The silence after Porunga vanished felt heavier than the dragon himself.
A moment earlier, the enormous green dragon had filled the sky above Namek, his glowing red eyes looking down upon the gathered Namekians while the power of their ancient Dragon Balls trembled through the atmosphere. Now the sky was empty again. Seven orange spheres rested on the grass, their stars glimmering beneath the pale light of Namek's distant sun.
Elder Oru stood motionless beside them.
The old Namekian's long fingers curled slowly into his palms. He had lived long enough to witness the destruction of his people, the sacrifice of his family, and the enslavement of gods who had once promised to protect them. He had watched the sacred world of his ancestors become a fortress for a tyrant.
Yet somehow, the revelation that the Earth Dragon Balls had become more powerful than Porunga's magic unsettled him more than the sight of Frieza's armies ever had.
Because it meant their enemy had learned how to turn hope itself into a weapon.
Across from him, Taru stared at the empty sky with his arms folded over his chest.
"Well," the Saiyan finally muttered, "that's inconvenient."
Faye, who had been sitting on a low stone beside him, turned his head.
"Inconvenient?" he repeated, his voice still rough from his recent injuries. "Taru, the wish failed because a Namekian fused with his evil counterpart, remade the Dragon Balls, and is now apparently sitting in Frieza's palace with seven wish-granting orbs floating around his head."
He paused.
"And you call that inconvenient?"
Taru glanced at him.
"Would you prefer I call it a disaster?"
"Yes! At least that would show you're taking it seriously."
"I'm taking it very seriously." Taru's stomach growled.
Faye stared at him.
Taru looked down at his abdomen, then back at Faye. "I'm taking it seriously on an empty stomach."
For a moment, Faye seemed to struggle between scolding him and laughing. In the end, he covered his face with one hand.
"I cannot believe I followed you across time and space."
"You jumped onto my back."
"That is not the point!"
A faint, almost forgotten sound escaped Oru.
Laughter.
It was brief and quiet, and it faded before it could become anything substantial. But the elder looked at the two strangers with an expression that had not appeared on his face in many years.
For a few heartbeats, they sounded like ordinary people.
Not warriors discussing how to break into the palace of a god-killing tyrant. Not travelers from another timeline carrying power that could tear open the heavens. Just two companions arguing over food while the fate of an entire universe rested somewhere beyond their reach.
Oru lowered his gaze to the Dragon Balls.
"Come," he said. "We should not remain out here."
Taru's expression sharpened.
"Why? Did the failed wish alert Frieza?"
"I do not know." Oru lifted one of the orange spheres and cradled it carefully in both hands. "But I have learned that when a wish fails, the world does not always remain unchanged."
He looked toward the horizon.
"Sometimes, the answer is not what you requested. Sometimes, it is the thing that heard you asking."
The wind moved across the grass.
Taru's eyes narrowed slightly.
That was a better warning than Oru probably realized.
"Then let's get inside," Taru said. "And after that, I want to know everything you remember about the Kais, the barrier, and the way Frieza captured them."
Faye slid off the stone and stood, testing his balance. His body still ached from Dodoria's attack, but the Namekian healing magic had restored most of his strength. He adjusted his clothes and stepped closer to Taru.
"And I want to know how we're supposed to rescue immortal gods from an immortal prison guarded by a tyrant who killed Beerus."
Taru began walking.
"One problem at a time."
"That's what people say immediately before discovering there are twelve more problems."
"Then we'll solve thirteen."
Faye followed him, muttering under his breath.
Oru watched them leave, the Dragon Ball held against his chest.
For the first time in decades, he wondered whether the future might contain something other than survival.
And far beyond Namek, something had already begun listening.
The water in the prison's central channel never rippled.
It flowed through the chamber in a perfect, silent stream, passing beneath polished black bridges and disappearing into narrow openings in the walls. The water was clear enough to reveal the silver runes etched along the channel's bottom, yet no reflection appeared upon its surface.
Not even when Shin knelt beside it.
The imprisoned Supreme Kai watched the stream with tired eyes, his hands folded inside the sleeves of his ceremonial clothes. The fabric had once been pale lavender. Now, after years of confinement beneath Frieza's palace, it was stained and faded, its divine embroidery broken by the dark bands of suppression magic circling his wrists.
Behind him, Mel sat with her back against the wall.
Teal was curled beside her, knees drawn to her chest, trying to make herself small enough to disappear.
None of them spoke.
They had learned that silence could be a form of protection.
The chamber had no visible guards. It did not need them. Every wall carried a network of divine seals, and every doorway was watched by sensors connected directly to the power system beneath Frieza's palace. The prison was beautiful by design. Frieza had once told them that suffering was more entertaining when surrounded by things that reminded its victims of what they had lost.
He had not said it to frighten them.
He had said it because he genuinely believed it was funny.
Shin closed his eyes.
There.
A tremor.
It had been so faint that he almost dismissed it as the familiar pulse of the suppression network. The seals had been fluctuating more frequently in recent months, especially whenever Frieza used his destruction energy. But this disturbance had a different quality.
It did not feel like destruction.
It felt like something ancient pressing a finger against the edge of the universe.
Shin's breath caught.
For a fraction of a second, the divine stream beside him shivered.
Then it became still again.
"Shin?"
Mel's voice was barely audible.
He opened his eyes.
She had noticed.
Of course she had. Mel had spent decades learning to read the smallest changes in his expression, because sometimes the smallest changes were the only warning they received before Frieza's servants arrived.
"What happened?" she whispered.
"Nothing."
Mel's face hardened.
"Don't lie to me."
Shin looked toward Teal. The youngest Kai had raised her head, her eyes wide and frightened.
He softened his expression.
"I felt something beyond the palace," he admitted. "A presence I do not recognize."
"Frieza?" Teal asked.
"No."
"Whis?"
"No."
That answer frightened them more than the alternatives.
Mel slowly rose to her feet.
"Another god?"
"I don't think so."
"Then what?"
Shin hesitated.
He had felt countless divine energies during his life. Supreme Kais. Gods of Destruction. Angels. The cold, overwhelming presence of the Grand Priest, whose power had once seemed so distant that Shin could barely comprehend it.
This had been different.
There had been no polished divinity, no careful balance, no sense of universal order.
The presence had felt like a primordial beast waking beneath the earth.
Something that had existed before the rules were written.
"I don't know," Shin finally whispered.
And for the first time in years, the answer did not fill him with despair.
It filled him with hope.
That was precisely why it frightened him.
Hope made people careless. It made them reach for doors that could not be opened, whisper plans that should remain unspoken, and believe that a cage could be broken simply because someone powerful had appeared outside it.
Shin had seen what happened to those who believed too easily.
He turned away from the stream.
"Mel, I need you to watch the eastern seals."
She blinked.
"Why?"
"Because I want to know whether the disturbance affected the suppression network."
Understanding dawned on her face, followed by immediate concern.
"Shin, if the system detects us testing it"
"We will not attack it. We will observe."
"That is what you said before you tried to redirect the power from the western seal."
"And I was correct about the weakness."
"You were also unconscious for three days."
"An unfortunate side effect."
"Your definition of unfortunate is getting worse."
Despite herself, Mel almost smiled.
Teal slowly unfolded her arms.
"Can I help?"
Shin looked at her.
The fear in her face was still there, but beneath it was something new: a fragile determination that had not been visible since the day Frieza's soldiers dragged her into the palace.
"Yes," he said gently. "You can count the pulses."
Teal swallowed and nodded.
Shin returned to the water.
He placed two fingers above its motionless surface, careful not to touch it. A thin thread of God ki slipped from his hand, so faint that even the chamber's sensors might mistake it for background energy.
The suppression seals answered immediately.
Silver runes brightened beneath the water.
Shin stopped.
He waited.
One pulse.
Two.
Three.
The divine network continued humming, drawing power from the chamber and carrying it upward toward the palace's central structure.
Then, for the briefest instant, the current faltered.
The stream rippled.
Shin's eyes widened.
"Mel."
"I saw it."
"Again," he whispered.
Mel moved toward the eastern wall. Teal began counting under her breath.
Shin carefully released another thread of energy.
This time, he felt it.
A pressure from outside the system. Not enough to break the seals, but enough to make them respond. The prison's network had been designed to suppress divine energy by identifying it, isolating it, and forcing it into a regulated current.
Something outside had made that current hesitate.
The disturbance passed through the network like a stone thrown into a vast lake.
For one glorious instant, the suppression around Shin's wrists weakened.
He felt his own power stir.
Not much.
Barely enough to warm his fingers.
But it was his.
Shin's lips parted.
"By the Sacred World…"
Then the palace answered.
A deep metallic note rang through the chamber.
The water turned black.
The silver runes blazed, and the bands around Shin's wrists tightened so violently that he fell to one knee. Mel cried out as the eastern seals flashed. Teal scrambled backward, covering her ears as a crushing wave of divine suppression rolled through the room.
Shin clenched his teeth.
He would not scream.
He would not give Frieza the satisfaction.
The pressure rose, held for three seconds, and vanished.
Silence returned.
The water resumed its smooth, impossible flow.
Shin remained on one knee, breathing through the pain.
Mel hurried to his side.
"Are you insane?" she whispered furiously. "The system noticed!"
"It noticed a fluctuation," Shin replied.
"It noticed us!"
"Then it has told us something useful."
Mel stared at him as though she wanted to strike him.
Shin slowly raised his head.
"The network is not invulnerable. Something affected it from outside, and the system struggled to compensate."
Teal crawled closer.
"Does that mean someone is coming to rescue us?"
Shin looked at the black water.
He wanted to say yes.
He wanted to promise her that the stranger beyond the palace would arrive with enough power to shatter their chains, tear down Frieza's empire, and return the universe to the way it should have been.
But he had been a Supreme Kai long enough to know the difference between hope and certainty.
"I don't know," he told her.
Then he placed a trembling hand on her shoulder.
"But for the first time in a very long time, I think we may have a chance to change what happens next."
Above them, unseen sensors recorded the brief fluctuation.
And a few floors higher, an Angel's staff began to glow.
Frieza disliked surprises.
He disliked them even more when they occurred in several places at once.
From the balcony of his divine palace, the emperor watched a miniature projection of Namek rotating above his palm. The planet appeared peaceful, its green oceans and broad grasslands untouched by the devastation that had consumed so many worlds under his rule.
That peace irritated him.
Namek was a stubborn blemish on an otherwise orderly universe. Its inhabitants had resisted his authority, their Dragon Balls had proved frustratingly difficult to seize, and their little magical barrier had prevented his armies from obtaining the planet's resources for decades.
Now an unknown Saiyan had appeared, killed Dodoria, defeated Zarbon badly enough to send him fleeing, and forced his way through that very barrier.
All in the span of a single encounter.
Frieza's lips curled.
"How terribly inconsiderate."
Behind him, Zarbon stood with his head bowed. His armor had been repaired, but the damage to his pride would take considerably longer to heal. He had washed the blood from his face before returning to the palace, yet the memory of Taru's final expression remained vivid in his mind.
That calm, amused expression.
As if Zarbon had been nothing more than an amusing obstacle.
Frieza rotated the miniature planet between two fingers.
"Tell me something, Zarbon. When you fought this Saiyan, did you ever consider the possibility that he was deliberately holding back?"
Zarbon's jaw tightened.
"Yes, Lord Frieza."
"And when he began releasing more of his power?"
"I could not determine his upper limit."
"How unfortunate."
Frieza's tone was pleasant.
Zarbon knew better than to mistake that pleasantness for mercy.
"His energy was unusual," Zarbon continued carefully. "It was not simply a large quantity of ki. There was something… primitive about it. His aura seemed to interfere with the environment around him. Even my Spirit Fission technique struggled to maintain a stable connection."
Frieza's expression became thoughtful.
"Your technique was developed to separate energy from its owner."
"Yes, Lord Frieza."
"And this Saiyan disrupted it."
"Partially."
"Then perhaps the technique is not as refined as you claimed."
Zarbon lowered his eyes.
"I will improve it."
"Of course you will."
Frieza dismissed the projection with a flick of his wrist. The miniature Namek vanished, leaving only the vast panorama of planets visible beyond the balcony.
"Tell me about the other one."
Zarbon hesitated.
"The small Kai?"
"Unless you have discovered another small Kai hiding in my universe, yes."
"He was injured during the encounter. The Saiyan devoted a considerable amount of attention to protecting him."
Frieza smiled.
There it was.
A weakness.
Not necessarily a weakness of strength. Frieza had learned long ago that powerful beings could survive attacks that would annihilate lesser creatures. But affection, loyalty, fear of loss, those things were far more interesting.
They could make the strongest warrior in the universe behave like an idiot.
"And this Kai," Frieza continued, "did he fight?"
"Not effectively. He was caught off guard by Dodoria."
"Yet the Saiyan risked himself to protect him."
"Repeatedly."
Frieza's smile widened.
"How touching."
Zarbon remained silent.
Frieza turned away from the balcony.
"Summon the Seventh Imperial Survey Corps. I want every surviving record concerning the Namekian barrier, the stolen Yardrat techniques, and the old Kai suppression network."
"At once, Lord Frieza."
"And Zarbon?"
The green-skinned warrior stopped.
"Yes?"
"You will not return to Namek."
Zarbon looked up, surprised.
Frieza's expression was almost affectionate.
"You have already provided the stranger with an opportunity to study your techniques. It would be foolish to offer him a second demonstration before we understand his capabilities."
"I understand."
"Do you?"
The temperature around Zarbon seemed to fall.
Frieza stepped closer.
"Because I would hate to discover that your embarrassment has made you careless. Dodoria was powerful, loyal, and occasionally useful. Now he is dead. I have no intention of losing another subordinate simply because one of you mistakes anger for strategy."
Zarbon bowed deeply.
"It will not happen again."
"I sincerely hope not."
Frieza turned toward a tall archway leading into the palace.
"Bring me the Nameless Namekian."
Zarbon hesitated for half a second.
Then he bowed and departed.
Frieza watched him go.
The hesitation had been small, but it was there.
Everyone feared the Nameless Namekian. Even his own officers disliked entering the chamber where the fused guardian meditated among the seven Earth Dragon Balls. The creature possessed a disturbing mixture of divine discipline and ancient malice, and its power had grown considerably since the forced fusion.
Frieza had initially believed the fusion would make the Namekian easier to control.
Instead, it had created something that obeyed because obedience suited its present purposes.
There was a difference.
A dangerous one.
The doors opened.
The Nameless Namekian entered without bowing.
His green skin was darker than that of the Namekians Taru had encountered on Namek, almost shadowed around the temples. His white cape drifted behind him despite the absence of wind, and the seven orange Dragon Balls followed in a slow orbit around his body.
Their stars glimmered like watchful eyes.
"Emperor," he said.
Frieza smiled.
"Guardian."
Neither title carried respect.
Only recognition.
"I assume you have come to tell me that our visitors have attempted another wish."
"They attempted to summon me to Namek."
"And failed."
"Yes."
"How unfortunate for them."
The Nameless Namekian studied him.
"They are not finished."
Frieza gave a soft laugh.
"Of course they are not. One of them crossed a magical barrier that resisted my armies for decades, while the other has a suspicious connection to the Supreme Kai records. I would be disappointed if they surrendered because of a single failed wish."
The Nameless Namekian's eyes narrowed slightly.
"You have examined the records?"
"Whis has."
"And?"
"Apparently, one of the visitors resembles a Kai who abandoned his divine responsibilities in another timeline. The records are incomplete."
Something moved behind the Namekian's expression.
Not fear.
Interest.
"How much did the Angel discover?"
"Not enough to satisfy me."
"Then perhaps you should ask the Grand Priest."
For a moment, the room became very quiet.
Frieza's smile remained, but the muscles around his eyes tightened.
The Grand Priest.
Even now, after killing Beerus and claiming the position of God of Destruction, Frieza could not think of that name without remembering the difference between power and authority.
Power could be measured.
Authority could be imposed.
But the Grand Priest represented something far more unpleasant: a being whose place in the cosmic order made resistance feel meaningless.
Frieza had spent years ensuring that no one could tell him what to do.
He had no intention of asking permission to understand his own universe.
"How amusing," he said softly. "You seem unusually interested in my visitors."
"I am interested in anything that might change the balance of this world."
"Your world?"
The Namekian's expression did not change.
"My prison, then."
Frieza's smile sharpened.
"Better."
The two regarded one another for several seconds.
Then the Nameless Namekian lifted one hand. One of the Earth Dragon Balls drifted away from the orbit and settled above his palm.
"Their first wish was revealing. They wanted to bring me to Namek. That suggests they have already spoken to the survivors and learned what happened to the Kais."
"And if they discover the reason my prisoners cannot be freed?"
"They will attempt to reach them."
"Exactly."
Frieza walked toward the great window overlooking his palace grounds.
Below, imperial soldiers moved in precise formations through the courtyards. Ships descended into landing bays. Servants carried trays of food toward the residential wing. Everything appeared orderly.
Everything appeared obedient.
"I want them to come," Frieza said.
The Namekian watched him.
"To the palace?"
"Eventually."
"And before then?"
Frieza raised his hand, and a new projection appeared.
It showed Namek's barrier, its shimmering surface marked by the place where Taru had cut through it. The image shifted, displaying the planet's Dragon Balls and the surviving Namekians' settlement.
Frieza's eyes gleamed.
"Before then, I want to know how much the Saiyan values his little companion."
The Nameless Namekian's face grew unreadable.
"That is a dangerous game."
"All worthwhile games are."
"You may discover that the Saiyan's affection makes him more dangerous, not less."
Frieza laughed.
"Then I shall simply have to be careful."
He waved one hand.
A second projection appeared, showing a fleet of black imperial vessels. Their hulls carried no identifying insignia. Unlike the standard Frieza Force cruisers, these ships were narrow, heavily armored, and equipped with specialized containment technology.
The Nameless Namekian stared at them.
"You intend to use the Null Fleet?"
"Not against the Saiyan."
"Then against whom?"
Frieza's smile returned.
"That, dear guardian, is something I have not decided."
It was a lie.
The Nameless Namekian recognized it immediately.
But he did not challenge Frieza.
Instead, he allowed the seven Dragon Balls to resume their orbit and bowed his head by the smallest possible degree.
"As you wish."
He turned to leave.
"One more thing," Frieza said.
The Namekian stopped.
"If our visitor comes to the palace, I want him alive."
"Alive?"
"At least initially."
"And the Kai?"
Frieza's eyes gleamed with cold amusement.
"Especially the Kai."
The Nameless Namekian departed without answering.
As the doors closed behind him, Frieza's smile slowly faded.
He glanced toward Whis, who stood at the far end of the balcony with his staff resting lightly against one shoulder.
"You heard all of that, I assume."
"Every word," Whis replied pleasantly.
"Then tell me what you think."
Whis tilted his head.
"About the Saiyan?"
"About all of it."
The Angel's smile remained unchanged, but the light inside his staff had begun to swirl in a pattern Frieza had never seen before.
"I think," Whis said, "that your universe is becoming much more interesting than either of us expected."
Frieza stared at him.
"And what does your staff say?"
Whis glanced down at it.
For a moment, his usual cheerful expression became difficult to read.
"It says that the disturbance we detected a short while ago was not limited to Namek."
Frieza's eyes narrowed.
"Explain."
"The same fluctuation passed through the divine suppression network beneath this palace. Something affected the system from a distance."
"Something?"
"Or someone."
Frieza's tail flicked once.
The prison network was among the most carefully protected structures in his empire. It was powered by divine energy, reinforced with destruction energy, and designed to resist interference from even the most powerful Kai.
If someone had managed to affect it from Namek, the implications were considerable.
If someone had done so deliberately—
Frieza's expression darkened.
"Whis."
"Yes?"
"Find out what that Saiyan truly is."
Whis smiled.
"That may prove rather difficult."
Frieza turned toward him.
"Why?"
The Angel's staff stopped glowing.
"Because, Lord Frieza, whatever I have been able to observe so far suggests that he is not simply another Saiyan who has become unusually powerful."
Whis paused.
"He may be something much older."
The masked warrior's ship had been built from the remains of three different vessels.
Its outer hull came from an old Saiyan scout ship, its internal systems had been salvaged from a Frieza Force transport, and its engine had been reconstructed using components stolen from a destroyed Yardratian research station. The result was ugly, cramped, and almost impossible to detect while its pilot remained inside the asteroid.
The warrior preferred it that way.
He sat in the dim cockpit, his heavy breathing slowly returning to normal.
Green light pulsed through the narrow gaps in his armor.
The mask covering his face was scarred from countless battles, its narrow eye slits glowing faintly as he examined the data projected above the control panel. Outside the cockpit, the remains of the imperial convoy drifted through space.
He had destroyed every ship.
Every soldier.
Every weapon that had tried to stop him.
And yet, instead of feeling satisfied, he felt restless.
He hated that feeling.
Restlessness meant there was something he had not finished. Something that remained beyond his reach, something that refused to be crushed beneath his strength.
He clenched one hand.
The metal armrest creaked.
"Enough," he growled to himself.
The sound seemed too loud inside the tiny cockpit.
He leaned back and closed his eyes.
For a few moments, the darkness took him elsewhere.
A white room.
Cold restraints.
Voices speaking about him as though he were not present.
Numbers.
Measurements.
Commands.
The memory vanished as suddenly as it had appeared, leaving his pulse hammering and his fingers digging into the armrest.
He opened his eyes.
The mask's eye slits brightened.
"Never again."
He did not know how long he sat there, staring at the instruments.
Eventually, a small red indicator began blinking above the communications panel.
An intercepted transmission.
He reached forward and activated it.
Static filled the cockpit, followed by a series of clipped military reports. He had heard thousands of them over the years. Patrol assignments, resource shipments, executions disguised as security operations, and declarations of loyalty from soldiers who were terrified of the man they served.
Most of it was worthless.
Then he heard a name.
"…Namekian frontier. Unidentified Saiyan-class combatant. Imperial forces report the death of Commander Dodoria. Zarbon has withdrawn to the divine palace following a failed engagement. Subject breached the planetary barrier and entered the protected region…"
The warrior went completely still.
The transmission continued.
"…Companion identified as a Supreme Kai. Imperial command has classified the incident as a priority-level anomaly. All regional patrols are to maintain distance pending further orders…"
The signal crackled.
A second voice entered the transmission, quieter and more distorted.
"…The subject's transformation generated a disturbance detectable across multiple astronomical sectors. No reliable upper power estimate is available…"
The warrior slowly leaned toward the console.
Saiyan.
Another Saiyan.
The word seemed to linger in the cockpit long after the transmission ended.
For years, he had searched for answers among the ruins of a civilization he barely remembered. He had crossed dead worlds and hidden in asteroid fields, fighting whenever the empire's soldiers came too close. Every now and then, he had found traces of the Saiyans: old weapons, abandoned settlements, fragments of records that had survived the destruction of their people.
But he had never found someone like himself.
Someone whose existence was significant enough to force Frieza to respond.
He replayed the transmission.
This time, he listened to the details.
Dodoria was dead.
Zarbon had retreated.
A Saiyan had broken through Namek's barrier.
And a Supreme Kai traveled beside him.
The warrior's breathing grew heavier.
A deep, unfamiliar pressure stirred beneath his skin. It was not the sudden anger that usually came before a battle. It was something more complicated, an instinctive recognition that he could not explain.
He pressed one hand against his chest.
"Who are you?"
The ship's navigation computer displayed the coordinates of Namek.
He stared at them for a long time.
He knew what would happen if he went there. Frieza's forces would detect the change in his trajectory eventually. The emperor might send another fleet. The masked warrior would have to fight his way through it, and he might discover that the stranger was not an ally, not a fellow survivor, and not someone who wanted to be found.
He might discover that the stranger was an enemy.
The thought should have made him hesitate.
Instead, it made his fingers tighten around the controls.
He had spent years tearing through Frieza's empire because the empire was all he had left to hate. But hate was not a destination. It could keep a person moving long after hope had died, yet it could never tell him where to go once the fighting stopped.
Now, for the first time in a long while, he had a new direction.
He adjusted the ship's navigation system.
The engines hummed.
The asteroid's outer shell shifted as hidden panels opened, revealing a narrow path into open space.
The masked warrior paused with his hand above the final control.
A warning appeared on the console.
IMPERIAL PATROL DENSITY INCREASED ALONG NAMEKIAN FRONTIER.
He stared at the warning.
Then he laughed.
It was a harsh, humorless sound.
"Of course."
The empire was already tightening its grip around the planet.
That meant the stranger was important.
It also meant that if the warrior wanted to reach him, he would have to move before Frieza's forces closed the net.
He engaged the engines.
The old ship slipped from the asteroid and vanished into the darkness, its power signature reduced to a faint whisper.
Inside the cockpit, the masked warrior leaned forward.
"If the report is true," he murmured, "then the universe has produced another Saiyan."
His fingers tightened around the controls.
"I want to see what kind."
The ship accelerated toward Namek.
And deep beneath the mask, behind the fury and the memories he could never quite escape, a small and dangerous hope began to stir.
By the time Taru returned to Oru's hut, Faye had become thoroughly convinced that their next move required a plan.
Not a vague collection of ideas. Not Taru deciding to walk toward the strongest enemy in the universe and see what happened.
An actual plan.
He sat cross-legged on the floor beside a low wooden table, arranging small stones into rough representations of the major locations they knew about.
"This is Namek," he said, placing a green stone near the center. "This is Frieza's divine planet."
He placed a dark stone several inches away.
"This is the prison beneath his palace, where the Kais are being held. We don't know its precise location within the palace, but we know the suppression network connects it to the central structure."
Taru sat opposite him, eating another bowl of fruit that one of the Namekians had provided.
Faye pointed at the dark stone.
"And this is where we absolutely do not walk in without knowing anything about the defenses."
Taru swallowed.
"Agreed."
Faye stopped.
He looked suspicious.
"Really?"
"Really."
"No argument? No comment about how you could defeat the guards?"
"I could defeat the guards."
Faye's expression turned exasperated.
"Taru!"
"What? You said I shouldn't walk in without knowing anything about the defenses. I agreed."
"That is not the same as promising you won't walk in!"
Taru considered the distinction.
"Fair point."
Faye stared at him.
Then he picked up a small stone and threw it at Taru's forehead.
The stone bounced harmlessly off his skin.
Taru blinked.
"Was that necessary?"
"Deeply."
For a few seconds, they simply looked at one another.
Then Taru chuckled and returned to his food.
Faye shook his head, but the tension in his shoulders eased slightly. He had spent enough time with Taru to understand that the Saiyan's humor was often a way of keeping fear from becoming something larger.
It was also, occasionally, an excuse to behave like an overgrown child.
Faye turned back to the stones.
"The biggest problem isn't getting to the palace. It's the Dragon Balls."
Taru's expression became more serious.
"Explain."
"The Earth Dragon Balls are stronger than Porunga's. If Frieza used them to make the Kais immortal, then the wish is probably bound to the conditions of their existence. We can't just wish them free with Namek's Dragon Balls because the magic is weaker."
"Correct."
"And if we somehow steal Earth's Dragon Balls, the Nameless Namekian could probably prevent us from using them. He resisted Porunga's wish magic without even being on Namek."
Taru set his bowl aside.
"Also correct."
Faye leaned forward.
"So we need to understand the wish before we attempt to undo it. We need to know whether the immortality is attached to the Kais themselves, the divine planet, or the suppression network."
Taru studied him for a moment.
"That's a good start."
Faye's face brightened.
"Thank you."
"You're still forgetting the Angel."
The brightness vanished.
"Right."
"And Frieza."
"Yes."
"And the possibility that the Nameless Namekian isn't entirely loyal to Frieza."
Faye slowly lowered his head onto the table.
"I liked it better when I was unconscious."
Taru laughed.
Then, after a moment, his expression softened.
"You did well, Faye."
The younger Kai lifted his head.
Taru's voice had lost its teasing edge.
"You were injured, thrown against a magical barrier, and nearly killed by an attack intended for me. You could have spent the rest of the day recovering, but instead you're thinking about the problem and looking for ways to help."
Faye looked away.
"I don't want to be the person you have to protect all the time."
Taru was silent.
Faye's fingers curled around the edge of the table.
"I know I'm not as strong as you. I know I can't stand in front of Frieza and expect to survive. But I am a Kai. I understand divine magic, the way our techniques interact with the laws of this universe, and how the suppression network might work. I don't want to be carried into every dangerous situation and told to stay behind."
He looked back at Taru.
"I want to help free them."
For a moment, Taru saw something familiar in Faye's expression.
Not fear.
Not recklessness.
Determination.
It reminded him of the first time Shin had defied the expectations placed upon him. Of the first time Anat and Khai had chosen to trust someone instead of hiding behind old habits. Of every person who had ever stood beside Taru despite knowing that the world would be easier if they simply walked away.
Taru reached across the table and placed a hand over Faye's.
"Then you help me."
Faye blinked.
"Just like that?"
"Just like that."
"What about the dangerous parts?"
"We'll discuss them before we do anything reckless."
Faye stared at him.
"You're promising to discuss things before doing anything reckless?"
"I'm attempting to become a better person."
"You're doing a terrible job."
"Then you can supervise me."
Faye's smile returned.
"Gladly."
Oru entered the hut carrying a small bundle of folded cloth. He paused when he saw the stones spread across the table.
"Planning a war?"
"Not yet," Taru replied.
Oru looked at the dark stone representing Frieza's palace.
"Then you should begin by understanding what a war would cost."
He set the bundle down and took a seat.
"The Namekians who remain on this world are not merely survivors. We are the living memory of those who came before us. Every one of us carries the knowledge, the experiences, and a portion of the essence of those who chose to join us."
Taru nodded slowly.
"I know."
"Then you understand why I cannot allow you to risk this sanctuary carelessly."
"I do."
Oru studied him.
"Your power is immense. But power does not make you immune to consequences. If Frieza attacks Namek, our barrier may not protect us a second time. If he discovers that we have helped you, he may decide that our Dragon Balls are no longer worth preserving."
"Then we make sure he doesn't get the opportunity."
Oru's expression hardened.
"And if your plan fails?"
Taru looked down at the stones.
For once, he did not answer immediately.
He could survive an attack that would destroy a planet. He could transform into a form whose power threatened the surrounding galaxies. He could cross between timelines and challenge beings whose names were whispered with reverence or fear.
But he could not promise to save everyone.
That was the part of power no transformation could solve.
Finally, he lifted his eyes.
"Then we make sure the people here have a way to survive without us."
Oru watched him carefully.
It was not the answer he had expected.
"You would prepare an escape for us?"
"I would prepare several."
Taru moved the green stone representing Namek to one side of the table.
"If Frieza comes, I want the Namekians to have somewhere to go. If he targets the Dragon Balls, I want them separated from the settlement. If his forces discover our plans, I want them to find a decoy instead of the real objective."
Faye leaned over the table.
"We could also study the barrier and see whether it can be restored without requiring the same amount of God ki."
Oru's expression changed.
"You believe that is possible?"
"I don't know yet," Faye admitted. "But the suppression network and the barrier both use divine energy. If the network can be disrupted, perhaps we can learn something from the way it responds."
Oru looked between them.
The Saiyan was thinking about escape routes and contingencies. The Kai was studying the magic that had kept their people alive. Neither was promising a miracle.
They were offering work.
For a man who had spent decades listening to warriors promise victory, it was strangely reassuring.
Oru rose.
"There is something I should show you."
He crossed the room and pressed his palm against a carved symbol on the wall. A section of stone shifted inward, revealing a narrow chamber concealed behind the hut.
Inside, the walls were covered with ancient markings. Some depicted the Dragon Balls, others showed the Sacred World of the Kai before Frieza's conquest. A third set portrayed seven figures standing beneath a branching tree, their hands raised toward a sphere of light.
Faye stepped closer.
"These are records of the barrier?"
"Some of them," Oru replied. "Others describe the bond between the Kais and the Namekian Dragon Balls."
Taru examined the markings.
"And these?"
Oru's face grew solemn.
"The final group was made by the Kais themselves, shortly before Frieza captured them."
Faye's eyes widened.
"You still have their records?"
"Only fragments. Much was lost when our people were forced to abandon their ancient sanctuaries. But I believe these markings may describe the suppression technique Frieza later used against them."
Taru stepped into the chamber.
For the first time since Porunga had vanished, his expression held something close to genuine excitement.
"Now we're getting somewhere."
He reached toward the nearest marking.
The moment his fingers brushed the stone, the ancient symbols flickered.
A low vibration passed through the chamber.
Faye jerked backward.
"Taru, don't touch"
The markings flared with a faint golden light.
Then, deep beneath Frieza's palace, a matching set of runes lit up.
The divine suppression network registered an unexpected resonance.
For less than a second, the system's carefully regulated current changed direction.
And in the prison below, Supreme Kai Shin felt the bands around his wrists loosen.
He looked up sharply.
Mel turned toward him.
"That wasn't you."
"No," Shin whispered.
His eyes widened.
"Someone has found the old network."
Above them, the palace's central sensors activated.
Whis's staff chimed.
And Frieza, standing beside a window overlooking the stars, slowly turned his head toward Namek.
A smile spread across his face.
"There you are."
He lifted one hand.
The miniature projection of Namek appeared again, this time surrounded by a web of red lines marking imperial patrol routes.
"Prepare the operation."
Whis regarded him carefully.
"Which operation, Lord Frieza?"
Frieza's smile widened.
"The one that will teach our visitors an important lesson."
He closed his fingers around the projection.
The planet disappeared.
"Let them believe they have found a weakness."
_The Net Begins to Close
The first warning arrived in the form of a distant flash.
Taru was still examining the ancient markings when the light passed across the chamber's entrance. It was followed by a faint vibration beneath his feet, so subtle that an ordinary person might have mistaken it for distant thunder.
Taru did not.
He straightened.
Faye felt it a moment later.
"What was that?"
Oru hurried toward the entrance, his face drawn tight with concern.
"Something has disturbed the barrier."
Taru stepped outside.
The sky above Namek remained green, and the twin suns continued their slow passage across the horizon. But far beyond the hills, the barrier surrounding the planet had begun to shimmer in a strange pattern.
Not collapsing.
Not weakening.
Changing.
The energy that had once flowed in a smooth, continuous shell was now moving in narrow streams, each one tracing a different route around the planet. From a distance, the barrier looked like a web of luminous threads.
Taru's expression hardened.
"That's not natural."
"No," Oru whispered. "The barrier has never behaved like this."
Faye raised one hand and closed his eyes, reaching toward the divine energy woven through the planet's defenses.
His expression changed.
"Oh, no."
Taru glanced at him.
"What?"
"The energy is being redirected. Something is testing the barrier from outside, but it's not trying to break through."
"Then what is it doing?"
Faye swallowed.
"It's mapping the structure."
Taru stared toward the horizon.
Frieza wasn't sending soldiers to attack Namek.
He was studying the barrier, looking for a way to understand it, perhaps even a way to turn its own protections against the people who relied upon them.
The emperor had learned from the failed attacks of the past.
He was no longer trying to overpower the barrier.
He was trying to solve it.
Taru's mouth tightened.
"How long before he can get through?"
"I don't know," Faye admitted. "Hours, perhaps. Days, if the barrier is more complicated than his instruments can understand."
"And if he already knows how the Kai energy works?"
Faye looked at him.
"Then we may not have days."
A distant metallic hum rolled across the sky.
Oru's warriors began emerging from the settlement, looking upward with growing alarm. One of the younger Namekians pointed toward the horizon.
"Ships!"
Taru followed his gaze.
At the very edge of the barrier, several black shapes had appeared.
They were not standard Frieza Force cruisers. Their silhouettes were narrow and angular, their hulls coated in a dull material that swallowed the light around them. No insignia marked their sides. No weapons were visible.
They simply hovered beyond the barrier, arranged in a perfect formation.
Watching.
Taru's eyes narrowed.
"Those aren't ordinary patrol ships."
"No," Faye said quietly.
His face had gone pale.
"I can feel something inside them."
Taru looked at him.
"What kind of something?"
Faye stared at the ships.
"Suppression magic."
The black vessels began to move.
Not toward the barrier's weakest point.
Toward the entire planet.
One by one, they separated, spreading across the horizon until their positions formed a vast ring around Namek. Their hulls began to glow with thin silver lines, matching the runes that had appeared inside Frieza's palace.
Taru felt the familiar pressure of divine energy gathering around the planet.
It was the same energy he had sensed when Zarbon's Spirit Fission technique disrupted his ki.
Only now, it was not coming from a single opponent.
It was coming from an entire fleet.
Taru's aura stirred around him.
Faye immediately caught his arm.
"Wait."
Taru looked down at him.
"They're trying to provoke you," Faye said. "If you attack them, they may record how your energy interacts with the suppression field. If you transform, they could learn even more."
Taru's jaw tightened.
He hated being studied.
He hated being treated like a specimen, a weapon, or an experiment even more than he hated being controlled.
And these ships were doing exactly that.
He could feel their instruments searching for the shape of his power.
"Then we won't give them what they want."
Faye blinked.
Taru lowered his aura until the air around him became still.
"We find out what they're doing before we decide how to respond."
Oru looked at the approaching ships.
"And if they attack?"
Taru's expression became cold.
"Then they'll discover that studying a fire and standing inside one are two very different experiences."
Far away, inside the lead vessel, an imperial officer watched a series of energy readings stabilize on his console.
"Subject has reduced his output," he reported. "Possible awareness of surveillance."
A second officer leaned over the display.
"Continue mapping. Prioritize the Kai companion's energy signature and the barrier's divine component."
The first officer hesitated.
"Sir, if the subject attacks"
"Then we record the attack."
The officer swallowed.
"And if he destroys the fleet?"
The commander looked toward the viewing window.
"Then we will have learned something important before we die."
The fleet's instruments continued scanning.
But as the silver lines spread across the barrier, a second signal entered their detection range.
A small vessel.
Fast.
Unregistered.
Approaching from the outer edge of the system.
The officer frowned.
"Unknown contact entering the patrol zone."
"Imperial vessel?"
"No identification. Minimal power signature."
"Order it to stand down."
The communication signal went unanswered.
The unknown vessel continued toward Namek.
On its bridge, the masked warrior stared at the ring of black ships surrounding the green planet.
His hands tightened around the controls.
He had expected Frieza's forces.
He had not expected an entire fleet designed to contain whatever waited beyond the barrier.
The warrior's toxic-green aura began to flicker.
For a moment, he considered turning away.
He had survived by knowing when to fight, when to retreat, and when to disappear before the empire could close its jaws around him. There was no reason to charge directly into a situation he did not understand.
No reason at all.
Then the intercepted transmission played again in his memory.
Unidentified Saiyan-class combatant.
Supreme Kai companion.
Planetary barrier breached.
He leaned forward.
"Not this time."
The ship accelerated.
Inside the lead imperial vessel, alarms erupted.
"Contact is accelerating!"
"Identify it!"
"We can't! The power signature is fluctuating"
A green flash swallowed the viewing window.
The masked warrior struck the outer hull like a living missile.
Metal folded inward.
The ship's alarms screamed as he tore through the vessel's armor and emerged inside the forward command deck, surrounded by smoke and fragments of shattered machinery.
Imperial soldiers raised their weapons.
He looked at them through the narrow slits of his mask.
Then he moved.
The first soldier vanished beneath a sweeping strike. The second was hurled through the command console. A third fired at point-blank range, only for the blast to scatter harmlessly across the warrior's aura.
He grabbed the weapon, crushed it in one hand, and flung the soldier aside.
Within seconds, the command deck was silent.
The masked warrior turned toward the main console.
A display showed Namek's barrier, covered in the silver markings of the suppression network.
He stared at it.
Then he saw something else.
A reading.
A massive, ancient energy signature that had been recorded only briefly during the earlier confrontation.
The Saiyan.
The warrior's breathing became ragged.
His aura flared, filling the command deck with a poisonous green light.
"There you are."
Outside, the remaining imperial ships began rotating their weapons toward the damaged vessel.
He ignored them.
He had come to Namek looking for a stranger.
Now he had found the first obstacle between himself and that stranger.
And for the first time in years, the masked warrior smiled beneath his mask.