CHAPTER 21: MIRROR REMATCH

Turles’s aura crackled with raw power, the energy of the Tree of Might surging through his veins. The ground beneath his feet trembled, and the air itself seemed to grow thick with an almost tangible pressure. The faint glow of the tree intensified, its bark pulsing with energy in rhythm with Turles’s newfound strength.

Across from him, Goku’s own aura flared, glowing blue as his Super Saiyan Blue form enveloped him. His energy radiated outward, an intense, divine light that seemed to push back against Turles’s overwhelming presence. But even with all his power, Goku could feel the weight of Turles’s transformation. This wasn’t just another fight; this was a battle that would determine the fate of everything around them.

Without hesitation, Turles launched himself at Goku, his fists moving with a frightening speed. The first punch collided with Goku’s guard, sending shockwaves that rattled the very earth beneath them. The impact was so powerful that the surrounding trees and rocks were shattered into dust.

Goku grunted under the force but quickly adjusted his stance, using his speed to duck and weave. He countered with a series of precise jabs, his movements fluid and calculated. His years of training under Whis were on full display as he anticipated Turles’s wild strikes, narrowly dodging a crushing blow aimed at his head.

Turles snarled, his eyes blazing with newfound fury. He launched another barrage of chaotic punches, each one heavier than the last, pushing Goku back with every blow. His movements were reckless, driven by the intoxicating power of the fruit, but there was something terrifyingly unstoppable about his raw might.

Goku, maintaining his composure, spun around, dodging the wild swings and delivering swift counters to Turles’s exposed sides. He was quick—too quick for Turles’s feral onslaught—but the power Turles possessed was like a tidal wave, relentless and overwhelming.

Then, in a sudden burst of energy, Goku leaped backward, creating distance between them. His hands came together in front of him as he prepared his most powerful move—the Kamehameha. The energy gathered in his palms, the blue light growing in intensity as it crackled and hummed. With a yell, he fired the blast directly at Turles, the energy beam rocketing toward him with terrifying speed.

But Turles’s eyes flared with golden intensity as he raised his hand. In an almost casual manner, he blocked the Kamehameha with a single palm, the energy dissipating in a burst of sparks. Goku’s eyes widened. This was not the reaction he had anticipated. The fruit’s power had amplified Turles beyond anything he had ever experienced.

With a guttural roar, Turles surged forward, closing the gap between them faster than Goku could react. A wild, chaotic fist slammed into Goku’s chest, sending him flying into the dirt with bone-crushing force. The impact left a crater in the ground, dust and debris flying in all directions.

Before Goku could even gather his bearings, Turles hovered above him, his hands crackling with dark, raw energy. A blast of black ki exploded from his hands, slamming into Goku’s body like a freight train. The force of the attack left Goku battered and bloodied, his body collapsing into the earth.

The Saiyan’s breath came in ragged gasps as he struggled to rise, his vision spinning. He pushed himself up, only to see Turles already charging toward him once more, moving faster than ever before. Goku barely had time to react as Turles’s fist collided with his chest with a sickening thud. The impact sent him crashing to the ground again, pain shooting through his entire body.

Goku lay there, barely conscious, his limbs heavy and unresponsive. Every inch of him screamed in agony. Turles stood over him, his aura burning bright as he looked down with cold, calculated eyes.

“You’re out of your league, Kakarot,” Turles said, his voice low, a cruel edge to it. “This is the power I’ve been waiting for.”

Without another word, Turles turned to Avoca, who stood at a distance, watching silently. “Prepare the next phase,” Turles ordered, his voice cold and commanding. “It’s time to take what’s rightfully ours.”

As Turles walked away, Goku remained motionless, his body barely clinging to consciousness. His chest rose and fell with shallow breaths as the radiant glow of the Tree of Might pulsed behind him. The tree’s power surged, feeding off the destruction, and the air around the battlefield was thick with tension.

Turles’s figure disappeared into the shadows, his presence lingering in the air like a dark omen. The faint hum of the Tree of Might echoed ominously in the background, its power pulsing with an unnatural rhythm. Goku lay at the base of the tree, bloodied and broken, his body battered but his will unbroken. The fight was far from over.

___________

Writer’s Note:

That got intense! This fight between Goku and Turles was a deliberate callback to their original battle in Tree of Might, but this time, Goku is in Super Saiyan Blue. Now, before anyone questions how Goku could be bested or how Turles could hold his own, there are several factors at play.

First, Goku isn’t fighting at full strength. He just went through three back-to-back battles with the Crushers, leaving him worn down. Second, Turles now has the power of the Tree of Might flowing through him, amplifying his strength and abilities far beyond their previous encounter.

Back in Chapter 8, Goku realized Turles had been holding back during their fight—even without taking a bite of the fruit. Now, imagine Turles going all-out, fully powered by the Tree of Might, and driven by an unwavering determination to reach his goal. It’s not the kind of fight Goku can win easily, even in Blue.

With Part 1 of the story coming to a close, there’s still so much more to come. The stage is set for bigger challenges, deeper conflicts, and even greater stakes. Stay tuned for Part 2: Ascension!

CHAPTER 20: DUALITY

The air in the Saiyan archives was thick with tension, the dim lighting casting eerie shadows over the ancient scrolls and relics that lined the walls. Turles stood tall, his dark eyes locked on Goku, who stood firm in the center of the chamber. The Crusher Corps flanked their leader, their rigid stances betraying flickers of unease despite their unwavering loyalty.

Goku’s gaze swept over the room briefly, taking in the strange devices and artifacts imbued with the legacy of their shared Saiyan heritage. But his focus always returned to the warriors blocking his path, each of them poised to strike at Turles’s command.

Turles smirked, though there was a tinge of frustration in his expression. “Kakarot, it doesn’t need to be this way,” he said, his tone carrying an uncharacteristic mix of exasperation and conviction. “You don’t understand what I’m trying to achieve. Together, we could rebuild what was lost. Do you really want to stand in the way of that?”

Goku frowned, his arms folding across his chest. “What you’re doing… it’s not right. You think tearing down everything around you is the way to rebuild? That’s not how it works, Turles. I’m not gonna let you hurt anyone else.”

Turles sighed, shaking his head. “You’ve seen what our people have suffered, and still, you refuse to see reason.” His expression hardened, and his voice dropped an octave, dangerous and commanding. “I was willing to give you a chance, but if you won’t help me…”

He raised his hand slightly, signaling the Crusher Corps. Their bodies tensed, energy flaring around them as they prepared to attack.

Goku’s eyes darted to the Crusher Corps, then back to Turles. He could feel the rising energy, the shift in the air as the moment of peace crumbled.

“Well,” Goku said with a smirk, raising one hand casually. “Guess that settles it.” A mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes.

Before anyone could react, a brilliant flash of light erupted from Goku’s hand.

“Solar Flare!” Goku shouted, vanishing in an instant as the radiance consumed the room.

The Crusher Corps and guards staggered back, shielding their eyes from the searing brightness.

Turles snarled, his voice booming against the ancient walls. As the light faded, his expression darkened, fury etched into every line of his face. “Don’t let him escape! Find him!”

Alarms blared across the palace, bathing the labyrinthine corridors in flashing crimson light. Guards poured in from adjacent chambers, scouters beeping frantically as they scrambled to locate their target.

***

Goku bolted through the winding halls of the palace, his mind racing as fast as his feet. "I’ve gotta get to that tree,” he muttered under his breath. “If I can destroy it, this whole thing falls apart."

His senses flared, picking up energy signatures closing in from all sides. The palace was a labyrinth of towering stone walls and intricate carvings, each turn leading to another hallway or chamber. Goku cursed under his breath when he hit a dead end, forcing him to double back.

Behind him, he heard the Crusher Corps rallying the guards. Amond’s deep voice boomed, “Spread out! He couldn’t have gotten far!”

In an instant, Goku vanished, teleporting to a higher vantage point on a balcony overlooking the central hall. From there, he spotted patrols pouring in from multiple entryways, their scouters lighting up as they scanned for his ki.

“Smart,” Goku whispered to himself. “But not smart enough.”

He took a deep breath, suppressing his energy until it was nearly undetectable. The scouters flickered and beeped faintly, but no solid readings appeared.

“Where is he?!” Daiz growled, his eyes scanning the upper levels.

Goku crouched low, blending into the shadows of the balcony as guards stormed past below. The flashing red lights painted the walls in ominous streaks, the sound of boots pounding against the stone reverberating through the air.

As Goku leapt silently across a gap between balconies, a guard turned at the last moment, spotting movement in his peripheral vision.

“There!” the guard shouted, firing a barrage of energy blasts toward Goku’s position.

Goku ducked and rolled, the blasts ripping through the stone railing behind him. “Tch, almost got me there,” he muttered, sprinting forward.

He vaulted over a ledge, landing in a lower hallway where more guards appeared. Their scouters beeped faintly, struggling to lock onto his faint energy signature.

“Fan out!” one of them barked.

Goku darted into a side corridor, using a quick burst of Instant Transmission to reappear several halls away. He kept his ki masked, his breathing steady despite the pounding of his heart.

Up ahead, Goku caught sight of a massive exit, its towering doors bathed in the pulsing glow of crimson emergency lights. Relief flickered across his face, but before he could reach it, a familiar voice stopped him cold.

“Stop right there, Kakarot.”

Goku turned to see Rasin and Lakasei stepping out from the shadows, their energy flaring faintly as they blocked his path. Unlike before, there was no arrogance in their expressions—only a grim resolve.

“Turles doesn’t want this to escalate,” Rasin said, his tone firm but carrying an edge of hesitation. “Come quietly, and no one has to get hurt.”

Lakasei’s eyes darted toward Goku, uncertainty flickering in his gaze before he masked it. “We don’t want to fight you, but we will if we have to.”

Goku’s stance shifted slightly, his brows furrowing. “I get it—you’re just following orders. But you both know this is wrong. Turles isn’t saving our race; he’s destroying everything in his path. You’ve seen what the Tree does to planets, to life itself. How can you stand by and let this happen?”

Rasin’s expression tightened, the weight of Goku’s words sinking in, but he shook his head. “It’s not that simple. Turles has a vision—a way to rebuild what we’ve lost. If that means sacrifices, then... then maybe it’s what we have to do.”

Lakasei stepped forward, his voice lowering. “You wouldn’t understand. You’ve never lived like we have. You’ve never known what it’s like to hold on to the last thread of your people’s existence. Our king...he gave us hope.”

Goku’s voice rose, his frustration evident. “Hope? This isn’t hope—it’s destruction! What’s the point of rebuilding the Saiyan race if it costs countless innocent lives? You don’t have to do this. You can choose to walk away. I’m giving you that chance.”

The twins exchanged a brief glance, doubt flickering between them, but their resolve hardened as they turned back to Goku.

Lakasei raised his hands, his energy crackling faintly. “We’ve made our choice. Stand down, Kakarot. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

Rasin followed suit, his voice heavier this time. “Please, don’t force our hand.”

Goku sighed, his eyes narrowing. “I wish you could see what I’m trying to stop. But if you won’t listen...”

The twins lunged at him, their movements synchronized and precise. Goku responded instantly, slipping between them with fluid grace, his speed far outpacing their attacks. He didn’t strike back, instead leaping into the air and firing a controlled burst of energy at the ceiling above them.

The resulting explosion sent debris crashing down, blocking their path. Dust filled the corridor as Goku turned toward the exit.

“Sorry,” he said quietly, a flicker of regret in his tone. Then he bolted toward the towering doors, his resolve steeling with every step.

The final stretch of the palace grounds was teeming with guards. Towers overlooking the area lit up with searchlights that swept the grounds, and scouters buzzed with frantic activity as they attempted to pinpoint Goku’s location.

“There! He’s on the move!” shouted a voice from one of the towers.

Goku gritted his teeth, breaking into a full sprint as a barrage of energy blasts rained down around him. He zigzagged across the open space, his movements sharp and precise, evading the attacks with a grace that belied the tension of the moment. A blast grazed his shoulder, the heat searing through his gi, but he ignored the sting, focusing on the glowing horizon ahead.

Through the chaos, his eyes locked onto it—the Eternal Tree of Might. Even from a distance, its colossal form was unmistakable, its glowing bark emanating an oppressive energy that seemed to smother the very air around it.

“There it is,” Goku muttered, his resolve hardening as he adjusted his path.

Guards swarmed into his way, their weapons trained on him, but Goku’s instincts were razor-sharp. With a burst of speed, he ducked under one’s swing, deflected a ki blast with the back of his hand, and vaulted over another, twisting midair to avoid another barrage of attacks.

As the guards regrouped and prepared to strike again, Goku smirked. “Time to wrap this up.”

With a sharp intake of breath, he focused on the tree in the distance. In an instant, his form flickered and vanished from sight, leaving the guards behind in a flurry of confusion.

Goku reappeared at the base of the tree, the oppressive energy hitting him like a wave. He skidded to a halt, panting as his eyes traveled upward to take in its immense height and otherworldly glow. The bark pulsed with an eerie energy, alive with power that seemed to hum in his ears.

“All right,” he said, wiping the sweat from his brow as he steadied his breathing. “Let’s see if I can take you down.”

Planting his feet firmly into the ground, Goku raised his hands, blue energy crackling and growing between them as he prepared to unleash his attack. The oppressive energy of the tree loomed over him, but he pushed the weight from his mind, focusing entirely on his target.

“Let’s see how you handle this!” Goku shouted, thrusting his hands forward.

A massive beam of energy tore through the air, slamming directly into the tree’s glowing bark. The impact shook the ground beneath him, sending shockwaves rippling outward. But as the smoke cleared, Goku’s eyes widened in disbelief.

The tree stood unharmed. The glowing bark seemed to absorb the blast entirely, its surface rippling faintly before returning to its natural glow. The energy he’d unleashed dissipated as if it had never existed.

“What the—?!” Goku muttered, his jaw tightening. He quickly charged another attack, pouring more power into it this time.

“Kamehameha!” he roared, sending another devastating blast toward the tree. The beam collided with the bark, its power crackling and flaring outward, but once again, the tree absorbed it, the energy vanishing harmlessly into its surface.

Goku fired again. And again. Each time, the result was the same. The tree stood tall and unyielding, as though mocking his efforts.

“Damn it,” Goku hissed, beads of sweat forming on his brow as his breathing grew heavier. His hands dropped to his sides momentarily, frustration flickering across his face.

He was preparing to charge another blast when a sudden, sharp spike in energy sent a chill down his spine. Turning quickly, Goku saw familiar figures hovering above, their armor gleaming under the pale light of the moon.

The Crusher Corps.

They strode forward with purpose, their presence exuding an intimidating calm. Amond led the group, his massive frame casting a long shadow over the ground. His piercing gaze locked onto Goku, and for a moment, neither moved.

Amond stepped forward, his deep voice cutting through the silence. “Stop this, Kakarot,” he said, his tone firm but lacking malice. “You’re wasting your time. You can’t destroy the tree.”

Goku’s eyes narrowed, his stance shifting defensively. “I don’t care what it takes. I’m not going to let Turles use this thing to hurt anyone else!”

Amond shook his head slowly, cracking his knuckles. “Don’t make us do this...”

The other members of the Crusher Corps fanned out behind Amond, their postures tense and ready. The air grew heavier as the standoff began.

Goku raised his hands defensively. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Daiz sneered. “We don’t have a choice.” The Crusher Corps launched their attack.

The battle erupted beneath the towering tree. Goku, still in base form, moved like a blur, dodging and countering the Crusher Corps’ coordinated assaults. Amond’s powerful punches tore through the ground, while Rasin and Lakasei’s synchronized attacks came at Goku from every angle.

From a distance, Turles and Avoca arrived unnoticed. Turles stood still, arms crossed, his calculating gaze fixed on the battlefield. His expression remained unreadable, but his eyes sharpened as the bark of the Tree of Might faintly glowed, pulsating in sync with each burst of energy Goku unleashed. The faint shimmer of the tree's response reflected in his focused stare, a subtle yet telling indication of his thoughts.

Goku dashed to the side, narrowly evading Rasin and Lakasei’s coordinated blasts, which detonated with enough force to send shockwaves through the battlefield. He retaliated with a spinning kick to Daiz, who blocked but was forced back, his feet skidding across the ground. Goku didn’t stop, leaping into the air to avoid a flurry of energy shots from Cacao. Mid-air, he twisted and deflected one of the blasts with his palm, redirecting it into the ground, where it erupted in a fiery explosion.

Landing with a thunderous crash, Goku stood firm, his body radiating raw power. His hair spiked upward, and his aura erupted into a golden blaze as he ascended to Super Saiyan 3. The overwhelming surge of energy sent the Crusher Corps stumbling back, shielding their eyes from the brilliance.

The ground beneath Goku cracked and splintered as he charged forward with lightning speed, appearing in front of Amond in an instant. The giant swung a massive fist, but Goku ducked under it and delivered a punishing uppercut to his jaw, sending the towering warrior reeling. Then, with a sudden smirk, Goku let his energy drop, reverting back to his base form.

“Alright,” he muttered under his breath, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “You asked for it.”

In a flash, Goku powered up again, this time ascending to Super Saiyan Blue. The battlefield erupted with his divine energy, its radiant glow illuminating the Tree of Might in the distance. Without hesitation, Goku lunged at Amond, driving his fist straight into the warrior’s chest. The force of the blow sent Amond hurtling backward, crashing into the ground and leaving him momentarily incapacitated.

The remaining Crusher Corps regrouped, their bodies bruised and battered but their resolve unwavering. Goku stood tall, his piercing gaze fixed on them as his aura continued to pulse with power. “Stay down,” he warned, his voice calm but firm. “I don’t want to hurt you any more than I have to.”

But the Crusher Corps refused to yield. Their bodies tensed, their energy flaring wildly as they drew upon hidden reserves of power. One by one, they let out guttural screams, their auras exploding in a fiery spectacle. Goku’s eyes widened as he felt the shift.

It was undeniable. Each of them—Amond, Daiz, Rasin, Lakasei, and Cacao—had transformed into Super Saiyans.

Daiz’s aura shimmered with a unique neon glow, while the others radiated the classic golden hue of their transformation. Their newfound power tore through the battlefield, kicking up gusts of wind and cracking the earth beneath their feet.

Goku clenched his fists, his eyes widening briefly as he took in the glowing golden auras surrounding the Crusher Corps. “You’ve… finally reached it,” he said, a hint of pride in his voice. “That’s Super Saiyan power. Not bad… not bad at all.”

His expression grew more serious as he dropped into his fighting stance. “But you’re not used to it yet. Let’s see if you’re ready to handle what comes next.”

The Crusher Corps wasted no time, launching a coordinated assault on Goku. Cacao charged first, his metallic armor gleaming under the moonlight, robotic limbs crackling with concentrated energy as he advanced with terrifying speed. Rasin and Lakasei flanked him, their movements swift and calculated, launching high-speed attacks from both sides.

Goku met them head-on, his form a blur as he dodged, blocked, and countered with precision. Cacao lunged with a crushing blow, but Goku deftly sidestepped, his body weaving through the chaos. Daiz appeared behind him, unleashing a spiraling energy wave. Just in time, Goku turned, redirecting the blast upward with a swift flick of his wrist before closing the distance and delivering a spinning kick that sent Daiz crashing into a nearby boulder.

Amond’s massive form loomed over Goku, swinging a double-fisted smash. Goku caught the blow, his feet grinding into the earth as the impact reverberated through his body. With a surge of strength, he flipped Amond over his shoulder, sending him crashing into the ground with a heavy thud.

The battle raged on, the force of their attacks shaking the battlefield. Despite their newfound power, Goku’s experience and mastery over his transformations gave him the edge. He moved like a whirlwind—dodging, striking, and countering with impeccable timing. Though the Crusher Corps fought valiantly, their lack of control over the Super Saiyan form made them predictable.

Breathing heavily, Goku stood over the defeated warriors, watching as they collapsed one by one, their bodies too drained to continue. He looked down at them with a mixture of respect and pity. “You’re not used to this power,” he muttered. “You can’t keep fighting like this.”

But just as Goku thought the battle was over, a faint shimmer from the distance caught his eye. The bark of the Tree of Might began to glow in sync with the energy pulsing through the battlefield. Unbeknownst to Goku, a shadow observed from afar. Turles, arms crossed, stood with Avoca, his sharp gaze fixed on the scene. His attention shifted from the warriors to the tree—an eerie glint of calculation in his eyes.

The third round began as Turles’s silent command echoed through the air. The Crusher Corps, battered but not broken, surged forward once more. This time, despite their newfound strength, they struggled to keep up with Goku’s unmatched experience and combat precision. One by one, they fell, their auras flickering erratically as their lack of control over the transformation left them vulnerable to Goku’s overwhelming mastery.

As the dust settled and the final blow was struck, Goku stood tall amidst the defeated warriors, breathing steadily. He glanced around, his eyes falling on the fallen Crusher Corps. Their bodies littered the battlefield, but he didn’t feel triumphant. Instead, he turned, sensing the shift in energy—a new presence.

Turles stepped forward, his dark aura overwhelming, the very air around him seeming to crackle and vibrate with power. His eyes studied Goku with a mix of begrudging respect and something darker.

“You never cease to amaze me, Kakarot,” Turles said, his voice smooth and calm. “You’ve crushed my forces with surprising ease. But I’ve been watching...and the Tree of Might has been reacting to your energy.” His gaze flickered to the glowing bark of the Tree, as if it too sensed the divine energy Goku had unleashed.

Goku met his gaze, wary. “It doesn’t have to be like this, Turles...”

Turles shook his head slowly, a half-smile curling on his lips. “You’ve made your choice. And now, I’m making mine.” He raised his hand and, with an almost ceremonial flourish, pulled from his garb a glowing fruit from the Tree of Might. Its radiance hummed with power, an almost intoxicating aura emanating from it.

Without another word, Turles sank his teeth into the fruit. The moment he did, a surge of energy exploded from him, his aura expanding in violent waves. The Tree of Might seemed to respond in kind, its bark glowing more brightly as though feeding off Turles's newfound power.

Goku’s eyes widened slightly as he felt the magnitude of the energy now coursing through the king of the saiyans. "What is this...?" Goku muttered under his breath, but Turles wasn’t done yet.

"This," Turles said, his voice now rich with confidence, "is the future of our race. Once I’ve unlocked its true potential, with a bit of your divine energy to help nurture it... it will bear fruit unlike any before, and I will have the strength to reshape this universe.”

Turles stepped forward, his eyes locking with Goku’s. “Now, you’ve seen what I can do, Kakarot. But I’m not holding back anymore. I want you to see just how far this power can go.”

___________

Writer’s Note:

That was intense! Adding the palace chase with Goku was a fun addition during the revision process, and it allowed for some great character moments. I especially enjoyed the dynamic with Rasin and Lakasei—they’re loyal to Turles, but their hesitation to harm Goku adds depth to their conflict. They give him chance after chance, but when it comes down to it, they’re forced to act.

Goku’s fight against the Crushers near the Tree of Might was a deliberate callback to the original movie, though with plenty of key differences. One of the biggest changes is the inclusion of the Crushers turning Super Saiyan, along with Goku utilizing both Super Saiyan 3 and Blue. To clarify, Goku has been on Idun for quite some time now—more than just a few days. During this period, he’s been training with the Crushers, helping them unlock the Super Saiyan transformation.

The fight near the tree was pivotal because it pushed the Crushers beyond their limits, finally allowing them to tap into this legendary power. However, just because they’ve achieved Super Saiyan doesn’t mean they can fully match someone like Goku, who has mastered these transformations over years of experience.

As we near the final chapter of Part 1, the tension is building, and big reveals are just around the corner. The story is reaching a wild turning point (or at least, I hope you think so too)!

CHAPTER 19: POWERS BEYOND

Goku stood beneath the pale glow of twin moons, their silvery light bathing the rocky expanse in a faint luminescence. His body moved fluidly, dodging and countering strikes from Amond, who lunged at him with relentless determination.

Nearby, the Crusher Corps—Daiz, Rasin, Lakasei, and Cacao—were deep in their own training, working tirelessly to unlock the elusive Super Saiyan transformation. Daiz strained, his aura flaring erratically as golden sparks flickered and faded. Rasin and Lakasei, as always, worked in perfect sync, their sparring a graceful dance of power and precision. Cacao stood slightly apart, his metallic gauntlets shimmering as he unleashed rapid strikes against a jagged outcrop, each punch reverberating with raw power.

“You’re all doing great,” Goku said encouragingly, ducking under one of Amond’s punches and catching his arm mid-strike. “But remember, Super Saiyan isn’t just about raw energy—it’s about channeling it, letting it flow naturally through you.”

“Easy for you to say, Kakarot!” Amond grunted, pulling back and unleashing a wild flurry of punches. “You make it look effortless!”

Goku grinned, sidestepping and countering with a light tap to Amond’s shoulder, spinning him around. “It’s not effortless—it’s practice. Took me years to get where I am. But hey, let me show you something I’ve been working on. It might help you out.”

Floating backward, Goku hovered in the air, his body relaxing as he closed his eyes. Slowly, a shimmering silver aura enveloped him, his hair glowing faintly with a metallic sheen. The Crusher Corps froze, their jaws dropping.

“What… What is that?” Daiz stammered, his voice a mix of awe and disbelief.

“It’s called Ultra Instinct,” Goku explained, his voice calm as he opened his sharp, silver eyes. “It’s a state where your body moves on its own, without hesitation. I’m still mastering it, but teaching it—even just the idea of it—helps me understand it better.”

He demonstrated a series of controlled, fluid movements, each one precise and effortless. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he sent a small energy ball into the air, darting through the Crusher Corps’ strikes as they attempted to hit it. They failed every time, their punches and kicks missing by mere inches.

“This is insane,” Rasin said, panting. “How do you even train for something like this?”

Goku chuckled, dropping out of Ultra Instinct and landing lightly on the ground. “It’s not easy. One time, I trained for a whole year in a single day. Used a place called the Hyperbolic Time Chamber. It’s tough, but it’s worth it.”

The Crusher Corps stared at him, their disbelief evident. “A year in a day?” Lakasei repeated, shaking his head. “You’ve got to be kidding. How’s that even possible?”

Goku laughed. “It’s possible, trust me. And it’s the kind of training that can push you past your limits.”

As the group took a brief break, Goku’s eyes wandered to a massive tree in the distance, its twisted branches reaching toward the twin moons. It stood alone on a rocky hill, towering over the landscape.

“That tree,” Goku said, gesturing toward it. “What’s the deal with it? It feels… different. Almost alive.”

Amond glanced at the others before responding. “That’s the Eternal Tree. Back on Planet Sadala, it was the key to our survival. Its roots ran deep, drawing energy from the planet itself. The fruit it bore sustained us when resources were scarce.”

“Sadala?” Goku asked, his curiosity piqued. “That was the original saiyan homeworld right? What exactly happened there?”

The Crusher Corps exchanged uncertain glances, their expressions clouding. Daiz spoke up first. “It’s… complicated. Let’s just say we ended up stranded, and the tree was the only reason we survived.”

Before Goku could press further, a familiar voice cut through the night. “You have a lot of questions, Kakarot.”

The group turned to see Turles approaching, Avoca at his side. His presence was commanding, his expression calm but intense. “Perhaps I can provide the answers you’re looking for.”

The Crusher Corps stiffened but didn’t move to challenge their leader. Goku, however, straightened, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched Turles approach.

Without waiting for an answer, Turles gestured for Goku to follow him. The Crusher Corps exchanged uneasy glances but remained silent, trailing behind as Turles led them deeper into the palace. Their path descended into the dimly lit depths, where the air grew cooler and carried a faint hum of energy.

“This way,” Turles said, his voice steady yet weighted with purpose.

Goku’s eyes wandered as they entered an expansive chamber. The room stretched far, its walls lined with rows of ancient scrolls, relics, and peculiar devices, each emanating a faint aura of history and power. Strange symbols etched into the walls glowed faintly, illuminating unfamiliar artifacts scattered throughout. Each piece seemed to pulse with the weight of the Saiyan legacy, pressing down on Goku as if the very air carried the echoes of a civilization long lost.

“What is this place?” Goku asked, his curiosity bubbling despite a nagging sense of unease.

Turles stepped forward, gesturing around the room. “These are the Saiyan archives—the remnants of our people’s legacy. Artifacts salvaged from Sadala, fragments of our history gathered from other planets. It’s all that remains of who we were before our race fell to ruin.”

Goku paused, his gaze falling on a large stone table at the room’s center. The table was etched with glowing, intricate markings, softly pulsating with energy. Something about the symbols felt oddly familiar to him, though he couldn’t quite place why.

Turles turned to face him, studying him intently. “What do you know about our race, Kakarot? About the history of the Saiyans, beyond what you’ve learned through your battles and experiences?”

Goku scratched the back of his head, trying to recall the fragments of information he had gathered over the years. “Honestly, not much. I’ve learned bits and pieces, but I’ve never had the full picture.”

Turles’s eyes narrowed, his lips curling into a slight smirk. “Then, you’ve only scratched the surface. What if I told you that I, along with my comrades, were part of the Great Saiyan War? That we lived through it?”

Goku blinked, processing the words. “Wait... you guys were part of that war? But how is that even possible? You all look like you’re my age, maybe older.”

Turles’s expression grew more somber, his voice growing quiet as he spoke. “The divine fruit of the Tree of Might granted us longevity. At first, it was a gift—power, strength beyond our wildest imaginations. But there was a time, a long time ago, when we sought more. We turned to dark alchemy—draining the life force of others to sustain ourselves. It’s a part of our past that I’d rather forget.”

Goku’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You...you actually did that? That’s pretty dark.”

Turles nodded, a bitter edge to his smile. “It was a desperate time. But we’ve moved on. What I seek now is a way to reshape the future of the Saiyan race. The power of the Tree... it can be harnessed to ensure the survival of our people. If we can unlock its true potential, we can rise above the mistakes of our past. To truly awaken the Tree’s potential—to make it bear fruit that transcends what we’ve seen—it must be imbued with divine energy.”

Goku’s curiosity flared, though caution lingered in his voice. “Divine energy?”

Turles’s gaze turned sharp. “You’ve trained with Angels. You’ve accessed power that goes beyond mortal comprehension. With your energy, Kakarot, the Tree could reach its true potential. And through it, the Saiyan race could rise again—stronger than ever.”

Goku narrowed his eyes. “What’s the point, Turles? What are you aiming for with all this?”

Turles’s demeanor shifted, his calm exterior cracking slightly as he leaned forward. “The Saiyan race has been scattered, reduced to mere survivors and footnotes in the universe’s history. I want to unite us. To give us purpose. To rebuild our legacy. But to do that, sacrifices are necessary.”

The word “sacrifices” made Goku’s chest tighten. His mind raced, piecing together what Turles was implying. “Wait a minute... The dying planets—those seeds you’ve been planting. That was you, wasn’t it? You’re the reason those planets are gone!”

Turles straightened, his expression unflinching. “Those planets were necessary sacrifices. Their life forces feed the Tree, strengthening its roots, its fruit. It’s all for the greater good, Kakarot.”

Goku’s fists clenched, his voice rising. “You’re destroying lives—whole worlds—for your idea of a ‘greater good’? That’s not how you bring people together, Turles! That’s the same twisted logic that ruined our race in the first place!”

The tension in the room grew thick as the Crusher Corps looked between the two Saiyans, their unease mounting. None of them dared to intervene, unsure of where their loyalties lay.

Turles’s calm mask finally cracked, a flare of frustration lighting his eyes. “You’ve always had the luxury of standing on a moral high ground, Kakarot. But not everyone has the choices you’ve been given. For those of us who’ve fought to survive, power is the only language the universe respects.”

Goku’s brow furrowed as he processed Turles’s words. “And you think using that power—taking what you’ve learned from the past—is the way to go? What happened to just living and fighting for what’s right?”

Turles stepped closer to Goku, his tone growing more intense. “You of all people should understand, Kakarot. You and Vegeta—both of you wield power to protect what you care about. Why should I be any different? I’m doing this for the Saiyan race!”

Goku took a step back, shaking his head. “No, you don’t get it. Power like that... it won’t solve everything. You can’t just force things to go your way. That’s how we end up destroying everything, just like before.”

Turles’s face twisted with frustration, his calm demeanor cracking. “Then you leave me no choice, Kakarot. I’ll do whatever it takes to secure our future—even if you stand in my way.”

He turned to the Crusher Corps, giving them a sharp nod. The group exchanged uncertain glances, their expressions conflicted. Amond’s fists tightened, Daiz shifted uncomfortably, and even the stoic Cacao hesitated. They had spent time training with Goku, bonding over shared struggles and moments of camaraderie. But under Turles’s command, their loyalty was clear—whether they liked it or not.

The tension in the air was palpable as they stepped forward, their faces hardening into resolute masks. Goku frowned, sensing their reluctance despite their outward determination.

“Sorry, Kakarot,” Amond muttered, glancing at Goku apologetically.

Goku stood firm, his fists clenching, ready to fight. “So am I.”

The tension in the room was palpable, the air thick with the impending clash. Goku knew this fight was coming, and he could feel the weight of the decision that lay before him. Turles had pushed him too far. Now, Goku would stand his ground, no matter what.

___________

Writer’s Note:

Turles’s true colors are finally coming to light. This is the moment we see why the King kidnapped Goku. At first, Turles tried to appeal to Goku by showing him the heritage he’s missed out on, hoping he would willingly join his cause. But Goku, being true to himself, doesn’t need to know every detail of Turles’s plans to sense that what he’s doing—or planning to do—is wrong.

The Crushers add an interesting layer of tension here. They’ve bonded with Goku in their own way, but their loyalty ultimately lies with Turles. Now, they find themselves caught in a moral conflict: stay loyal to their King or confront the growing realization that Goku might be right. With these conflicting loyalties in play, who knows what will happen next?

CHAPTER 18: THE CHASE TO IDUN

The streets of the city erupted into chaos as Noppal burst out of the club, his heavy boots skidding across the pavement. His scouter beeped furiously, alerting him to the two powerful energy signatures closing in fast. He whipped around, spotting Vegeta and Gohan emerging from the smoke and debris of the raid.

With a curse under his breath, Noppal shot into the air, his aura flaring around him as he blasted through the crowded skyline. The force of his takeoff shattered nearby windows, and civilians below scattered, shielding themselves from the shockwave.

“There he goes!” Gohan shouted, his own aura igniting as he and Vegeta shot into the sky in pursuit.

Noppal glanced over his shoulder, gritting his teeth as he saw how quickly they were gaining on him. He raised one hand, firing a barrage of ki blasts into the streets below to create a distraction. The explosions rattled the city, sending plumes of smoke and dust into the air as cars flipped and storefronts shattered.

“We can’t let him destroy the city!” Gohan yelled, diving toward the blasts. He raised his hands, intercepting one of the explosions with a burst of his own energy, while Vegeta deflected another with a precise swing of his arm.

“You think I’m going to let you slow me down?” Noppal shouted, firing more energy attacks indiscriminately.

“Damn it!” Vegeta growled, narrowly dodging a blast aimed at a nearby building. He sent a small, controlled ki burst to counter it, ensuring no civilians were hurt. “If you have a plan, now’s the time!”

Gohan glanced ahead, his sharp eyes spotting an open plaza where the crowd was thinner. “I have an idea.”

Vegeta gave a short nod, his focus still locked on Noppal.

Without hesitation, Gohan peeled away, his aura dimming as he dropped toward the city streets, weaving through the alleys to circle around.

Noppal noticed the change in their formation, his scouter struggling to track Gohan’s signature as it disappeared. He smirked, his confidence swelling.

“Trying to outsmart me, are you?” Noppal muttered, increasing his speed and flying higher into the city skyline. He twisted through towering skyscrapers, using the narrow passages to his advantage.

Vegeta, unrelenting, closed the gap, his aura crackling as he tore through the air. Noppal turned sharply, blasting through a crowded marketplace. The force of his speed sent carts and debris flying, but Vegeta followed seamlessly, his movements precise.

“I’m done running!” Noppal snarled, spinning mid-flight to fire another volley of ki blasts.

Vegeta didn’t falter, weaving through the attacks with ease before returning fire. His own blasts were smaller and controlled, aimed to force Noppal into the open rather than destroy the city around them.

The chase stretched on, moving through every corner of the city—skimming rooftops, diving through narrow alleyways, and racing along the outskirts. Sweat dripped from Noppal’s brow as he realized Vegeta wasn’t tiring, his relentless pursuit pushing him further toward desperation.

Finally, Vegeta closed the distance in a burst of speed, slamming into Noppal and sending him hurtling into the side of a building. The impact cracked the wall, debris raining down as Noppal struggled to recover. Before he could fully regain his footing, Vegeta grabbed him by the collar of his battle suit, lifting him off the ground with ease.

“Where’s Turles?” Vegeta hissed, his voice low and menacing. “Where can we find him?”

Noppal’s eyes widened briefly, his scouter flickering as it processed Vegeta’s power. Then his lips curled into a sneer. “I’m not telling you anything,” he spat. 

Vegeta’s scowl deepened, and for a moment, it seemed like he might finish things right there. But instead of striking, he smirked coldly.

“Oh, you’ll talk.”

Before Noppal could react, Vegeta placed two fingers on his forehead. In an instant, the two vanished, leaving only the faint hum of displaced air behind.

***

The rocky terrain outside the city was eerily quiet, save for the sound of the wind brushing against jagged stones. Gohan stood at the ready, sensing Vegeta’s energy appear behind him. He turned to see Vegeta holding a stunned Noppal by the collar.

“It worked!” Gohan said, relief washing over him. “At least we’re away from the city now.”

Vegeta released Noppal, letting him stumble to the ground. “That’s the only time I’ll willingly use Instant Transmission,” he grumbled.

Noppal staggered to his feet, his body glowing faintly as he tapped into the reserves of the fruit’s energy. His scouter beeped faintly, and he smirked. “You think moving me here will change anything? You’re fools.”

“Keep talking,” Vegeta said coldly, stepping forward.

Noppal roared, his power surging as he charged at Vegeta, aiming a powerful punch. But Vegeta sidestepped with ease, countering with a devastating knee to the gut. The force sent Noppal sprawling across the rocky ground.

Gohan joined the fray, his energy crackling as he unleashed a series of rapid strikes. Noppal tried to retaliate, but he was slowing down, his reserves waning. Still, his cunning kept him unpredictable, and he managed to keep both Saiyans on their toes.

Finally, Vegeta delivered a decisive blow, a crushing punch to Noppal’s jaw that sent him crumpling to the ground, unconscious.

“Hmph,” Vegeta muttered, brushing dust off his gloves.

Moments later, the sound of a ship descending broke the quiet. The Galactic Patrol arrived, with Truffle, Tarble, and Broly leading the way. Truffle carried a small device in hand, signaling the Patrol to secure the area.

Tarble approached, his expression serious. “The other guy is in Galactic Patrol custody. He’s given us enough to pinpoint Turles’s location.”

Truffle nodded, stepping forward. “It’s a planet called Idun. That’s where Turles has been operating, and where the Saiyan race has been quietly rebuilding under his leadership.”

“Idun…” Vegeta said, his arms crossed and his gaze sharp. “Good. We’ll finally put an end to his reign.”

Truffle continued, “Before we came here, I had Meelo hack into Dakon’s ship. It had the exact coordinates to get there.”

Gohan glanced between them, his determination evident. “Then we know where to go. We can’t waste any more time.”

Vegeta’s lips curled into a smirk. “Turles won’t see us coming. We’ll strike before they even realize.”

Truffle nodded in agreement. “I’ll set the course. The Galactic Patrol will handle things here while we move forward.”

Tarble’s expression shifted as he processed the revelation. “A whole planet... hidden, full of our people. After everything we’ve been told—after all these years thinking our race was wiped out...” He trailed off, the weight of the discovery clear in his voice.

Vegeta glanced at his younger brother, his usual stoic demeanor softening ever so slightly. He looked away for a moment, as if searching for the right words. “It’s... unsettling, I know. For so long, I believed we were the last of our kind. That the Saiyan race only lived on in memory.”

Tarble met Vegeta’s gaze, surprised by the rare glimpse of vulnerability in his older brother. “Do you think they’ll even recognize us as their own? Or have they become something else entirely?”

Vegeta’s fists clenched at his sides. “That doesn’t matter. Saiyans are Saiyans, no matter how far they’ve strayed. If Turles has twisted them into something unrecognizable, then it’s up to us to set things right. This isn’t just about him—it’s about the future of our race.”

Tarble nodded, his resolve strengthening. “Then we’ll face whatever’s there together. We owe it to our people—and to ourselves.”

***

As the team loaded into Truffle’s ship, Tarble stood near the communication console, his expression softening as Gure’s voice came through. “Are you and Vegeta okay?” she asked, her concern evident.

“We’re fine,” Tarble replied, his tone reassuring. “We’ve been through worse. Vegeta’s here too—still as stubborn as ever,  but we’ll manage.”

A faint chuckle came from Gure before Bulma’s voice chimed in. “You better make sure he doesn’t do anything reckless, Tarble. I don’t have the patience to patch him up again!”

Vegeta crossed his arms, overhearing the conversation. “Tell Bulma I’ll be fine,” he said, his tone tinged with mock annoyance.

Tarble smirked and relayed the message, earning a sarcastic laugh from Bulma. “Sure you are, Vegeta.”

The brief exchange brought a moment of levity to the group before the seriousness of their mission settled back in.

As the team awaited the arrival of the Kais, a quiet tension filled the air. Moments later, the ground outside the ship began to shimmer with energy. Supreme Kai and South Kai materialized before them, standing just beyond the ship’s ramp. Their expressions were somber, their urgency apparent.

Supreme Kai didn’t waste any time. “We’ve gathered more intel about Turles’s operations. Somehow—” he began, but Truffle stepped forward, holding up the small sack containing the dangerous seeds they had recovered.

“These are the seeds,” Truffle said, her tone grave as she handed the sack over to Supreme Kai. “Turles is working with the criminal underworld to distribute these seeds across various planets. He’s not just trying to grow the fruit—he’s testing which planets can sustain the Tree of Might, with the goal of mass-producing it across the universe.”

Supreme Kai’s expression darkened. “So, Turles is planning a widespread operation, hoping to harness the power of the Tree on a massive scale.”

Truffle nodded, her voice tense. “Exactly. If he succeeds, the consequences could be catastrophic. He’ll have the means to control countless worlds.”

Gohan, standing nearby, clenched his fists. “And wiping out planets that can’t.”

South Kai frowned, his eyes darkening. “This is far more dangerous than we thought…” He trailed off, the implications heavy in the air.

“We won’t let this get any further,” Truffle added.

Supreme Kai nodded, taking the sack with a solemn expression. “We’ll make sure these seeds are destroyed. It’s a necessary step to prevent Turles from achieving whatever he’s planning.”

With the seeds now in the Kais’ possession, the tension in the air only deepened. Supreme Kai gave the group a meaningful look before he and South Kai turned to leave.

“We’ll take care of this,” Supreme Kai said. “Your path now leads to Idun. Be cautious. What you find there may be more than even you expect.”

As the Kais vanished, the team gathered their final preparations. The ship’s engines hummed to life, ready to take them to their next destination. Tarble looked at Vegeta, a quiet determination settling over them both.

“Ready?” Tarble asked.

Vegeta, his expression hardening, gave a single nod. “Always.”

The team blasted off into the skies, leaving the planet behind, and heading towards the unknown dangers waiting on Iden.

___________

Writer’s Note:

Next stop: Idun.

My favorite moment in this chapter is when Vegeta uses Instant Transmission. Ever since he learned it during the Moro arc and vowed never to use it again, I’ve been waiting for the perfect moment to force his hand. Gohan coming up with the idea to fly far away from the city so Vegeta could trace his ki and use Instant Transmission to keep the city out of harm’s way felt like the perfect solution. It was such a cool and strategic moment to write.

What makes this scene even more special is how rare it is to see Vegeta and Gohan working together like this. Sure, they’ve fought in the same battles before, but they’ve never truly coordinated their attacks or worked side by side. This chapter gave me the chance to explore that dynamic, and I loved showcasing their teamwork.

CHAPTER 17: A TASTE OF POWER

The underground arena was electric with anticipation, the crowd buzzing with excitement as the tournament reached its final round. Gohan, barely able to keep his balance after a series of brutal matches, stood in the center of the arena, his chest rising and falling with every strained breath. His once-pristine battle gear was now tattered and worn, a testament to the grueling fights that had led him here. 

The announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers, turning the atmosphere electric.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” The announcer’s voice crackled, his holographic projection appearing beside Gohan in the center of the arena. The crowd roared, eagerly awaiting the final showdown. “It’s time for the final match—the moment we’ve all been waiting for! The fight of a lifetime, and you won’t want to miss it! Place your bets now, folks, because this one’s about to get interesting.”

The hologram of the announcer turned to Gohan with a mischievous grin. “And this fighter here, the unexpected crowd pleaser, the Great Saiyaman—he’s already proven himself an underdog tonight. But what happens next? Let’s see if he can hold his ground against an opponent like no other…”

The announcer paused, letting the tension build as the crowd murmured in excitement. “This fighter comes from a race long thought to have been wiped out by a meteor! Known for their fierce fighting spirit and unmatched strength, this warrior has come to prove that extinction is just a word.”

A hush fell over the crowd as the announcer’s voice dropped, building suspense. “Noppal!”

The crowd erupted into cheers, the noise deafening as Noppal entered the arena. His scouter beeped softly as he surveyed the room, his no-nonsense demeanor sending a chill through the air. His black and gray battle suit, scuffed from countless battles, clung tightly to his muscular frame. Close-cropped dark hair framed his face, and his bulkier physique spoke of raw power and endurance—this was a fighter built for destruction. The audience locked their eyes on him, the tension thickening in the air.

The announcer’s voice rang out, cutting through the noise. “Folks, you’ve never seen a fight like this. Prepare yourselves, because it’s about to get intense.”

Vegeta and Broly exchanged looks, their instincts alert as they watched Noppal with calculated precision. Both were focused, sensing the danger this fighter presented.

The announcer’s voice broke the tension. “This is the fight of the century, folks! We’ve got the underdog of the hour, the mysterious fighter known as Great Saiyaman, and he’s about to face a real challenge! Can he survive the might of Noppal?”

Gohan’s heart raced as the spotlight shifted to him. The crowd cheered, their support unwavering despite the odds stacked against him. But Gohan was far from confident; he was exhausted, his energy reserves nearly depleted. Noppal towered over him, his aura crackling with power.

“Let’s see if you’ve got what it takes.” Noppal’s voice echoed across the arena, a smirk spreading across his face. 

As the fight began, Noppal wasted no time, charging forward with blinding speed. His fists slammed into Gohan with brutal force, each blow landing with a bone-shaking impact.

Gohan struggled to keep up, his body aching from the previous rounds. Despite his exhaustion, he knew he couldn’t afford to back down—not now, not with so much at stake.

“You’re not even close to being my match, kid,” Noppal taunted, his voice laced with mocking amusement. “You really think you can stand up to me?”

Gohan gritted his teeth, his voice firm despite his exhaustion. “I’m not here to win for the crowd. I’m here to find out the truth. Where’s my father?”

Noppal’s brow furrowed, genuine confusion flickering across his face. “Your father? What are you talking about?”

Gohan didn’t back down, charging forward and forcing Noppal into an exchange of blows. Between strikes, Gohan’s words cut through the noise. “Several days ago, your King fought two Saiyans—and took one of them.”

Noppal’s expression shifted as realization dawned. His movements slowed just enough to betray the connection forming in his mind. “So that’s who you mean...” He suddenly slammed his fist into Gohan’s helmet, shattering it.

The pieces clattered to the ground, revealing Gohan’s face. Noppal froze for a split second, his sharp eyes narrowing. Recognition burned in his gaze, and his lips curled into a contemptuous smirk. “You...you kinda look just like him. You’re his son, aren’t you? That explains the power. But it won’t matter. You’re just another piece on the board, a tool for King Turles’s plan. Nothing more.”

Gohan clenched his fists, his resolve hardening. “We’ll see about that.”

As the battle raged on, Noppal’s overwhelming strength, amplified by the fruit of the Tree of Might, made each strike devastating. Every punch and kick carried a force that pushed Gohan to his limits. Yet Gohan refused to falter. He wasn’t just fighting for survival—he was fighting for answers. He couldn’t let Noppal escape with the truth he sought.

***

Back in the VIP booth, Truffle, disguised and keeping a low profile, watched the fight unfold. Her eyes weren’t on the battle itself, but on Dakon, who was holding the seeds of the Tree of Might close. Truffle knew those seeds could provide the key to understanding Turles’s plans, and she needed to get her hands on them. She adjusted her position, inching closer under the pretense of mingling.

Borzak leaned back, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “You’re a persuasive man, Dakon. And I’m a businessman. Whatever your king needs, name it. Planets, resources, distribution networks—I’ll make it happen. I’ve got contacts across the galaxy willing to pay any price for something like this. And if this power can rival the Frieza Empire…” He let the implication hang in the air.

Dakon tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. “The Frieza Empire is merely one obstacle in a much larger plan. But for the right price...”

Borzak grinned. “Consider it a deal in the making. Seeing this power in action is all the proof I need.”

As the two spoke, Truffle edged closer, feigning disinterest in their conversation. Her eyes darted toward the seeds, her mind racing with plans. If she could just get close enough…

Her first attempt was cautious. Pretending to adjust her position for a better view of the fight, she moved behind Dakon, her hand inching toward the seeds. But Dakon shifted slightly, blocking her with a casual, deliberate movement that seemed almost unconscious.

Borzak, still unaware, continued. “Dakon, your king must be bold to take on the galaxy like this. I respect that. But to think he’d defy even the Frieza Empire—now that’s ambitious.”

Dakon’s lips curled into a faint smirk. “Ambition without strategy is reckless. My king’s plans are calculated, and this,” he gestured subtly toward the seeds, “is only one piece of the puzzle.”

Truffle retreated momentarily, pretending to admire the arena below, but frustration burned in her chest. She needed those seeds, and Dakon wasn’t making it easy. She waited for another opening, her gaze flickering to Borzak’s goons stationed nearby.

Her second attempt was bolder. She pretended to stumble, dropping her drink near Dakon’s seat. As she crouched to retrieve it, her fingers brushed close to the seeds.

Dakon’s voice cut through the air, soft but sharp. “Careful, miss. Some things are more dangerous than they appear.”

She froze, her heart pounding as she looked up to find Dakon’s gaze locked onto her. He knew. And worse, he was baiting her.

Before she could retreat, Dakon gave a subtle nod to Borzak’s goons. They moved in, grabbing her arms with a force that left no room for resistance.

Borzak raised an eyebrow, finally noticing the commotion. “What’s this?”

Dakon’s tone was calm, almost amused. “It seems we’ve had an unexpected guest. A little too curious for her own good.”

Just as the situation seemed to spiral, the booth doors burst open with a resounding crash. Tarble strode in, his presence commanding the room as his sharp eyes scanned the scene. Dakon and Borzak exchanged confused glances, neither recognizing him at first.

“Who the hell are you?” Borzak demanded, his voice dripping with suspicion.

Before Tarble could respond, one of Borzak’s goons froze, his eyes widening in recognition. “Wait a second…Nightshade?” The goon’s tone was incredulous. “It’s you, isn’t it? Cooler’s shadow enforcer. I never thought I’d see you again!”

Tarble blinked, momentarily taken aback by the name. It had been years since anyone had called him that. A flicker of nostalgia crossed his face before he shook it off. “I did go by that once,” he admitted, his voice low. “But those days are behind me. I’ve turned over a new leaf.”

Borzak leaned back in his seat, unimpressed. “I don’t care what you call yourself or who you used to work for. You’ve made a mistake walking in here.” He waved dismissively at his goons. “Take him down.”

The goons rushed forward, but Tarble was faster. In an instant, his energy flared, and with a single, fluid motion, he incapacitated the nearest attacker and freed Truffle from their grasp. She stumbled briefly before regaining her balance, her eyes lighting up with relief.

“About time,” Truffle muttered, brushing herself off.

Tarble turned to her with a sharp look. “Stay close. I’ll handle this.”

But Truffle didn’t back down. As another goon lunged toward her, she spun gracefully, delivering a swift kick to his chest that sent him crashing into the wall. Tarble raised an eyebrow, momentarily caught off guard by her skill.

“You’ve got some moves,” he remarked, a hint of surprise in his tone.

“Thanks,” Truffle shot back, dodging another attack and countering with a precise strike. “But we don’t have time to mess around. We need those seeds, and Dakon’s not getting away.”

The two of them moved in perfect synchronization, fighting off the goons with a combination of martial prowess and raw power. Tarble’s energy blasts lit up the room, while Truffle’s speed and precision kept the enemies off balance.

Dakon, meanwhile, watched the chaos unfold with a calm exterior, his hand still resting on the seeds. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes darted between Truffle and Tarble, calculating his next move.

Borzak, still seated, shouted over the commotion. “Don’t let them get the seeds! Do you have any idea what those are worth?!”

Tarble and Truffle exchanged a quick glance, their mutual understanding clear. They weren’t leaving without those seeds—or without apprehending Dakon.

***

Meanwhile, Gohan’s battle with Noppal raged on, the clash between them reaching a fever pitch. The arena was an inferno of raw energy, every blow reverberating through the structure. Gohan was battered, his body pushed to its limits, but his determination never wavered. He gritted his teeth, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he locked eyes with Noppal, who smirked with the confidence of a predator closing in on its prey.

“You’re slowing down,” Noppal taunted, his voice carrying over the deafening cheers of the crowd. “I thought you’d at least be a challenge.”

Gohan tightened his fists, refusing to falter. Just as he was about to launch another attack, a strange sensation washed over him. For a fleeting moment, he felt a presence—faint yet familiar—brushing against his mind like a whisper in the wind. His heart raced, his senses sharpening as an aura seemed to pulse within him, a strength he hadn’t fully tapped into.

The realization struck him like lightning: someone—or something—was reaching out to him, fueling his resolve.

Noppal lunged, his fist aimed straight for Gohan’s chest, but Gohan’s aura exploded around him, golden light shifting to a radiant, ethereal glow. His Ultimate Form ignited, his power surging beyond anything the audience—or even Noppal—had expected. The crowd gasped, the air thick with a mix of awe and dread as the arena trembled beneath their feet.

Gohan’s voice was firm, his energy crackling. “This ends now!”

The two clashed with renewed intensity, their blows shattering the ground and sending shockwaves through the arena. The walls began to buckle, debris falling as the structure struggled to contain the overwhelming power.

From the sidelines, Vegeta’s sharp eyes scanned the scene, his jaw tightening. “This place won’t hold much longer,” he muttered. “If they keep this up, the entire arena is coming down.” He turned to Broly, who stood nearby, watching intently. “We need to get the crowd out of here.”

The arena’s foundation groaned under the pressure, cracks spreading like spider webs across the walls and floor. In the ring, Noppal let out a roar, his power spiraling out of control. With one final surge, he smashed through the fencing, leaping into the chaos of the fleeing crowd.

“No!” Gohan shouted, his voice ringing with urgency. He glanced at Vegeta, who nodded in silent agreement. Without hesitation, the two Saiyans took off after Noppal, their ki trails streaking through the chaos.

Meanwhile, in the VIP booth, Truffle and Tarble were locked in combat with Borzak’s goons. Truffle’s sharp movements and calculated strikes kept the attackers at bay, while Tarble’s energy blasts carved a path through the chaos. Despite their skill, the sheer number of enemies threatened to overwhelm them.

Just as one of the goons aimed a strike at Tarble’s back, a massive shadow loomed over them. Broly crashed into the scene like a force of nature, his raw power sending the attackers flying.

“Need some help?” Broly asked, his voice calm but his eyes blazing with intensity.

Tarble smirked, wiping sweat from his brow. “Perfect timing.”

As the trio fought their way through the booth, Truffle kept her eyes on Dakon, who stood at the edge of the chaos, clutching the seeds of the Tree of Might in his hands. His expression was unreadable, but his stance was clear—he wasn’t going to fight.

“Stay close!” Tarble instructed, shielding Truffle from an incoming blast.

Truffle nodded but didn’t hesitate to retaliate, her movements swift and precise. As the last of Borzak’s goons fell, she turned to Dakon, who raised his hands in surrender, the seeds still clutched tightly.

“I’m not a fighter,” Dakon said evenly, his eyes flicking to Tarble. “But I can tell you’re a Saiyan. I don’t want any trouble—I’ll cooperate.”

Truffle stepped forward, her gaze hard. “Hand over the seeds, and you might get out of this unscathed.”

Dakon hesitated for a moment, then extended his hand, the seeds gleaming in the dim light. “Fine. But if you’re looking for answers, you’re not going to like what you find.”

As Truffle secured the seeds, she signaled the Galactic Patrol. Moments later, their forces swarmed the club, apprehending the remaining criminals and restoring order.

Outside, Gohan and Vegeta continued their pursuit of Noppal, their energy blazing as they closed the distance. The chase wasn’t over, and neither was the fight for answers.

CHAPTER 16: SEED OF DESTRUCTION

The noise from the arena below was muffled inside the lavish VIP booth, but the occasional cheers and chants from the crowd seeped through the walls—faint reminders of the chaos unfolding beyond the polished confines. Inside, the air was stifling, thick with the cloying tang of expensive liquor and the acrid glow of Borzak’s cigar-like contraption.

Truffle sat stiffly at the edge of the room, her every movement calculated, her expression a perfect mask of neutrality. Beneath her calm exterior, her pulse raced, but she couldn’t afford a single slip. She had to play the part—just another nameless showgirl in Borzak’s inner circle. Blend in, stay unnoticed, she reminded herself.

Borzak himself was impossible to ignore. The mogul was a grotesque mix of wealth and menace, his hulking frame adorned with layers of gaudy jewelry that clinked with every exaggerated movement. Gold rings encrusted with gemstones gleamed on his thick fingers, and a fur-lined coat draped over his broad shoulders despite the room’s oppressive heat. Everything about him screamed indulgence and arrogance, as though his ego was as much his armor as his wealth.

The glowing blue smoke from his cigar spiraled lazily upward, forming a haze that made the air almost unbearable. Truffle fought the urge to cough, taking shallow breaths through her nose to avoid inhaling too deeply. Her sharp eyes flicked across the room, cataloging details—the position of the exits, the guards stationed at the door, the behavior of Borzak’s entourage sprawled in nearby seats.

Her disguise as a showgirl was holding for now, but she could feel Borzak’s leering gaze on her, sizing her up like a predator. It made her skin crawl, but she kept her composure. I’ve been in worse situations, she thought, clinging to her focus. Just get the intel and get out.

“More drinks,” Borzak barked suddenly, his voice a low growl as he waved lazily in her direction.

Truffle forced a smile, her movements smooth and practiced as she stepped forward to refill his glass. “Of course, sir,” she said sweetly, her voice light and unassuming.

Her mind raced as she poured, wondering how long she could keep up the charade. Every second here felt like an eternity, each moment increasing the risk of exposure.

The hiss of the booth door sliding open cut through the tension, and Truffle’s body tensed instinctively. She kept her expression neutral, carefully stepping back into the corner, the tray in her hands a convenient prop.

A burly goon entered the room, bowing slightly. “Boss, your business associates have arrived.”

Borzak’s lips curled into a smirk as he set his drink down with a loud clink. “Bring them in.”

Truffle’s stomach tightened as her eyes flicked toward the door. Business associates? she thought, her mind already spinning with possibilities.

The air seemed to shift as two figures entered the room, their presence immediately commanding attention.

Her heart skipped a beat as she recognized them—Saiyans.

The first saiyan was tall and lean, his spiked crimson hair giving him an almost fiery appearance that stood out even in the dimly lit booth. His sleek black and gray battle suit gleamed under the low light, though its intricate gold accents—carved in sharp, regal patterns—betrayed its purpose as a statement of status rather than practicality. This wasn’t armor meant for combat; it was crafted to signify power and position, the mark of someone accustomed to courtly dealings rather than battlefield skirmishes. His confident smirk never faltered, and his piercing, almost lazy gaze swept the room as though every detail had already been measured and deemed unworthy of his concern.

The second saiyan, in stark contrast, was bulkier, his physique built for brute strength and endurance. His close-cropped dark hair and the faint hum of his scouter added to his no-nonsense demeanor. His battle suit was also black and gray, but it was stripped of ornamentation, worn and scuffed in places, a testament to countless battles. It clung tightly to his frame, designed for function over flair, emphasizing practicality over grandeur. His sharp eyes darted across the booth with deliberate precision, every corner of the room scrutinized with the intensity of a warrior who expected trouble at any moment. While his demeanor was quieter than his companion’s, there was a palpable menace in his measured movements, a sense that his calm exterior concealed devastating power.

Truffle’s heart nearly stopped, her pulse hammering in her ears as the realization hit her. They’re here? she thought, her breath catching for a moment. She had been hoping to find some lead on their whereabouts, but not like this—not while trapped in Borzak’s booth, playing the part of a nameless servant.

Her fingers tightened slightly around the tray she held, the edges digging into her palms as she fought to keep her expression neutral. Stay calm. Stay unnoticed, she told herself, retreating further into the shadows. She lowered her head just enough to appear deferential, though her sharp eyes remained fixed on the two Saiyans.

Borzak rose from his seat, his jewelry jingling loudly as he spread his arms in a mock display of hospitality. “Ah, my esteemed guests! Welcome, welcome. I trust your journey was uneventful?”

The crimson-haired saiyan, Dakon, sneered, his voice sharp and cutting. “Let’s skip the pleasantries, Borzak. We’re here for business, not small talk.”

Truffle’s grip on the tray tightened ever so slightly as she edged further into the corner. Her sharp ears caught every word, her mind working furiously to piece together what was happening.

Dakon’s gaze briefly swept the room, pausing for a moment on Truffle. Her heart leaped, but she didn’t flinch, keeping her head low and her expression blank. His attention passed as quickly as it landed, and he moved further into the booth.

Borzak gestured toward the plush seating area, his smirk widening. “Please, make yourselves comfortable.”

As the saiyans settled into their seats, Truffle’s mind was a storm of questions. Why are they here? What could they possibly want with Borzak? Still, she kept her composure, careful not to give herself away. She had a job to do, and any mistake now could cost her dearly.

***

Meanwhile, in the stands, Meelo hovered up to Vegeta, Tarble, and Broly, its beeps frantic and insistent. The little droid’s lights blinked in rapid succession, the urgency impossible to ignore. Vegeta frowned, uncrossing his arms as his sharp gaze narrowed on the droid. 

Broly leaned in slightly, his large frame moving with surprising care as he studied Meelo. “It’s… trying to tell us something,” he said slowly, his voice thoughtful as he focused on the sequence of beeps.

Tarble’s expression shifted, concern flickering across his face. He glanced around instinctively, scanning the stands. “Wait…” he said, his voice growing quieter. “Where’s Truffle? She hasn’t checked in with us in a while.”

Vegeta stiffened at that, his posture no longer as composed. His eyes darted to the corridors before settling back on the beeping droid. 

Meelo let out another rapid series of beeps and turned toward the shadowed corridors, its blinking lights almost frantic as it rolled a few feet away, then back, as if beckoning them to follow.

Vegeta’s brow furrowed deeply, a rare flicker of worry crossing his features. “She wouldn’t just disappear without letting us know,” he muttered, his voice quieter now. His eyes lingered on the path Meelo seemed desperate to lead them down. “If something’s wrong…”

Tarble stepped forward, his tone resolute. “I’ll check it out. You and Broly stay here and keep an eye on Gohan.”

Vegeta turned to his brother, his usual commanding presence tempered by visible concern. “Be careful,” he said firmly, his voice low but weighted with warning. “If there’s trouble, don’t engage unless you have no choice. And don’t draw attention to yourself.”

Tarble nodded, his expression steady. “I’ll handle it. I won’t cause a scene.”

Broly glanced between the two brothers, his quiet gaze lingering on Tarble. “Do you want me to go with him?” he asked, his tone calm but ready.

Vegeta shook his head. “No. If something’s happening, it’s better we don’t all leave. Gohan might need us.” He looked back at the arena, where Gohan’s match was about to start, though his focus remained split. “Tarble can handle this.”

Tarble gave a reassuring nod before turning to follow Meelo, who had already started zipping ahead toward the shadowed corridors. Vegeta’s gaze lingered on his brother’s retreating figure for a moment longer than usual before he forced himself to turn back to the ring.

Broly leaned slightly toward him. “Do you think she’s okay?”

Vegeta didn’t answer immediately, his jaw tightening as he watched Gohan square off with his opponent. Finally, he muttered, “She’s strong…but if she’s in danger, we’ll make whoever’s behind it regret it.”

As Tarble disappeared into the crowd, Meelo leading the way, Vegeta and Broly watched the next fighter enter the ring. This opponent was a disciplined martial artist, his movements precise and fluid. For Gohan, it was a more familiar style of combat, but the match was far from easy.

***

Back in the booth, Truffle moved carefully, refilling glasses and avoiding eye contact as the conversation between Borzak and the Saiyans unfolded.

“You’ve been a valuable partner to us,” Dakon began, leaning back in his chair, his crimson hair catching the dim light. His voice was smooth, almost conversational, but carried an undertone of authority. “Your networks of weapons and resources have kept certain… operations running smoothly.” He smirked, swirling the drink in his hand. “But now, we’re offering you something far more valuable—a trade that will elevate you beyond even your wildest ambitions.”

Borzak raised an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly. “I’m listening.”

Dakon reached into a pouch on his belt and pulled out a small, sealed container, setting it on the table with deliberate care. “These,” he said, his voice lowering, “are seeds from the Eternal Tree of Might.”

Borzak’s sharp gaze fell on the container, his curiosity piqued. “Tree of Might?” he repeated, skeptical.

Dakon’s grin widened, his confidence unwavering. “The fruit of the Eternal Tree is no ordinary harvest,” he said smoothly. “It’s a source of unmatched energy and power—concentrated life force drawn from the planets it grows on. One bite, and the strength it grants rivals that of the gods themselves.” He gestured toward the container, his tone turning almost enticing. “And now, we’re offering you a chance to harness that power.”

Borzak’s skepticism lingered, his expression unreadable. “Even if I believed you, why would you offer such a resource to me?”

“In return for your help,” Dakon said smoothly, his tone growing sharper. “The fruit is…particular. It requires planets capable of sustaining its growth, and not every world is strong enough to handle its power. Most…fail.”

“Fail?” Borzak asked, tilting his head.

“They wither,” Dakon explained, his smirk deepening. “And die. But in exchange for the tree’s fruit, that’s a price worth paying, wouldn’t you agree? With your reach, your resources—you could help us find the planets we need to expand its influence. In return, you reap the rewards.”

Borzak leaned back, swirling his drink. “You’ve certainly got my attention…but this feels like a tall tale, Saiyan. Divine fruit? Power beyond imagination? Where’s your proof?”

Dakon chuckled softly, motioning to his companion. “Noppal?”

The bulkier Saiyan stepped forward, his dark eyes glinting as he reached into his pouch. He produced a gleaming golden fruit, its surface shimmering with an otherworldly glow, and set it on the table. The energy radiating from it was almost tangible, making the air feel heavier.

“One bite,” Dakon said, gesturing to the fruit, “Just one bite, and even the weakest among us would rival the gods.”

Borzak’s gaze lingered on the fruit, his intrigue obvious. He reached for it, but Noppal’s large hand shot out, stopping him.

“Not so fast,” Noppal rumbled, his voice calm but carrying a hint of menace. “This one isn’t for you.”

Without waiting for a response, Noppal raised the fruit to his lips and took a deliberate bite. The room seemed to grow heavier as his energy spiked, muscles rippling as his already imposing frame seemed to expand. Power radiated off him in waves, causing glasses on the table to tremble.

Borzak’s eyes widened, but before he could speak, Dakon gestured to one of Borzak’s bodyguards—a massive brute who stood silently by the door. “Your toughest man,” Dakon said, his grin widening. “Let’s see how he fares.”

Borzak hesitated for a moment before nodding. The guard stepped forward, cracking his knuckles as he squared off with Noppal.

The fight was over in an instant. With a single strike, Noppal sent the brute flying across the room, slamming him into the far wall with a sickening thud. The guard crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

Dakon leaned back, clearly enjoying the stunned look on Borzak’s face. “Still think it’s a myth?” he asked, his tone almost mocking.

Borzak exhaled slowly, his expression shifting from disbelief to intrigue. “Impressive,” he admitted, his voice steady. “And you’re telling me… this fruit can do that to anyone?”

“Anyone,” Dakon confirmed. “But its effects are amplified for those who are already strong. Imagine what it could do for you…or the mercenaries you employ.” He leaned forward slightly, his crimson eyes locking with Borzak’s. “My companion here—” he gestured to Noppal, who stood with an air of quiet menace—“will be the final opponent in your little tournament. A live demonstration, if you will.”

Borzak smirked, clearly entertained by the idea. “I like it. But I assume your king—what’s his name? Turles?—has his own reasons for this…generosity.”

Dakon chuckled, leaning back again. “King Turles has big plans. This quadrant? Frieza’s empire? They’re all ripe for the taking. With your help, Borzak, you could be part of something far greater.”

As the conversation continued, Truffle’s hands tightened around the tray she carried. Her heart pounded as the pieces began to fall into place. The appearance of these saiyans, the connection to the dying planets, and the mention of King Turles—it was all starting to make sense. Truffle’s heart raced as she realized the scale of what might be happening, but the full extent of his plans still eluded her.

She had to get this information to the Galactic Patrol. But how?

In the arena, Gohan’s match reached its climax. The martial artist was skilled, but Gohan’s training and adaptability gave him the edge. With a decisive blow, he secured his victory, the crowd erupting into cheers.

In the VIP booth, Noppal’s lips curled into a dangerous smirk as he stood, his energy still radiating from his earlier bite of the fruit. “Now,” he said, his voice deeper and more menacing, “let’s see how this Great Saiyaman fares against true power.”

___________

Writer’s Note:

Meet Dakon and Noppal—two new Saiyans I created specifically for this story. This chapter juggles multiple threads, with each character playing a role as the plot slowly converges on the key goal: uncovering the location of Idun.

Putting Truffle in the middle of all this chaos added a layer of tension and created the perfect opportunity for some mayhem to unfold. Her presence helped elevate the stakes and made the situation more dynamic.

When I decided to include Tarble in the story, I knew I wanted to explore his relationship with Vegeta. A lot of time has passed between them since they reconnected during Cooler’s Wrath, and I see Tarble as the younger brother trying to rebuild that lost connection. This dynamic adds depth and emotional weight to their interactions, and it’s something I’ve enjoyed developing throughout the story.