With the once-catastrophic battle behind them, the valley on Planet Vampa fell into an uncanny hush. The dust had settled, revealing scorched earth and immense craters left by Gojo Satoru's clash with Broly. Though Gojo and Launch had emerged victorious, it was a hollow kind of triumph: Broly, drained of his legendary power, lay unconscious in Gojo's arms, his body battered and trembling under the harsh greenish light of Vampa's sky.
Inside their Capsule Corp ship, Gojo and Launch cleared a corner of the main cabin to accommodate Broly's massive frame. He rested on a makeshift bed improvised from stacked blankets. Launch, still in her blonde persona, set aside her rifle and frowned over his torn flesh, bruises, and the faint ring-shaped burn where his broken collar once sat. Despite the planet's stifling air and toxic dust, the Saiyan's breathing came in shallow, rasping intervals.
"We can't just leave him like this," Launch muttered, rummaging for medical supplies from a small storage locker. "He might not last the night without help."
Gojo, still weary from the fight, knelt beside Broly. He pressed a palm lightly to the Saiyan's broad chest. "I've got it," he said quietly.
Drawing on his Reversed Cursed Technique, Gojo channeled negative energy in reverse, transmuting it into a vibrant, healing glow.
Over the months of rigorous training, he had perfected this skill to a near-instinctive level: no incantations needed, just calm focus. A pale blue-green radiance filled the cabin, dancing across Broly's injuries.
Torn muscles and bleeding cuts slowly knitted themselves together under the warmth of Gojo's healing touch. The process took time—Broly's body was far from ordinary—but eventually, his breathing steadied.
Launch observed in awe, her earlier tension melting into relief. "That is so freaky," she said, marveling at the cursed energy's regenerative effect. "But I'm not complaining."
Gojo managed a half-smile. "It's no magic bean, but it does the job." He let the glow subside, exhaling heavily. The strain of healing someone so powerful was no small task, especially following such a draining battle.
Broly stirred, eyelids fluttering as he slipped from unconsciousness into a dazed half-sleep. He mumbled incoherently, voice laced with confusion and lingering pain. Launch placed a damp cloth on his forehead, exchanging a silent nod with Gojo.
"Let him rest," Gojo said at last, rising to his feet. "We'll keep watch."
Despite Launch's strong desire to haul Broly off Vampa, Gojo hesitated. "We can't force him onto our ship," he pointed out. "And from the sound of things, leaving so soon might just lead to another meltdown if we uproot him too quickly."
So they stayed. Over the following days, Broly lay in a fitful recuperation, sustained by minimal rations and the occasional healing session. Launch explored the immediate surroundings for water sources. Gojo scouted the planet's canyons for stable ground that might serve as a makeshift training field—somewhere with fewer hazards but enough space to handle Saiyan outbursts.
By the end of the first week, Broly had recovered enough to walk about with unsteady steps. Each time his eyes landed on Gojo or Launch, a flicker of guilt and gratitude played across his face. "I… lost control again, didn't I?" he asked in a hollow tone.
Gojo nodded gently. "Yes, but you're still here. We want to help you learn how to keep that power in check."
Broly's lips pressed into a trembling line. "I've tried… my whole life. I just… get angry, and then everything goes dark."
Launch folded her arms. "Well, we've got time—and we're not exactly short on weird powers ourselves. Stick with us, yeah?"
A flicker of hope lit Broly's eyes.
In the spirit of forging discipline, Gojo proposed a simple arrangement: each morning, after a quick bite of whatever passable nourishment they could gather, Broly would practice controlling his ki in short, controlled bursts. Gojo served as his sparring partner, Infinity shimmering as a failsafe in case Broly slipped into a frenzy. Launch maintained her vigilance from a safe vantage, ready to intervene if needed.
At first, Broly's progress was minimal. The second his emotions spiked—particularly frustration at not mastering a move quickly—his ki flared dangerously. Gojo would counter with a measured blast of Blue or Red, gently pushing him back rather than harming him. Over time, Broly began recognizing the sensation of that building storm inside him, pausing before it crested.
"Don't try to bury it," Gojo coached, arms folded, Infinity flickering around him. "Acknowledge your anger. Control it; don't let it control you."
Broly, sweat dripping, nodded. "E-easier said than done."
Still, day by day, the Saiyan improved. Instead of going berserk the moment stress hit, he'd channel just a fraction of that power, throwing potent but manageable strikes. Each time, Gojo matched him blow for blow, subtly guiding Broly's technique while Infinity protected them both from lethal collisions.
That didn't mean outbursts never happened. There were times when Broly's simmering rage boiled over—perhaps triggered by a memory of his father, or from nearly being devoured by a pack of Vampa's monstrous creatures. On those occasions, his ki would spike rapidly, emerald aura turning savage.
In those moments, Gojo rose to the challenge, once more unveiling the synergy of Infinity, cursed energy, and the Eternal Flame. Even so, he rarely resorted to Black Purple at full scale. He'd harness a smaller application of "Black," boosting Blue or Red just enough to subdue Broly without wrecking the planet. The battles were brief but intense, each one testing Gojo's reflexes more than the last. Even if Broly only fought for minutes, his power soared higher each time.
After a particularly brutal flare-up—where Broly temporarily achieved the Legendary form once more—Gojo collapsed to one knee, sweat-drenched, Infinity blinking erratically. Launch, racing to his side, found him panting, adrenaline spiking. Broly, bruised and half-lucid, stared in horror at the devastation they'd caused, another crater etched into Vampa's surface.
"It's okay," Gojo reassured, forcing a smile despite the tremor in his arms. "We're both still standing."
But inside, he noted how each outburst forced him to fight harder and refine his synergy. Broly's infinite growth potential demanded that Gojo keep pushing himself as well, forging new layers of Infinity toggling and honing Reversed Cursed Technique for quicker healing between rounds.
Weeks turned to months. They mapped out specific zones on Vampa for training, setting up beacons so Launch could monitor them from the ship's vantage. With each passing day, Broly learned to focus his ki, harnessing it in small increments rather than unleashing it in a massive wave. Meanwhile, Gojo refined his mastery of Infinity toggles, advanced usage of "Black" on a smaller scale, and practiced deploying Reversal Red in micro-bursts so he could subdue Broly without overkilling the environment.
Launch, who once balked at staying on a forsaken planet for so long, gradually adjusted to the new normal—gathering water from underground pools, cooking the local fauna with some dried seasonings, and even practicing her shooting skills on the lesser beasts. She occasionally teased Gojo about how he'd never stop seeking new levels of power, but deep down she knew how vital this was for them both—and for Broly.
In time, Broly's outbursts became less frequent, though not less dangerous. Each meltdown showed he could climb to a higher plateau of strength, challenging Gojo's abilities and forcing the sorcerer to innovate further. More than once, Launch found them both sprawled in a blasted canyon after a training session that ended with a near-catastrophic burst of Legendary power.
Yet each near-disaster also cemented a growing bond. Broly, once a solitary figure haunted by fear, found acceptance. Gojo, for all his cosmic might, discovered a potent training partner who could push him beyond complacency.
Launch, switching between her docile and aggressive personas at random intervals, came to see their bizarre arrangement as a family of misfits: two unstoppable warriors forging a path to control, and one watchful companion refusing to let them destroy themselves.
Gojo and Broly squared off at the edge of a vast canyon, this time by design rather than necessity. Vampa's swirling dust storms loomed in the background, but the pair remained resolute. Launch watched from a safe ridge, rifle across her lap, a faint grin tugging at her lips.
Broly inhaled deeply, channeling his ki into a stable, radiant glow. Though flickers of green still flicked along the edges, it was contained—no longer an uncontrollable wildfire. Opposite him, Gojo shimmered with Infinity and the subtle presence of the Eternal Flame. The ground rumbled as they clashed, but unlike before, their energy output remained deliberate. Where earlier battles sundered the land in violent chaos, now they moved with a measure of harmony—fierce yet purposeful.
"Good job," Gojo said between rapid exchanges of blows. "You're staying calm, even at higher levels."
Broly nodded, sweat glistening. "Feels… better. Less like I'm drowning in it."
They separated, standing amid the battered canyon, hearts pounding. Launch rose to her feet, calling out, "Looks like no meltdown today, Broly."
A small, almost shy smile crossed Broly's face. He turned to Gojo, the thanks unspoken but palpable in his eyes. Without needing words, Gojo placed a hand on his shoulder—no Infinity barrier this time—just real contact, a testament to trust.
"This is just the beginning," Gojo said softly, acknowledging how far they'd come and how far they had yet to go.
With Broly's control improving daily and Gojo's power still evolving, the trio found themselves no longer imprisoned by the planet's hostility, but rather shaped by it. Vampa became a crucible where both men tested and tempered their might, each outburst forging deeper unity, each training session unveiling new thresholds to surpass.
Launch sometimes joked about writing a travel guide: "How to Survive a Death World with a Saiyan Time Bomb and an Infinity Sorcerer." But beneath the humor, she shared in the sense of purpose. This was no idle wandering—together, they had found a reason to stay put, to invest in each day's grueling training.
And if, somewhere in the cosmos, other powers stirred or new threats emerged, they'd face them with renewed strength. For now, Planet Vampa remained their proving ground—a place where unstoppable potential met unstoppable will, day after day, forging unstoppable bonds.