"So that's the secret," Rhode's clone murmured, his analytical gaze piercing through the violent aura surrounding Goku. A revelation dawned on him. The raw multiplier—whether it was truly one hundredfold or not—was secondary. The true marvel was Goku's physiological state.
It was unnatural. Perhaps the ki transferred from Piccolo had catalyzed a unique, synergistic reaction with Goku's own energy. The clone observed a fascinating paradox: while the colossal strain of the extreme Kaio-ken was brutally tearing Goku's muscles and fibers apart, an opposing, profound restorative force was healing the damage almost instantaneously. It created a precarious equilibrium, allowing Goku to wield impossible power without immediately disintegrating.
Could Piccolo's energy specifically trigger this? Or is this a phenomenon unique to the rules of this parallel world? The questions flickered through his mind. The practical implication, however, was clear: if the devastating physical backlash of Kaio-ken could be neutralized or offset, then the multiplier's ceiling was theoretically limitless. It wasn't just about brute durability; it was about managing the consequences of the strain.
A powerful recovery technique? A forced state of "perfect condition"? The concepts swirled, offering avenues for research. Yet, for Rhode himself, the path forward was different. Once I ascend to Super Saiyan, he reasoned, the various grades of that form will offer multipliers that eclipse even this, with a fraction of the backlash. Pouring excessive effort into mastering a burdensome Kaio-ken variant seemed inefficient now.
Still, he conceded, the principle could be useful for others. He filed the insight away—a project for a subordinate, perhaps, but not a priority for his own training.
His attention snapped back to the climax of the battle. Empowered by the miraculous Kaio-ken, Goku unleashed a triumphant Dragon Fist, a brilliant spectral dragon erupting from his fist to pierce clean through Slug's massive chest. Victory seemed assured.
But it wasn't.
As Goku soared skyward to clear the planet-enshrouding clouds, a groaning, hate-filled roar echoed from below. Slug—impossibly—lurched back to his feet. The grievous wound on his chest writhed and closed with stubborn, malevolent vitality.
This… isn't right. A deep frown etched itself on the clone's face. His memory of these cinematic tales was hazy, but the narrative had already twisted too many times. The villain's resilience defied the story's logic. A cold suspicion crystallized: Is this a timeline where the hero actually loses?
Before he could ponder further, Slug vanished and reappeared behind the exhausted Goku in a blur of speed, driving an elbow into his back that sent the Saiyan cratering into the earth. Goku's aura guttered, faint as a dying ember.
Something is very wrong here.
BOOM!
With a surge of murderous ki, Slug descended from the sky like a green meteor, aiming to crush Goku into paste. The clone moved.
In the instant before impact, Rhode's figure materialized beside Goku in a flash of light. He snatched the barely conscious warrior away just as Slug struck, transforming the ground into a seismic bowl of fractured earth.
Standing a short distance away, supporting a limp Goku, Rhode faced the furious Slug. The Namekian's aura, while diminished from its peak, still radiated a oppressive, victorious menace that utterly dwarfed the fallen heroes.
"Tha...thanks..." Goku managed weakly, his vision swimming. He took in the devastating scene: Krillin unconscious, Gohan and Piccolo fallen, and himself utterly spent. They were finished.
"It's you?!" Slug bellowed, his astonishment turning to rage as he identified the one who had dared steal his final kill. "The one who should be dust!"
This couldn't be a parallel world where Slug achieved the final victory, could it? Rhode thought with intense irritation, shifting his stance to place himself squarely between the staggering Namekian and the defeated Z-Fighters. The script was broken, and now, the observer had no choice but to become the protagonist.
A flicker of desperate hope ignited in Goku's eyes as he registered Rhode's timely rescue. "Can... can you defeat him?" he gasped, the plea etched into every pained line of his face.
Rhode met his gaze, an expression of genuine apology settling on his features. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice steady but firm. "My power here is limited. Dealing with him is beyond my current capability." It was the simple, frustrating truth. This body was a vessel for observation and memory, not for conquest. While Slug was weakened, the fraction of power Rhode's main self had allocated to this clone was simply insufficient for a direct, victorious confrontation.
"I see," Goku murmured, the brief light in his eyes dimming. A profound weariness, deeper than any physical injury—the bitterness of a protector facing ultimate failure—washed over him. He looked past Rhode at the looming Slug. This time... I've failed.
"Don't give up just yet," Rhode said quickly, cutting through the despair. He shifted his grip to better support Goku. "While I can't beat him, you're still here."
"Me?" A humorless, breathy laugh escaped Goku's lips. He gestured weakly at his own trembling form. "I can barely stand. There's no fight left in me."
"Then we'll put it back in you." Rhode's free hand came up, palm glowing with a soft, green-gold light. "I know a thing or two about recovery."
Before Goku could question it, the healing energy of the Recovery Technique washed over him. It was not the slow, gradual process of a Senzu bean, but a swift, comprehensive flood of restoration. In the space of a single breath, shattered bones knitted, torn muscles rewove themselves, and depleted energy reserves surged back to their peaks. The pallor of exhaustion vanished from Goku's face, replaced by the vibrant glow of perfect health.
"Whoa!!" Goku exclaimed, leaping to his feet and clenching his fists. Power hummed through his veins, familiar and potent. "That's incredible!"
His eyes, now sharp and focused, locked onto Slug, who watched this miraculous recovery with stunned fury. Goku didn't waste the moment. "I'll handle him! Please, save the others!" he called to Rhode, already launching himself toward the Namekian in a burst of speed.
Rhode gave a slight, acknowledging nod. In a series of blurs almost too fast to see, he retrieved the fallen warriors—Piccolo, Gohan, and the unconscious Krillin—gathering them safely away from the epicenter of the renewed battle. With efficient pulses of the same healing light, he restored each of them. Bruises faded, wounds closed, and consciousness returned.
Within moments, the previously decimated team was whole again, seated together on a relatively stable piece of rubble. They watched, a captivated audience of four, as a fully rejuvenated Goku, burning with righteous anger and restored might, re-engaged the bewildered and increasingly desperate Slug. The tide of the battle, so cruelly turned moments before, was now poised to swing definitively—and this time, the heroes would have a front-row seat.