As Trunks stepped out of the door to the training room antechamber, the first thing he noticed was that both of his parents were standing at the console. His father looked to be in a good humor. His mother kept stealing glances in his direction, getting the gooey look she always did before doing something that would embarrass the hell out of him. Motion in his peripheral vision revealed Goten standing at the door to the hallway, gesturing furiously. Trying to be nonchalant, Trunks started walking toward the entrance. He froze as he heard his mother clearing her throat.

"You can play later, Trunks. We need to have a talk," Bulma said. Goten grimaced, shrugged, and then disappeared into the hallway. Damn. Heh, most of the time it's his mom giving orders and me sneaking away. Guess it's only fair. As he approached his parents, he braced himself. While he hadn't fully inherited his father's aversion to affection, he ran cooler than most humans; unfortunately, this included his mother. "I am so proud of you, young man. I think that only Gohan has managed to achieve Super Saiyan 2 at such a young age."

"It's nothing, Mom," Trunks said, his face coloring. I hate to say it, but I'm starting to prefer Dad's reactions. This is kind of awkward. There was a moment of silence. He looked up to see both of his parents staring at him. He blinked. Did I say something wrong?

"Are you Vegeta?" a deep male voice asked from behind him. It wasn't me they were looking at! He turned to see yet another Saiyan, almost as tall as a basketball player and extremely well-built. He wore a friendly grin and messy spiked hair that immediately reminded him of Goten's father. Standing next to him was a slim woman who bore a strong resemblance to Whis and a slightly overweight Kai who looked visibly nervous.

"I am Vegeta," the former prince said, immediately putting himself between the interloper and his family. "You're traveling with an angel and a Kai, which makes you a god. Regardless, I'm not going to let you invade my home."

"I am a god. I was the god of destruction for Universe Fifteen," the taller Saiyan said.

"Well, you're not the god of this universe," Vegeta replied. His aura flared and then kindled into life with godly ki, as blue as the sky itself. "And we don't need a second one."

"I agree. I don't want Beerus' job," the god said. "I want you to head a small team, to go into the messed up version of my old universe and get whatever it is that made it that way."

"Why would I do that?" Vegeta asked. Behind him, Bulma had slipped her phone out of her pocket and was quietly trying to make a call. Trunks stood at his father's side. His power was miniscule compared to the overwhelming energy of both his father and the new arrivals, but he refused to back down.

"Because every god of destruction in the multiverse, backed up by the authority of High Priest-sama and Zeno-sama, is requesting that you do so," the woman said.

"Why me?" Vegeta demanded. "This is the kind of thing that Kakarot gets 'volunteered' for, not me. And frankly, I'm not interested."

"Your level of interest does not matter," the angel replied. "It has to be you. You are the one who has the mirror."

"That thing again? It's done nothing but cause problems. Why don't I just destroy it?" Vegeta asked. As soon as the last syllable left his lips, the angel moved. Before he could react, she had put him into an extremely painful hold. He began to struggle, only to feel her arms tightening with strength that he could not counter.

"You will not," she hissed in his ear. Trunks and Bulma stared at her in terror, having seen Whis' power first hand and knowing what angels were capable of. Having delivered her message, she let him go. He staggered forward a couple of steps and then whirled, ready to attack. She stared at him coolly. "I will explain, in time. But the entire multiverse is at stake – your compliance is not optional."

"I have one condition," Vegeta said. "And I don't give a damn. I won't go anywhere unless it is met."

"Fine. What is it?" the angel said tiredly. Vegeta pointed at the other Saiyan.

"First, we fight," Vegeta said. "Do you honestly think I could meet a Saiyan God of Destruction and not test my strength? If you selected me, you know better."

"I told you, Reis," the god said, chuckling. The angel shot him a glare. "I'll try to make it quick."

DRAGON BALL EXODUS

Universe 15 Saga II: Mission Improbable

CAULIFLA

"Alright, you dweebs," Caulifla said, kicking in the door to the bar and walking in. "Who's buying?"

"Boss!" a chorus of voices yelled. Nearly the entire tavern, filled with rowdy Saiyans, raised their glasses. She saw dozens of familiar faces, as well as a few new ones. Hangers-on, probably. They like the gang life just enough to show up and play tourist. Speaking of tourists… The only ones who hadn't saluted her were a nervous-looking family, obviously out of place. The mother clutched at the two children near to her, a boy and a girl. The father adopted the look of an herbivore that a hungry predator had just sighted. Without missing a beat, said predator sauntered up to their table. They all stared at up her, wide-eyed. The roughnecks and hooligans making up the rest of the clientele turned to watch, getting ready to enjoy the show.

"You guys did see the signs, right? The literal trail of crossed bones leading here?" Caulifla asked. She peered curiously at them. Reminds me of Gohan and his wife, except… pitiful. Definitely not a threat.

"Y-yeah," the father stammered. "But it was highly rated on the network."

"You actually fell for that?" she asked, shaking her head. She started chuckling to herself. "Hey, bartender. How many customers like this have you gotten recently?"

"Quite a few," the barkeep said, setting out a row of clean glasses. "That dare might have gotten out of hand, boss."

"Yeah, no kidding," she replied. She looked down at the family again, grinning. "Every last review is one of my boys, probably drunk, and on a dare to write the stupid thing. For the record, this is literally a gang hideout. You're actually kind of lucky you brought your kids. We don't mess with kids. If you were alone, both of you would be outside wandering around, broke and possibly naked."

The father dropped his fork. A bead of sweat ran down his face. The mother clutched her children even tighter. For a long moment, Caulifla let the suspense build. I can't help it. I love messing with civvies. Seriously though, we need to take those reviews down.

"Eh. You folks enjoy your meal," Caulifla said dismissively, and then turned and walked through the tavern toward the back room. Appreciative laughter followed her. The family looked around, ready to escape, and then realized that every single bandit was ignoring them, more interested in their liquor, chow, and distantly, their returned leader.

"Always more fun when the boss is around," one of the bandits said.

"Heh, where's the girly girl that used to follow her?" another asked.

She's already here, you dumbass. But you know, you just sit there and be drunk. Good boy.

The antechamber to the back room was much cooler than the stifling front, which was packed with men of questionable hygiene. It was also tasteful, kept that way by a couple of toughs that Caulifla kept on personal retainer. They eyed her as she approached, both dressed in snappy business suits and wearing light sunglasses.

"Why do you two look like police?" she asked, sighing.

"Well, we're gangsters. But we're well-paid gangsters," the younger, more muscular one said. The older, taller one nodded. The resemblance between them was very close. Mato and his uncle Tillo. Old school crooks, a couple of the first ones to join my gang. Kind of goofy, but tough and loyal.

"Kale?" Caulifla shouted. "Are you back there already?"

"Yeah!" Kale's voice responded from the adjacent lounge.

"What do you think of the suits?" Caulifla shouted.

"They look like police!" Kale replied. Caulifla nodded.

"Mato. Tillo. Lose the suits," she said. The two of them looked at each other and then nodded to her. "You don't have to wear the kind of crap that the boys up front are wearing, but people might get the wrong idea."

"We understand," Tillo said, his voice a little reedier than his nephew's. "Don't worry, boss."

The lounge was the real back room, holding a huge pair of leather corner couches on top of and surrounded by polished wood paneling. The room was lit by a small chandelier, casting just enough light to make things feel casual. The gold-inlaid wooden table between the two couches was a large oval of wood. On one end of the table sat two drinks, one of them half finished. Behind the second sat Kale, grinning. Sometimes when I leave, I wonder why I come back here. Then I remember: it's good to be the Boss.

"Bloody eye, no ice," Kale said. "Not your favorite, but it'sh one of the few they make properly here."

"We're on the edge of a suburb bordering a desert," Caulifla said, plopping down on the comfortable couch. She eyed the drink in front of her, an oddly heterogeneous cup of red sludge. "It's not exactly a fancy nightclub."

"No excuse for some of thingsh I've drank here," Kale said, shaking her head. As if to prove her point, she took a drink of her own concoction and made a face. "The bartenders need a talking to."

"I never heard you complain about this before," Caulifla said. She took a drink of the bloody eye. It tasted red... and potent. About what I expected.

"I'm… different now," Kale said quietly. No shit. About time, too. "Everything I've seen and done, I can't go back to how I was. I don't even want to."

"Then don't," Caulifla said. She knocked back the rest of the drink, immediately feeling a warm feeling coming from her stomach. "Go tell the bartender what you want. If he screws up, kick his ass."

"I've got a better idea," Kale said. She stood up, wobbling slightly. The empty glass sat in front of her. "I'm going to go makesh my own drink. If the bartender tries to stop me, then I'll kick his ass."

"You're learning," Caulifla said approvingly.

SIGMA TWELVE

The training room was empty and spotless, except for the three figures standing at the center of it. Vegeta seemed excited, with a hint of apprehension. Primary motive for excitement: fighting a Saiyan god of destruction. Secondary motive: Doing so before Son Goku. Maizcal stood about two meters away, arms crossed in front of his chest, looking bored. Between them was Twelve's projection, wearing a simulated white-and-black patterned referee's shirt.

"Final protest: This fight may involve energy levels beyond this room's safe limits," Twelve said, looking toward Vegeta.

"The listed safe limits, or the actual ones my wife doesn't want me to know about?" Vegeta asked.

"It's for your own good, you know," Bulma said over the loudspeaker. "The room will be okay, I think. Just don't do anything too crazy. Twelve, monitor its structural integrity. If it drops below, say, 80% or so, we'll stop."

"Compromise acceptable. Restraint is still advised," Twelve said. He stepped back, leaving the path between the two fighters clear.

"I'm going to beat the crap out of you," Maizcal said, smirking at the shorter Saiyan. "You may have achieved the Divine Super Saiyan form, but that will not be enough to face me."

"Divine Super Saiyan?" Vegeta asked, raising an eyebrow. "Great, now it has three names. We usually just call it Super Saiyan Blue. Kakarot kept calling it Super Saiyan God Super Saiyan until he bit his tongue for… I don't know how many times, honestly."

"Super Saiyan Blue?" Maizcal asked. He chuckled to himself. "I like it, but it kind of sounds like a soft drink. Frozen raspberry. You know, I could go for one of those right now."

"Excuse me? I don't care how powerful you are. If you're not going to take this seriously, I'm going to hurt you," Vegeta growled. In a flash, his aura turned into an even, steady blue. Interesting. The Primary in Super Saiyan Blue is approximately equal in power to the god. However, the god has not attempted to increase his power, and there is a high probability that he has concealed a transformation. Judgment of probable winner at this time is inconclusive.

"Fine, fine. Whatever," Maizcal said. He assumed a fighting stance that looked decidedly odd to Vegeta, who eyed him warily. Subject has longer arms and legs than most, due to his above average height. His stance is designed to capitalize on reach. "Wait a minute. Weren't you the one who beat up Champa?"

"Oh, yes," Vegeta said with an evil grin.

"Too bad for you. I'm way more powerful than he is," Maizcal said.

"No, you're not. Right now, you're less powerful than he is," Vegeta said. Maizcal gave him an exasperated look.

"Look, how about we both cut the crap and do our final transformations? I'd love to have a nice long fight, but we actually do need to get going," Maizcal said. Before Vegeta could answer, the loudspeaker sprang to life.

"That reminds me, you'll need supplies. By the time you two are done, there will be a couple of small shipping containers outside with hover units," Bulma said. Vegeta nodded to her, and then turned back to his opponent.

"Fine then. This is the form that made the god of Universe Six take a cat-nap," Vegeta said with a smirk. He flooded himself with energy, his aura brightening and becoming stark and clean. His hair lightened several shades. Most importantly, his fighting ki shot up. Maizcal whistled in appreciation.

"Second Stage Div… Blue," the god said, nodding. "Not bad at all. Yeah, that would be enough for an out-of-shape god who pops burritos like breath mints, but not for me. Not even close. You're right – without transforming, I'm actually one of the weakest of the gods. But after I transform?"

Without warning, the building began to shake. Internally generated vibrations. No actual seismic activity detected. Error: Ki frequency sensors of all wavelengths have saturated. Readings suspended. The former prince's eyes widened as he watched an aura of intense purple energy, shot through with gold lightning, surround the god. Slowly, Maizcal's hair and eyes became the same shade as the aura; the same shade as the Energy of Destruction itself.

"There is only one possible name for this form," Maizcal said. A manic grin had overtaken his face as the transformation concluded. The shaking gradually subsided. Waves of crackling violet ki washed across the room and against the walls, flowing out from the god's form. Estimated fighting strength is at three-quarters of the lowest threshold associated with angelic beings. "I am a Super Saiyan God of Destruction."

"This is…" Vegeta trailed off, staring at the god. "There isn't anything more powerful, is there?"

"Maybe Ultra Instinct? I don't know," Maizcal said. He shrugged, suddenly wearing a rueful grin. "I've never had the temperament to try it. For Saiyans like us? Yeah, this is it. It may look cool, and it's really powerful, but it's also kind of boring. There literally is nowhere to go from here."

"Except down," Reis' voice said over the loudspeaker.

"I get the impression that she doesn't like you," Vegeta said.

"Yeah, we're not exactly on good terms right now," Maizcal said quietly. "Anyway, did you still want to fight?"

"Of course," Vegeta said. He dropped briefly into his regular offensive stance, and then launched himself directly at the god. It was obvious from the start that his attacks were doing absolutely nothing. Even the evolved form of Blue barely allowed him to touch the god, and when he did he was doing no damage at all. Without warning, Maizcal blurred. Vegeta suddenly found his mouth slammed shut, his feet swept out from under him, and the wind knocked out of him simultaneously. His hair faded to black as he dropped to the alloy tiles face-first.

"I was holding back on that one," Maizcal said, stepping away from the former prince. Vegeta staggered to his feet, transformed back into evolved Blue, and charged in once again. This time, Maizcal didn't dodge. He let the blows strike, placidly watching as if he was outside enjoying a spring rainfall. After a minute or so, Vegeta stopped.

"I can't hurt you with strikes," he said, panting. "So how about this?"

He flew into the air, hands out at his sides. Apprehension was appropriate. This attack may have the power to breach the room structure. Running experimental protocol Jericho. The projection of Twelve vanished, and then the walls began to glow with a subtle green hue. Two massive ki charges formed on Vegeta's hands as the god looked up at him with curiosity.

"If you don't feel this one, I'm retiring. GOD FINAL FLASH!" Vegeta shouted. A massive flare of power ejected toward Maizcal, filling the room with so much light that Bulma and Trunks in the control room had to shield their eyes. Supplemental force shielding is holding better than expected. It uses all of the kinetic projectors and requires major electricity expenditure, but it is still far cheaper than repairs. When the attack finally ended, Maizcal stood in the middle of a giant ring of soot on the tiles beneath him. His clothing, the jeweled mantle and pants that were the only nod toward tradition he usually made, were untouched. He was also completely uninjured. "God dammit."

"I'm not going to hold you to that one," Maizcal said. He brushed a few flakes of ash off of the mantle, and then released his transformation. "Even other gods can't stand up to this form. I'm not going to beat on you any longer."

"Yeah, I'm done," Vegeta said with a sigh. He looked subdued, almost thoughtful. "If you've got that kind of power, why are you asking me to do it? I don't buy that it's just that stupid mirror."

"The universe is malformed," a light tenor said over the loudspeakers. In the control room, Bulma shot a startled glance at the Kai, as if she had forgotten that the creator deity was capable of speech. "It cannot sustain godly ki, and so hungers for it. Any divine being that comes in contact will first have their energy depleted, and then will slowly become insane. I narrowly escaped this fate myself."

"Wait," Vegeta said. He turned to regard the Kai, eyes narrowed. "Does that include mortals that can use godly ki as well?"

"Yes, unfortunately," the Kai said. "But only if you tap into it. If you use only mortal techniques and transformations, you'll be safe. I think."

"You think," Vegeta repeated.

"What he says is true," Reis said quietly. "As long as you do not use any of the Super Saiyan God forms, you can safely move around the corrupted universe."

"Thanks, Reis," the Kai said, gratitude plain in his voice. "I can also use my abilities to teleport you into specific points within the universe, and also pull you back out. As long as I'm not physically in contact with the anomaly, there won't be a problem."

"So Reis flies us there," Vegeta mused. "The Kai… what's your name?"

"Atua, Sir," the Kai said respectfully. Vegeta snorted.

"Reis flies us there, Atua transports us in and out," Vegeta said. He turned to Maizcal. "What do you do?"

"Stand guard?" Maizcal said, shrugging. "The whole council idea, tapping you as the lead… pretty much all Reis. I'm just a figurehead right now."

"I… see," Vegeta said, shooting the other Saiyan a dubious glance. "Who am I leading, by the way? You better not hand me a bunch of lowlifes or scum. I spent half of my life leading that, and I've had enough."

"One of Quitela's guys, one of Heles…" Maizcal said. Reis interrupted him.

"Maizcal-sama, do you not remember their names?" Reis demanded. The god opened his mouth, and then closed it, his face turning red. He shook his head. "Harmira from Universe Two. Ganos from Universe Four. Lavender from Universe Nine. On standby, there is Hit from Universe Six and the entirety of the Pride Troopers from Universe Eleven."

"Harmira… the sniper, I remember him," Vegeta muttered. "Ganos. The guy with bird legs. Not a bad fighter. Lavend… him?!"

"I know, the other gods tried to talk Sidra out of it," Maizcal said. "You're stuck with him. But I think he might prove useful."

"If he doesn't have a break with reality and kill us all first," Vegeta said. "Seriously, how did these people get picked? What kind of faulty system is at work here?"

"It's called a meeting. A long one, with lots of dumb politics," Bulma said. "At least, that's my guess."

"You are correct. Very long," Reis said. "Very dumb."

SIDRA

"Mohito, didn't I destroy that planet a month ago?" Sidra asked. The planet in question hung in front of them, sad and dejected, like a moldy piece of citrus fruit against the star-filled void. The two of them were following its orbit, staying within sight range.

"You did, Sidra-sama," the tall angel said.

"Why has it returned?" the god asked. Mohito held up one finger, and then stared into the focusing crystal on his staff. After a short silence, he turned back to the bearded god.

"This is the third instance of this event being reported since the council ended," Mohito said. "Similar reappearances have also occurred in Universes One and Three."

"I'm guessing that I cannot destroy it?" Sidra asked.

"Iwan-sama attempted to do so with his own troubled planet, and was unable," Mohito said.

"First those random small manifestations, and now this," Sidra groused. "I wonder if Zeno-sama missed a spot when he erased Fifteen in the first place."

"Zeno-sama does not miss," Mohito said politely. "There is likely another cause at play."

"I'd love to know what it is," Sidra said. "If more planets start reappearing, we're going to be in trouble. Those planets were destroyed for a good reason. Most of them, anyway."

"I'm aware, Sidra-sama," Mohito said drily. "We need to be patient, and allow the team that was decided on to make their move. But until then, a reappearing planet means more work for you. There is, as always, a balance to maintain."

"I have to get rid of more planets, to make up for the ones that won't stay dead?" Sidra said. He glared at his attendant. "How exactly is this fair?"

"It's not," Mohito said bluntly. He glanced at his staff's focusing crystal. "I have a list of nearby candidates ready for you."

"Fine," Sidra said with a sigh. "Mortal index, descending. If we're all going to go to hell, we can at least do it by the book."

BULMA

The inside of the shipping container was dark. It took several minutes before she was able to locate the false wall she'd had installed. The hidden keypad appeared just in time for her to hear the voices of her husband and their deific visitors approaching. Come on. Accept the PIN. Come on. Dammit, who invented this thing? After an agonizing few seconds, the keypad acknowledged her code and the wall itself swung open. Oh, that's right. I invented it. Apparently to give my future self a heart attack. As the wall slid closed behind her, soft lighting turned on. The small room had a makeshift desk and chair and a compact but comfortable cot. Various other household sundries, in compact form, lined the walls. Her personal spacesuit hung by the door, fitted with one of the new production model atmosphere generators. This is possibly the sneakiest thing I've ever done, but there's no way I'm letting Vegeta go alone on this one. I won't lie, it's not all concern. My inner child is peeing herself over being the first scientist to observe a 'corrupted' universe.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden noise under the cot. She blinked. A mouse? A roach? There's no way there's anything bigger than that – I had this mobile container assembled twenty minutes ago! Glancing around, she was gratified to see the small fire extinguisher mounted on the wall near the entrance. Removing it from its holder and holding it almost like a rifle, she slowly tiptoed toward the cot, all senses on high alert. The thing underneath it made another noise, almost like something scrabbling on the concrete floor below. Then, it moved. Bulma saw only a flash of blue before she shrieked and reacted on instinct.

"Mo-" Trunks started to say, but was interrupted by a commercial grade three-way extinguisher slamming into the top of his skull at high speed. He sat down hard on the cot, yelling and grabbing at his head. You're fucking kidding me. Bulma put the extinguisher on the cot and then immediately put her hand over her son's mouth, making a shushing noise.

"Did you hear something?" Atua's voice came muffled through the walls of the container. "It sounded like there was something inside of there."

"Those are brand new. You're hearing things," Vegeta's disdainful voice carried through the hull. "Let's get going."

Back in the container, mother and son were glaring at each other, Trunks with slightly more ferocity due to the growing lump on his skull.

"What in the hell are you doing?" Bulma hissed.

"I'm going with Dad," Trunks replied, quietly but firmly.

"No, I'm going with him," Bulma said. "You're staying right here, mister."

"No I'm not," Trunks said defiantly. "You try to kick me out, I'll start yelling."

"You… you little…" Bulma almost choked on her words. My own son is extorting me. I want to hit him again with the extinguisher, but… I'm also a little proud. I would have done the same thing, not that Dad would ever smuggle himself into space. "Fine. But you better not get in my way, or end up needing a rescue."

"Mom, I'm like six orders of magnitude more powerful than you," Trunks said. "And this universe we're going to doesn't have any god-level threats. I can make a difference here."

"How did you get in here, anyway?" Bulma asked.

"I hacked the keypad," Trunks said with a grin. "You always use the same encryption. I mean, it's pretty good, but it's predictable."

"So that's why it took so long to authenticate," she said. Extortion and hacking. I swear, he ended up with Vegeta's attitude and my brains. It's a dangerous combination.

"I already saw you going in the other side of the container. I didn't have much time," Trunks admitted. "I mean, I had to figure out ki suppression too, in like ten minutes. You're pretty hard to fool, but Dad's even harder."

With a jolt, the container's thrusters activated and it began to ascend. Bulma sat on the desk's office chair and eyed the fresh laptop she'd had installed.

"I almost feel like I'm raising a spy right now," Bulma said.

"We literally had the same idea at the same time," Trunks said. His infuriating grin had returned. "Don't blame me, I inherited it from you."

"Trunks Briefs, that is not fair and you know it," Bulma said, trying to sound serious. She managed to hold it together for almost ten seconds before she started laughing. How many times did I pull this kind of thing on people when I was younger? How often am I still doing it now? Who am I kidding – I love this kid. Without warning, she swooped in, hugged the young half-Saiyan, and planted a kiss on his forehead. Before he could react, she returned to the desk and activated the laptop. Now, let's see if Twelve's databases have any extra information on Universe Fifteen.

Behind her, red-cheeked, with a growing bruise on his scalp and lipstick on his forehead, her son stared at her back with an unreadable look. Thoroughly scandalized, he gave up on further conversation and pulled out his cell phone.

SIGMA TWELVE

Damage to the training room is minimal. I have upgraded the Jericho protocol to finalized status, pending code optimization. New information gathered on the deities of Universe Fifteen should allow for more complete emulation of god-level opposing forces. Satisfactory prod… the other primary has arrived. External door access. Internal door access.

"Hey, Twelve!" Goku said. He wore a friendly grin as he walked into the console room, looking around eagerly. Primary Son Goku is the only being who actually greets me upon entering this room. "It's weird, you know? I train with you all of the time, but you're the only person I can't use instant transmission with. I was doing something for Chi-chi, got here as soon as I could."

"I apologize for the inconvenience," Twelve said. "To manifest ki, I would need a mortal body. I have no interest in physical inhabitation."

"That's okay. I don't mind at all," Goku said. He walked over to the reinforced glass and peered into the training room, puzzled. "Bulma said they had a Saiyan god here. The room is empty though. No wonder I couldn't sense anyone's energy."

"They have already left," Twelve said.

"I… can't sense their energy anywhere," Goku said in a disappointed tone.

"It is probable that they have already crossed the universal boundary," Twelve said. "If it is any consolation, I have video footage of the brief fight between Vegeta and Maizcal."

"Better than nothing," Goku said with a shrug. "Twelve, was that really a Saiyan God of Destruction?"

"Confirmed. The god Maizcal meets those criteria. Furthermore, he is capable of a transformation I have registered as Super Saiyan (Hakai-Fused)," Twelve said. Goku's eyes widened.

"I have to see the video. Can you play it on the glass wall?" Goku asked.

"Affirmative. Please take a seat," Twelve replied. The Saiyan did so, kicking his feet up on the console itself. As Twelve began the playback, Goku interrupted him.

"Twelve, do you have any popcorn?" Goku asked. No hidden meanings detected. No euphemisms. Presence of encryption highly improbable. This is… an actual request.

"No," said Twelve.