The earth quaked violently, as if it might collapse from Goku's power. Above, the sky tore apart, wild forks of lightning streaking through the ruptured heavens and flooding the battlefield with jagged bursts of blinding light. Down below, Goku clenched his teeth with such force that veins bulged out like cords on his neck.
And then, it happened—his hair flickered gold for just a moment, the first glimmer of a legend a thousand years in the making.
In the distance, Frieza's satisfaction vanished in an instant. His senses screamed at him, and his head whipped toward Goku. Without a moment of delay, he fired off five Death Beams, each one aimed to stop the transformation dead in its tracks. These weren't careless shots either—they carried the full force of Frieza's power.
But the beams never made it.
As they neared, the golden energy swirling around Goku blazed brighter and hotter than ever. The Death Beams disintegrated on contact, evaporating into harmless wisps of energy like water droplets vaporizing in the heart of a fiery sun.
Moments later, the storm clouds that had once loomed heavily over the battlefield were suddenly swept away, banished to the furthest reaches of the horizon.
Then, golden light flooded the world.
Slowly, Goku pushed himself to his feet. His chest remained caved in from the brutal blow he had endured, and one arm hung uselessly at his side. The tattered remnants of his gi clung to him briefly before peeling away in thin strips and disintegrating into the radiant, golden energy that enveloped his entire form.
Then, the world heard Goku roar.
It started as a low rumble but swelled into an earth-shaking bellow that made the very air quiver in reverence. As the roar reached its peak, Goku's hair transformed, glowing a brilliant gold and standing upright, unyielding like a blazing crown.
Goku had done it.
The legend had descended. After thousands of years, the universe once again bore witness to a Super Saiyan standing tall before an Arcosian!
'G-Goku…'
The telepathic whisper was extremely faint, but Goku's piercing aqua eyes instantly found its source. Not far away, Ajax lay crumpled among jagged rocks, somehow still clinging to life.
Ajax's trembling hand rose—slowly, inch by agonizing inch. Something small and dark glinted in his palm, and with the last reserves of his strength, he flicked it toward Goku.
Instinctively, Goku reached out and caught it, his fingers closing around the object. When he opened his hand, he saw it—half of a Senzu bean.
Ajax let out a ragged, wheezing breath that only faintly resembled a chuckle. Blood trailed from the corner of his mouth as his hand shifted into a shaky thumbs-up. Once more, his telepathic voice reached Goku.
'I guess… I still have to leave it in your hands… Go… and dust this bitch!"
For a moment, Goku didn't move, though his expression softened as he gazed into Ajax's dimming eyes. Without speaking, Goku lifted his hand in a steady thumbs-up, mirroring the gesture back.
A crooked grin spread across Ajax's bloodied lips. His thumbs-up faltered, and his hand fell limp against the jagged rock as the last of his strength ebbed away. His head lolled to the side, and the light in his eyes dimmed, flickering out like the final ember of a dying fire.
Ajax had done what he set out to do. With nothing left to hold him back, he let go and drifted quietly into oblivion.
Goku stared at Ajax, a tightness gripping his chest as realization dawned—Ajax had willingly chosen death, sacrificing himself so Goku could have this moment. A chance to make things right.
Gratitude rose within him, and his resolve sharpened like never before.
Without hesitation, Goku raised the bean to his lips and bit down.
The instant the essence of the bean touched his tongue, it was like a dam inside him had burst. Pure energy flooded his veins, and his depleted Ki roared back to life, rushing through his body like a wild, unstoppable river. His golden aura exploded outward, its size practically tripling in an instant.
But most importantly, his crushed chest began to heal, the bones and flesh knitting themselves back together admirably, though not completely. He flexed both of his arms as they regained their former strength and stability.
As he healed, Goku bellowed once more.
It wasn't a sound that belonged to this world. There was something more in it—something deep and primal, as if an ancient beast had joined its voice with Goku's.
In the distance, Frieza instinctively took a step back.
You see, before gaining the ability to sense energy, Frieza had always leaped into battle with the unchecked arrogance of someone who knew no equal. It was a blind confidence, born of ignorance, and fed by his overwhelming power and unchallenged reign. For as long as he could remember, he had always been the strongest in the room, the predator amongst prey, the god amongst men.
But now, energy sense had peeled back that comforting veil of ignorance.
In contrast to Frieza, the Z Fighters had always endured the suffocating pressure of knowing they were outclassed, of knowing that their enemies were far stronger and faster. And yet, they kept fighting anyway—pushed by desperation, courage, hope, or the simple need to protect what mattered the most. In a way, over time, they'd grown accustomed to that pressure.
But this sensation was entirely new for Frieza.
For the first time in his life, he entered a fight knowing he was on the wrong side of the power balance. The muted pressure tightening his chest, the suffocating sense of dread and inevitability—it was all so foreign, so alien, to him.
He couldn't reconcile it. Things had simply changed too quickly.
"This… this cannot be!" Frieza's voice cracked, rising to a shrill pitch. "Y—you—! How could you suddenly be this much stronger than me?!"
The words tumbled from his lips like the desperate howls of a cornered beast. Rage flared in his crimson eyes, and with a furious burst of energy, Frieza launched himself forward, determined to prove that he wasn't outclassed.
Goku, bathed in radiant golden light, didn't move. His piercing aqua eyes simply tracked Frieza's trajectory with an unnerving calm.
Frieza's fist, wreathed in power, shot toward Goku's face with blistering speed. The impact created a thunderous crack, but Goku's head shifted less than an inch.
It was as though Frieza had punched a mountain.
For a moment, silence hung over the battlefield, broken only by the faint, rhythmic pulses of Goku's golden aura. Frieza staggered back a couple of steps, his arm still extended, his fist trembling. His wide, disbelieving eyes darted between his shaking hand and the completely unfazed golden warrior who stood before him.
Goku had no-sold the attack. He hadn't even blinked.
Frieza's mouth parted slightly, as if meaning to speak, but no words escaped. The truth he had fought so hard to reject now stood before him, undeniable and absolute. His energy sense hadn't deceived him. This was no illusion or cheap trick.
The gap between their power was painfully real.
Fury ignited within him, and Frieza lunged forward once more. Twisting in mid-air, he whipped his leg around in a vicious arc, the sheer force of his kick parting the air with a sharp, angry hiss.
But Goku was just faster. His foot lashed out like lightning, crashing into Frieza's midsection with the force of a sledgehammer. The blow bent the tyrant's body in half, his crimson eyes bulging with shock and agony.
The impact launched Frieza away. He tore across the terrain, crashing through one rock formation after another, until his body vanished into the horizon.
Goku didn't press the attack. His aqua eyes traced Frieza's trajectory for a brief moment before shifting his attention elsewhere. With calm steps, he began walking toward Ajax.
An eerie silence blanketed the battlefield as Goku knelt beside the fallen warrior. Ajax lay still, his lifeless eyes staring skyward, but his face wore an expression that gave Goku pause—relief. Goku frowned slightly, puzzled by Ajax's final emotion, but he let the thought go. It hardly mattered anymore.
A soft, barely audible apology fell from Goku's lips as he reached out and gently closed Ajax's eyes.
Rising to his feet, Goku turned his gaze to the lifeless form of his son. In an instant, he appeared beside Gohan's severed head. His heart heavy with grief, he knelt down and tenderly cradled the bloodied head in his hands. Leaning in, he pressed a gentle kiss to Gohan's forehead, his lips lingering for a moment.
Without a word, he stood and moved to where Gohan's body lay. With great care, as if performing a solemn ritual, Goku reunited the head with the body, laying them together in peace. He paused to stare down at his son's mangled form.
As Goku straightened, the emotion seemed to drain from his face. His features hardened, his jaw clenched, and his eyes lifted to the sky. The endless green expanse stretched above, serene and unchanging, cruelly contrasting with the storm of fury building inside him.
"This power…" he murmured. "It tastes like ashes."
A hollow laugh suddenly slipped from his lips, quiet and bitter. He raised his hand, turning it slowly as he studied the golden energy pulsing around his fingers. The laughter eventually died and was replaced with uncharacteristically venomous words.
"Where were you a minute ago?!"
He didn't wait for a response, for he knew there would be none. Instead, his gaze shifted to the horizon. In the distance, Frieza struggled to rise. Blood stained the tyrant's mouth, and the dirt beneath him was slick with vomit. It was a pitiful sight, one that should have brought Goku some sense of satisfaction.
But it didn't.
Goku closed his eyes, his brow furrowing deeply as a tempest of thoughts raged within. His fists clenched, then relaxed, the tension in his body mounting and ebbing as he teetered between the two sides of his inner conflict. He stood motionless, grappling with something immense, something that weighed heavily on him.
Finally, a quiet sigh escaped him. Slowly, his shoulders eased, his stance softening as he reached a decision. When his eyes opened again, the warmth that so often defined him was gone. In its place was something far sharper, far harsher.
For the first time, perhaps in his entire life, Goku's eyes were utterly devoid of warmth—colder than the deepest winter frost.
Power Levels:
Goku (Super Saiyan) – 187,500,000
Frieza (100%) – 120,000,000
***
~ Lookout ~
"Remarkable! I hadn't realized you could travel that quickly, Mr. Popo," Kami said as he strode briskly toward the center of the Lookout's platform. The light breeze at the edge of the Earth tugged at his robes, but his attention remained fixed on his steadfast attendant.
Mr. Popo had just returned with all seven Dragon Balls in tow. For context, it had been scarcely two minutes since he'd disappeared beyond the horizon, and yet here he stood again, as composed as ever.
Mr. Popo stepped back from the stone orbs. He adjusted his stance slightly, folding his arms neatly behind his back, before responding in his usual monotone, "There's much you don't know about me, Kami."
"Hmm."
Kami studied Mr. Popo in silence for a moment, his green fingers drumming lightly against his staff. Curiosity flickered in the elder Namekian's eyes, but he chose not to press further. Not because he lacked interest, but because time was a luxury they could not afford.
Kami moved toward the Dragon Balls with a grave expression. He drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes as an almost tangible stillness descended over the Lookout. The intensity of the moment silenced even the faintest whispers of the wind.
Kami's eyes suddenly flew open, now glowing with a deep, ominous crimson. Without pause, he slammed the base of his staff into the stone floor with a thunderous crack. A deep, resonant boom reverberated across the Lookout, sending ripples of magical energy outward. The magic wasn't destructive, but it wrapped Kami and the Dragon Balls in an otherworldly shimmer.
As the ritual unfolded, Kami's strength was visibly sapped. He staggered, leaning heavily on his staff for support. Though the ritual was not yet complete, its toll on the ancient Namekian was devastatingly apparent.
His once vibrant green skin had dulled to a pallid, ashen hue, and the deep wrinkles across his face seemed to deepen, as if time itself had accelerated, aging him centuries in seconds. His hands shook uncontrollably as he clung to the staff, the only support keeping him from collapsing to the ground.
Kami eventually stumbled forward, his legs giving way beneath him, but before he could collapse, a pair of firm hands caught him. Mr. Popo, ever vigilant, propped Kami up with ease.
The magic radiating from Kami latched onto the Dragon Balls like iron filings to a magnet. Hairline fractures began to creep across their stone surfaces, and from within those cracks, a brilliant, amber-hued light seeped through. Small shards of stone flaked off, floating into the air before dissolving into nothingness.
The sky above darkened, and the golden radiance trapped within the orbs suddenly burst outward.
A column of pure energy shot forth from the Dragon Balls, piercing the sky while twisting and coiling upon itself.
From the blinding column of light, Shenron materialized, his coiling, serpentine form taking shape with awe-inspiring grandeur. His jade-green scales shimmered faintly against the gloom as his colossal body stretched into the skies.
The divine dragon did not linger in silence. Lowering his enormous head, his voice boomed like rolling thunder.
"What urgent matter requires my aid, Creator?"
Kami, leaning heavily on Mr. Popo, tilted his face upward with great effort. His reply came as a rasp, nearly drowned out by the dragon's rumbling breathing.
"Revive… all Namekians… Saiyans… and Earthlings who died on Namek… after Frieza's arrival."
"Your will shall be done!" Shenron declared after a brief moment of consideration. His glowing red eyes flared bright and flooded the platform with ominous light. Moments later, the intensity dimmed slightly, and the dragon paused.
Shenron's brow furrowed—or rather, it shifted in a way that could only be interpreted as the dragon's equivalent of a frown. His gaze turned distant, as though he were peering into realms beyond mortal eyes.
"Why is he at the edge...?" Shenron muttered, his deep voice dropping to a low enough rumble that he might have intended to keep to himself. However, his immense size amplified even the faintest of words, ensuring those on the Lookout heard it clearly.
Kami blinked, confused. He turned to Mr. Popo with a questioning look. 'Edge?' his eyes seemed to silently ask.
Mr. Popo responded with a shrug and a roll of his eyes. 'Why are you looking at me? Do I look like I have all the answers? Kami, for goodness' sake, I'm not omnipotent. Figure it out yourself.'
Or at least, that's what Kami thought Mr. Popo's expression conveyed.
Before their silent exchange could go any further, Shenron's voice rumbled through the air again, instantly recapturing their focus.
"The wish can still be granted, but one of them is... difficult to reach."
"Who?" Kami asked.
"The child who made that annoyingly convoluted wish years ago," Shenron huffed in response, smoke curling from his nostrils. "The one who calls himself Ajax."
Kami's expression grew pensive as he absorbed the words. He remained silent, lost in thought.
Meanwhile, Shenron's irritation crackled like static as he grumbled, "This will leech me dry. Again. Why must that kid be so troublesome…?"
Shenron's eyes glowed red once more.
***
~ Location: Undefined, Time: Undefined ~
Ajax lurched upright, lungs burning as if he'd just been drowning. His hands scrabbled at his surroundings and found nothing but the cold ground beneath him. No light. No sound. Just an abyss of pitch-black darkness.
"…"
He blinked—once, twice—but whether his eyes were open or shut, it made no difference.
"Wha—? Where the fuck is this?!"