Southern Desert. Day 100 since Goku's death.
Dawn broke across the sky in orange and pink streaks, painting the clouds with soft fire as the wind blew cold from the mountains.
The desert was no longer so strange to Gohan.
The dunes, the cracks, the rocky formations… all those things that once spelled desolation on his first day were now familiar.
The boy—barely four and a half years old—walked steadily through a rocky canyon. His clothes were worn, torn in places. His cap was no longer on his head but tied to his belt, a treasure he refused to lose. His face still held traces of childhood, but now there was something different.
Determination.
Gohan climbed a tall rock with agility and crouched down. From that height, his gaze swept across the horizon patiently.
He waited.
He listened.
He sniffed the air.
And then… he heard it.
A faint tremor in the ground. A distant rumble, barely audible.
He smiled slightly.
"There it is…" he whispered, lowering his ki to the bare minimum, just as he had learned to do after many failed attempts.
He slid down the rock and hid behind a patch of dry shrubs, his breathing steady.
And there it was.
A short-necked dinosaur, thick and scaly, its small eyes scanning the rocks as it lumbered forward in search of water. It was nearly ten meters long, and each step made the nearby stones tremble. Its tongue flicked out slowly, tasting the air.
Gohan tensed.
He prepared himself.
Not as a trained warrior.
But as a child who had learned to hunt… or starve.
The dinosaur stopped.
Gohan took his chance.
"YAAAAAAAH!" he yelled, leaping from the top of a boulder, arms raised.
A flicker of ki flared around his body.
BAM!
He landed on the beast's back. It roared furiously, thrashing, but Gohan didn't fall. Using his small weight for leverage, he jumped toward its neck and struck hard at the base of the skull. Not enough to kill it… but enough to stun it.
"I'm sorry! But I have to eat!" he cried, eyes squeezed shut, then channeled ki into his right hand.
A small orb of light formed.
"HAAAH!" he shouted, firing it precisely into the dinosaur's neck.
BOOM!
The creature crashed to the ground with a muffled roar, sending up a cloud of dust and sand.
Gohan landed beside it, panting.
"I did it… again."
Without wasting a second, he began gathering dry branches to start a fire.
⸻
High above… on a rocky cliff hidden among low clouds… Piccolo watched.
Standing tall, arms crossed, his cape billowing in the dawn wind, the Namekian hadn't taken his eyes off Gohan for a single second.
And for the first time in weeks… his brow lifted slightly. One lone eyebrow. An expression hard to read.
Surprise.
"He caught it… without hesitation," he muttered.
He closed his eyes briefly, sensing the boy's ki.
It wasn't just strong.
It was stable.
Controlled.
Focused.
And his power was increasing fast.
"That blast… was cleaner than half the shots Raditz ever threw," he grumbled, a mix of cynicism and respect in his tone.
He crouched on the rock, one elbow resting on his knee, still watching.
Gohan was now cooking—lighting a campfire using a method that probably came from his father.
"Hmph… of course. Goku raised him in the mountains," he murmured, as though realizing it just now. "He must've taught him the basics—fishing, fire-making, listening to the wild…"
A city kid wouldn't have lasted a week out here.
But Gohan…
Gohan was thriving.
"Am I wasting time letting him fend for himself this long?" Piccolo thought, stroking his chin. "At this rate… he won't need six months to be ready."
He fell silent for a while.
The campfire flickered in the distance. Gohan was cutting strips of meat and hanging them on branches to cook evenly.
He'd even improvised a small storage setup with dry leaves and flat stones.
Piccolo clenched his jaw, uneasy.
"Am I… underestimating this kid?"
The question bothered him more than he liked to admit.
⸻
Later that day. Noon.
Gohan sat in the shade of a large rock, eating calmly.
The wind carried the scent of roasted meat. Though dirty and disheveled, the boy's eyes were bright and alert. He no longer stared at the sky crying for his father. He no longer feared every shadow.
He had learned to live.
And that… hadn't gone unnoticed.
"It's time," Piccolo said to himself, rising slowly. "If he keeps improving like this… I'll lose valuable training time."
He vanished in a flash.
⸻
Minutes later—
"AAAAAAAH! AAAAAAAHHHH!" Gohan screamed, running for his life.
Behind him, a gigantic boulder—one that hadn't been there before—was floating, chasing him as if it were alive.
"WHAT IS THIS?! MAGIC?!" The boy yelled, dodging cacti and leaping over cracks.
From above, Piccolo descended slowly, a faint smirk on his face.
"Come on… scared of a rock?"
With a snap of his fingers, the floating boulder stopped—then dropped.
KABOOM!
Gohan fell on his backside, gasping. Then he looked up… and saw him.
Piccolo landed in front of him, towering, arms crossed. His shadow covered the boy completely.
"It's been over three months.
And it seems someone's starting to understand how this world works."
Gohan gulped.
"Y-you did that…? The rock?"
Piccolo didn't answer directly. He only stared.
Then, raising one hand, he fired a tiny ki blast that split a stone twenty meters away clean in half.
"It's time.
Your real training begins."
Gohan slowly stood up.
His fear was still there… but smaller. His hands trembled… but he didn't step back.
"T-t-training…? What kind of training?"
Piccolo's expression hardened.
"One that's not a game.
You'll run until you can't breathe.
You'll climb cliffs with one hand.
You'll dodge attacks without using your ki.
And when you're about to collapse…"
"…you'll keep going."
Gohan went pale.
"B-b-but—!"
"You're Goku's son," Piccolo cut him off sharply. "And what you carry inside… isn't from an ordinary child."
He turned away.
"Start now. If I don't see you at the top of that mountain before sunset…" —he pointed to a towering 200-meter rock formation— "you don't eat tonight."
And with that, he took off.
Gohan stood still.
Then he looked up at the mountain.
He sighed.
"Dad… I hope you're watching this…" he murmured.
And started to run.
⸻
From afar, Piccolo watched.
Part of him… didn't understand why he kept watching.
The other part—the one still learning what a human heart truly was—had begun to accept an uncomfortable possibility.
He cared.
Not because he was weak.
Not because he was soft.
But because… the boy was promising.
A living promise.
Goku's legacy.
"You've grown more than I expected, kid," he said quietly.
"And I swear… I won't let that power go to waste."
With that silent vow, the true training began.
—
Deep Space. Day 102 since Goku's death.
Two Saiyan battle pods streaked through the universe at subspace speed.
They were black steel spheres, armored in Saiyan alloy, marked with the scars of ancient conquests. They glowed faintly in the light of a distant star, cutting through the void like the projectiles of a war god.
In one of them, Nappa slept in cryogenic suspension, his face peaceful for the first time in years. His massive body barely moved, wrapped in stabilization fields.
And in the other…
Silence reigned.
A sacred, deliberate silence.
Inside that sleeker, customized pod, Princess Vegetta floated motionless, suspended in a deep artificial sleep.
Her body drifted gracefully within the stasis fluid, a faint red glow illuminating her sharp face. Her royal armor still bore the proud crest of the Vegeta bloodline, and her Saiyan tail, wrapped tightly around her waist, rested like a sleeping serpent.
Her body rested…
But her mind did not.
And deep within her subconscious… the past came alive.
⸻
More than two decades ago. Planet Vegeta. The Day of Royal Training.
The training arena blazed beneath a crimson sun. The distant mountains were black blades etched against a violet sky.
At the center of the dome, a group of Saibamen screeched in agony as they were mercilessly torn apart.
A small, fierce figure moved among them with surgical precision.
Vegetta.
She was six years old. Her wild hair spiked upward, slightly shorter than it would someday be. Her face already bore the arrogance that would make her feared. She wore a Saiyan armor with scarlet trims—an exclusive royal design.
She leapt onto a Saibaman, grabbed its skull, and slammed it into the ground until it burst in a hiss of acid.
Another lunged. She spun midair, fired a ki blast with one hand, and reduced it to green smoke with absolute accuracy.
One more tried to bite her.
She split it in half with a single, energy-charged strike.
When the dust settled, every Saibaman lay in pieces.
She barely panted.
"Hmph… trash," she spat, crossing her arms.
The dome doors opened. A tall warrior entered—elite armor, thick black hair slicked back.
Nappa.
Back then, he still had hair—though the same square, proud face.
"Magnificent, Your Highness!" he roared with a wide grin. "You tore those pests apart like wet paper!"
Vegetta glanced at him coldly.
"If that was supposed to be a test, it was insulting."
Nappa laughed heartily.
"Exactly! Which makes it even more impressive!"
He stepped closer and bowed slightly—not in reverence, but in respect.
"The King will be pleased. The strategy chamber already logged your results. Nearly five thousand power level… and you're only six."
Vegetta turned away. Her tail flicked in disdain.
"Numbers are irrelevant. Power only matters if you use it without hesitation."
She walked down the long, cold corridor of the training complex. The walls were decorated with sculptures of great conquests and star maps. The air smelled of sweat, gunpowder… and pride.
As she passed an intersection, she stopped.
A familiar hum filled the air.
The incubation chamber.
Vegetta turned and entered.
Inside, dozens of pods floated in amniotic fluid. Each held a Saiyan infant. Some slept. Others kicked impatiently, tiny warriors in the making.
Their scouters displayed power levels at birth.
Vegetta walked past several pods. The numbers flickered: 100… 120… 180…
Mid-class.
Farther back, the numbers dropped: 2, 3, 5…
The rejects.
And there…
She stopped.
The space where one particular pod had been… was empty.
Only the base remained, marked with a serial number:
#L-312.
Vegetta raised an eyebrow.
She remembered that number.
It had stuck in her mind, somehow.
"Hmm…?" She glanced around. "Gone?"
She stepped to the control panel and tapped a few buttons. The monitor displayed:
Subject removed from automated growth program. Parents reclaimed the infant for off-world mission.
Destination: Low-ranking planet.
Vegetta tilted her head.
"Reclaimed? Why would two low-class Saiyans want a baby with a power level of… 2?"
She stood there for a moment.
Uneasy.
Annoyed.
Intrigued.
She remembered clearly the day she'd first seen him.
A calm-faced baby. Asleep. Nothing remarkable about him… and yet…
"Of course!" King Kai chuckled. "On this planet, everything begins with a smile!"
"But before I train you, I have to make sure you possess the most important thing of all."
Goku straightened up, as best he could under the crushing gravity.
"Strength?!"
"No!"
"Speed?"
"No!"
"Food?"
"Well… also," King Kai giggled. "But no. I mean… a sense of humor!"
Goku blinked. "Huh?"
King Kai pointed dramatically.
"If you want to be my student, you must first pass my ultimate test!"
Silence fell.
The wind blew softly.
Bubbles dropped a banana peel.
Goku swallowed hard.
"What test?"
King Kai adjusted his glasses, lifting one finger with solemn grace.
"You must tell me… a joke."
"…What?"
"A joke!" King Kai repeated. "One that makes me really laugh. If you can't make me laugh… no training. Those are the rules here. Humor first, power later!"
Goku stood still.
"Seriously?"
"Very seriously," King Kai nodded. "Humor reflects the soul. If you can make a Kai laugh…you're ready to learn what no one else can."
Goku scratched his head.
"Mmm… I'm not very good with jokes…"
King Kai floated closer. "That makes it even better."
Goku closed his eyes, thinking.
He remembered one Master Roshi used to tell after a few drinks. Maybe…
"I got one!"
King Kai leaned forward, expectant.
Goku cleared his throat, stood tall, and with total seriousness said:
"What did one tomato say to the other tomato?"
King Kai raised an eyebrow.
"…What?"
Goku grinned.
"Catch up—or we'll get squashed!"
…
Silence.
The wind blew again.
Bubbles looked at King Kai.
And then—
King Kai burst out laughing.
"HA HA HA HA! THAT'S AWFUL! IT'S SO BAD IT'S GOOD!"
He floated in circles, clutching his belly.
"It's terrible! HA HA HA! What a horrible joke! I love it!"
Goku laughed too, though a bit confused.
"So… I passed?"
King Kai wiped tears from behind his glasses.
"With honors, my boy! It takes real courage to tell such a terrible joke with a straight face!"
He extended his hand.
"Welcome, Goku. From today on… your real training begins."
And at that moment, Goku felt something shift in the air.
The planet was still small.
But it didn't feel as heavy anymore.
Or maybe…
He was just starting to get used to it.