at bay.
"So this is the storm of time," he murmured, his voice echoing without direction.
Around him, echoes whispered. Voices from other timelines, fragments of possibilities — laughter, screams, words spoken and never spoken.
Each one tugged at him — tempting, taunting, promising power or memory — but he ignored them.
Then, slowly, a shadow took form ahead — humanoid, but unstable. Its outline shimmered between dozens of faces. Buu narrowed his eyes.
"Another trick?"
The figure tilted its head. Its voice came like many overlapping tones — child, woman, man, beast. "Not a trick. A reflection."
Buu stared. "Reflection of what?"
"Of you."
The void pulsed once. In a blink, the shadow solidified — and now it looked exactly like him. The same shape, same eyes, same smirk. Only its colors were inverted — dark aura, white skin, red marking and black eyes.
Buu's gaze hardened. "You're not me."
"Oh, I am. The part you keep pretending doesn't exist." The clone — his other self — stepped closer, boots touching nothing but ripples of energy. "Do you remember? Before all this? You were just a man."
The storm dimmed, and flashes of memory erupted in its glow: a city skyline, a hand reaching out, the moment of death — and then, rebirth, inside a pink shell.
Buu's jaw tightened. "That life's gone."
"Gone?" the echo chuckled. "No, it's buried. You just drowned it in strength, in control, in all that false calm. But I'm what's left of him — the will that crawled into this body and made it his own."
"I don't need you."
"You do," the doppelgänger said simply. "Because you're breaking apart."
At that, the void itself reacted — a low, endless rumble. Cracks of violet light zigzagged across the horizon.Buu felt a flicker of instability in his aura — a pulse that wasn't his.
"What's happening?" he demanded.
"The paradox," the echo said. "The wish. When you made it, you rewrote something you weren't supposed to. The flow of time bent, and the rift formed. That's why the Time Patrol hunts you, why Fu wants to study you. You're a walking contradiction."
"So fix it," Buu said simply.
The reflection's grin widened. "That's what I'm here for."
He raised his hand, and the void erupted. Energy cascaded from nowhere, forming a mirror of crimson light before them.Through it, Buu saw a familiar scene — the night sky of namek, Porunga coiled above the ruins, and Buu standing below, saying:
"Send me back… far, far away. Back to the day when that boy called Goku first transformed into a giant ape and killed his precious grandfather. I want to be there."
Buu's eyes narrowed.
"The origin," his echo confirmed. "That wish fractured reality. Because of you. You stood there outside of your own history, a man reborn in a time where you never should've existed. Your presence is the infection."
"Then I'll remove it."
The echo smiled approvingly. "Then you understand."
It stepped closer, voice dropping to a whisper."To fix the rift, you must erase the version of you that existed before the wish — the 'original.' Once that moment ends, the timeline stabilizes. The paradox will close."
Buu's eyes glowed faintly, his voice calm but cold. "You're asking me to kill myself."
"I'm telling you the truth," the reflection said. "You can't coexist with your origin. Two realities fighting for one timeline — it's tearing the multiverse apart. Eliminate the source, and everything aligns."
"And if I do?" Buu asked. "What happens next?"
The reflection's grin faded into something somber. "Then you become a fugitive. The Time Patrol won't forgive you, and Fu will hunt you. You'll be both anomaly and key — the proof that even gods can bleed."
Silence hung heavy between them, broken only by the faint hum of fractured time. Buu stared at the mirror again — at the version of himself standing beside Porunga.
He exhaled. "You sound almost sorry."
"Maybe I am," said the reflection softly. "Because once you do this, there's no coming back. You'll be bound to this timeline through the absorbed Goku."
Buu turned his head slightly, eyes calm once more. "And you? Why help me?"
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