On Earth…
The wind blew with an unnatural chill across the devastated plain.
The sky, still gray from suspended dust, was slowly starting to clear, but no ray of sunlight could penetrate the sorrow hanging over the survivors.
Bulma, kneeling beside Goku's motionless body, had red-rimmed eyes. She was still holding Gohan in her arms. The little boy breathed with difficulty—unconscious, exhausted, scratched, sweaty, and covered in dust.
A few meters away, Krillin didn't take his eyes off Raditz's corpse. The invader's last sentence still rang in his ears like a curse:
"In a year… two more Saiyans will arrive."
He swallowed. His voice trembled.
"D-did he say… two? Two more like him…? Stronger…?"
The air seemed to grow colder.
Bulma looked at him, her face pale.
"Stronger…? How is that possible?" she whispered. "Raditz was already a monster! Goku had to sacrifice himself to beat him!"
Krillin nodded slowly, eyes fixed on the cracked earth.
"Yeah… and those two… if their power levels are higher…"
He had no words left.
Fear began to crawl through him like a disease.
Then a dark presence made itself felt.
Piccolo, standing, hadn't moved since firing the Special Beam Cannon. His arm still hung sorely by his side, and his gaze was fixed on the horizon—not out of distraction, but because he was processing.
Thinking.
Sensing.
Feeling something… troublesome.
He closed his eyes and frowned.
Bulma noticed. She took a step toward him, Gohan still in her arms.
"What is it now?" she asked, voice tense. "Can you still sense something?"
Piccolo pressed his lips together.
"Hmph… Goku's body…"
Krillin immediately looked where Goku had been.
Empty.
"What!?" he shouted, spinning around. "W-where is it?"
Bulma looked too.
The rock still showed the exact spot where his body should have been.
But he was no longer there.
Only emptiness.
And a sepulchral silence.
Krillin took a step back.
"W-was it… stolen?! Was the body…?!"
Piccolo closed his eyes and sighed, annoyed.
"Tch. No."
Bulma looked at him, confused.
"So what happened?"
Piccolo turned slowly toward them.
"Kami."
Krillin frowned.
"The… God of the Earth?"
Piccolo nodded, though he seemed irritated having to say that name.
"I felt his ki… weak, distant. But unmistakable. He took it."
Bulma stared at him in disbelief.
"But why? What does he want with Goku?"
Piccolo lowered his gaze, as if he already knew the answer… but refused to share it.
"That doesn't matter right now."
He turned…and walked toward Bulma.
She noticed. She took a step back.
"W-what are you doing?"
Piccolo raised his arms.
And he took Gohan.
Firmly.
The boy barely moved, his head resting on the Namekian's shoulder. He breathed with difficulty. His little fingers trembled.
Bulma stared, petrified.
Then she reacted.
"HEY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! LET HIM GO!"
She stepped toward Piccolo, trying to snatch the child.
But Piccolo didn't flinch.
He simply looked at her, his yellow eyes shining beneath his furrowed brow.
And he spoke.
"I'm taking him."
Krillin went cold.
"W-what!?"
Bulma raised a hand defiantly, though it trembled.
"Are you crazy?! Gohan is an orphan now! Chi-Chi's been dead for years, and now she also loses Goku! He has no one else! I… I will take care of him! You can't just take him like he's an object!"
Piccolo didn't blink.
"You have no idea of the power inside this child."
"He's a child!" Bulma shouted. "Not a tool!"
"Exactly because he's a child," Piccolo shot back, in a gravelly voice like a distant thunder, "he doesn't know what's inside him."
Bulma furrowed her brow, wounded.
Piccolo looked at Gohan. His expression softened slightly—less hardness. Almost… respect.
"When he woke… his ki was higher than Goku's. Higher than mine. Higher than that Saiyan's…"
"But it was unstable. Chaotic."
"Pure emotion, without control."
Krillin swallowed.
"You want… to train him?"
Piccolo nodded.
"In a year those monsters will come."
"And if we want to have even a minimal chance… this child needs to learn to fight. To control what's inside him."
Bulma shook her head.
"You can't do that! Goku would never have allowed—!"
Piccolo turned slowly toward her.
"And what would you do? Teach him science while the planet burns?"
Bulma recoiled, hurt.
"I…"
"Goku died for him," Piccolo continued, not raising his voice but speaking with force. "He would understand. If this child is the key to preventing this from happening again… then I will teach him what no one else can."
Krillin lowered his gaze. He knew that deep down Piccolo was right.
Bulma lowered her arms but didn't take her eyes off Gohan. Her voice dropped.
"And… what will you do with him?"
Piccolo didn't answer at once. He looked toward the horizon.
"I'll train him. Where no one can find us. Where he can grow without distractions. Where he can confront what he carries inside."
Bulma gritted her teeth.
"What if he cries for his father? What if he's afraid? What if he doesn't understand why his life suddenly changed?"
Piccolo closed his eyes for a moment.
"Then… I will make him stronger."
"And if he hates me for it… let him hate me."
"But he will survive."
—
And without saying more…
Piccolo rose into the air with Gohan in his arms. His cape billowed like torn flags. The wind swirled around them.
Bulma raised a hand, but didn't shout. She only watched him go.
Krillin approached her silently.
"Maybe… maybe Piccolo is the only one who can do it," he said softly.
Bulma didn't answer. She only looked at the sky.
Where a green figure receded, carrying the world's last hope in his arms.
—
Another world
A soft hum, like the whisper of an ancient wind, floated in the air.
Goku opened his eyes slowly. He blinked—several times. His eyelashes were coated with dust.
The light surrounding him was gentle, pale, like dawn mist… but without the sun.
Before him, a cloudless sky.
Beneath his feet… a polished floor of white stone, almost luminous. He stood on a large circular platform floating in nothingness.
And beside him…
"Ah, you're finally awake."
Goku jerked around.
A tall, thin man with green skin and a long white robe looked at him solemnly.
Kami.
His expression was calm. Almost solemn.
Goku recognized him at once…but something was off.
"Kami…? Where am I…?"
He put a hand to his head, feeling something strange.
And he noticed it.
The halo.
"Wha?! What's this!?" he cried, touching it with both hands. "Did… a plate grow on my head!?"
Kami closed his eyes and nodded slowly.
"No, Goku. That… is a spiritual halo."
Goku blinked.
"Eh…?"
Kami sighed softly.
"It means… you are dead."
Silence.
Goku froze. Then he bowed his head.
"Ah… of course."
He stayed like that, still for a few seconds. No drama. No tears. He only let the words echo in his mind.
"I guess… you can't get out of that without paying a price, huh?"
Kami watched him with a neutral but serene look.
"Not many accept their death so calmly."
Goku chuckled a little, sadness in his eyes.
"This is the first time I've died. It's different from what I expected."
Then he raised his head. His expression changed.
"Gohan!? Is he okay?" he asked abruptly.
Kami nodded slowly.
"Yes. He's alive."
Goku let out a breath.
"Whew… thank you…"
But Kami added:
"Although… Piccolo has taken him."
"WHAT!?"
Goku stepped back, confused.
"Piccolo took him? Why would he take him? What will he do to him!?"
Kami narrowed his eyes and folded his arms.
"I don't know for sure. I only felt his ki. But it wasn't hostile. Most likely… he saw the same power you saw in your son."
Goku lowered his head for a moment, frowning.
"Hmph… yeah. Piccolo isn't a saint… But if anyone can train him, it's him. I'd rather he be with Bulma. With someone who can care for him… but…"
He closed his eyes. His fists tightened slightly.
"Gohan has a power he doesn't even understand. And if Piccolo can help him discover it… then I won't complain."
Kami nodded with respect.
"Your son has a unique destiny. And perhaps… it's what the world needs more than you."
Goku raised an eyebrow.
"Was that a compliment… or a hint?"
Kami smiled.
"Both."
Silence. The wind still blew—but it was no longer cold. It felt light, charged with something invisible, as if the air itself vibrated with spiritual energy.
Goku looked around.
"So… am I in heaven?"
"No," Kami replied. "You're in an intermediate plane. The path from here may lead you to peaceful rest or to hell, depending on your actions."
"What matters now… is that I've secured permission for you to keep your body, even though you're dead."
Goku blinked.
"Seriously!? That's possible!?"
"Only in exceptional cases. Your sacrifice… your heart… your connection to this world… moved the great Enma Daioh."
Goku's mouth opened in surprise.
"Enma—Who?"
"The judge here—he's the one who decides destinies after death," Kami nodded. "But that wasn't the only reason. Also… because you have training pending."
Goku leaned in, curious.
"Training?"
Kami turned slowly. Behind him, a giant white door opened as if it had been waiting.
"I've arranged for you to train with one of the greatest masters of the other world."
"His name is… King Kai."
Goku cocked his head.
"King what…?"
Kami turned with a faint, amused sigh.
"King Kai. An ancient god. A master of power, wisdom… and questionable humor."
"He lives at the end of the Snake Way."
Goku raised an eyebrow and folded his arms.
"How do you get to him?"
Kami extended his hand. The door's light brightened. Then he saw it.
A huge stone serpent, endlessly long, curving and winding into infinity.
It floated in the void, suspended above a bottomless sea of clouds.
The Snake Way.
Goku's eyes widened in amazement.
"That is the way!? You have to travel ALL of that!?"
Kami nodded.
"Yes. There's no other way to reach him. But if you make it… Kaio-sama can teach you techniques that even the Earth's gods don't master. And with his guidance… perhaps you'll be strong enough to face what's coming."
Goku swallowed.
Kami continued.
"Your brother mentioned two more are coming. Stronger than he was… and they'll arrive in a year. Not more, not less."
Goku looked at the path again. Then he crouched, tied his belt firmly, adjusted his boots.
And he smiled.
"So… what are we waiting for?"
He stepped forward and placed himself at the start's edge. Ahead of him, the golden serpent rippled like a legendary creature.
"King Kai… here I come," he said with a confident grin.
"WAAAAAHOOOOOO!"
And without another thought…
Goku ran. His footsteps echoed along the floating path. The spiritual sky opened before him like a sea of possibilities.
Behind him… Kami watched, wearing a calm smile but filled with concern.
"Good luck, Goku…"
"You're going to need it more than ever."
—
Meanwhile… somewhere in the cold reaches of space…
The universe's blackness wrapped everything. Distant stars twinkled like embers in the dark. Nebulae, comets, and remnants of extinct civilizations drifted silently among the rings of oblivion.
And in the middle of that infinite void…
Two battle pods floated side by side.
They were metallic spheres, marked with Saiyan insignias and battle scars. Both hovered in automatic positioning mode, spinning slowly through space as if seeking the destination they'd just set.
Inside the larger pod…
"Ready!" boomed a deep, thunderous voice. "Coordinates entered. Planet 4032-2778. Alias… Earth."
Nappa.
The bald colossus with a thick mustache gripped the controls with thick, calloused hands. His tracker's visor flickered, confirming the trajectory.
"A year in cryosleep. I can almost taste the fight," he grunted, wearing a predatory grin.
He turned slightly, looking toward the other pod connected through internal comms.
"Ready, Your Highness?"
—
Inside the other pod, more compact but perfectly outfitted, a female figure settled in slowly.
Her eyes were sharp, dark, like they swallowed the light. Her hair was straight and wild, falling to her shoulders. Her skin had the sun-browned tone of a warrior raised under harsh suns. Wrapped around her waist… a Saiyan tail, alive and twitching.
Vegetta.
The princess of the Saiyan race. The last noble bearer of a crown forged not from jewels but from blood, fire… and expectation.
She sat in her pod, adjusting the final commands on her holographic panel. Her boots touched the curved floor with precision; her expression was calm. Almost bored.
But her eyes never stopped shining.
"Nappa," she replied, her voice elegant and lethal. "Remember what I told you before you went into hibernation."
Nappa snorted.
"About not destroying the planet until we collect the Dragon Balls? I got it. I'm not an idiot."
Vegetta arched an eyebrow.
"You say that… and yet, on three missions you almost exterminated the princess of the Horvax system because you made fun of her mustache."
Nappa scratched his neck unabashedly.
"It was a ridiculous mustache!"
"Exactly like your judgment."
Vegetta pressed a button. The interface lit up and displayed the silhouette of planet Earth—its solar system, rotation, moons, atmospheric shield.
"Remember our objective," she added with disdain. "Find the Dragon Balls. If the Earthlings don't cooperate, annihilate them."
Nappa snorted, folding his arms.
"Yeah, I figured… but we could at least think about reviving Raditz with those magical balls."
Vegetta burst into a dry, scornful laugh.
"I already told you, idiot—we won't waste a wish on nonsense like that."
She shook her head; her tail tapped the seat like a restless serpent.
"We have the chance to ask for anything. Immortality. Unlimited power. And you want that crying primate back?"
Nappa growled but didn't reply.
Vegetta smiled.
"No. We're not wasting this opportunity."
Then… she fell silent, staring at the screen. Floating there like a distant fate was Earth. An insignificant planet. Blue. Warm. Inhabited by insects.
But also by something else.
Vegetta squinted.
"There's something on that planet… that interests me more than the Dragon Balls," she murmured.
Nappa arched an eyebrow.
"What? The weather? The food?"
Vegetta ignored the joke.
"Kakarot' son."
Nappa frowned.
"Eh? That brat Raditz mentioned before he died?"
"Yes."
Her eyes narrowed further.
"Raditz's tracker signals showed that his power spiked above 2000 units for a moment. That… isn't natural."
Silence.
"A child with that power is an anomaly. A genetic mix never seen before."
"If that power is real… we could raise him. Train him. Use him."
"Or… eliminate him before he becomes a threat."
Nappa settled back in his pod.
"So… sleep?"
"Yes."
Vegetta took a deep breath. Just as the cryogenic system's low hum began, a small image popped up on her screen.
An old file.
A genetic record.
She had kept it.
A low-resolution photograph.
A baby. An incubation chamber. A little girl of about five, with long hair and proud eyes, watching from outside.
It was her. Vegetta, the princess, in her elite uniform with her tail wrapped around her waist, walking among the incubation chambers on Planet Vegeta.
She remembered that day clearly. Her father, King Vegeta III, had taken her to see their "future subjects." Dozens of Saiyan infants floated in life-fluid capsules. Most with low power—numbers, not names.
But one…
One caught her attention.
A small pod, almost forgotten in the corner. Power level: 2.
Pathetic. Insignificant.
Yet something in his face as he slept—something in his dimmed energy—made her stop.
She still remembered him.
Kakarot.
The princess pursed her lips, still gazing at the image.
"A pathetic power… but a look that drew my attention."
"You were born a waste, Kakarot. And yet, you survived. You betrayed your mission."
"And now… you've left a son who could break Saiyan logic's limits."
Her smile widened—a mix of twisted pride and genuine curiosity.
"What kind of power is that you've left on Earth?"
With that question in her mind… the cryo system's whisper wrapped around her. Sleep began to take her.
But a smile still lit her face.
"Kakarot…"
"Let's see how far your legacy goes."
—
Both Saiyan pods streaked away at subspace speed. On the starmap they were only two lost dots in a sea of light.
But they carried a storm.
One the Earth was not prepared to face.
—
One year.
That was the margin.
One year to prepare.
One year before the roar of the Saiyans crossed the skies again.
But this time… with a princess at the lead.
And she… wasn't going to negotiate.