Goku stands atop the stone head of a snake monument. Its height exceeds even the tallest point of his spiky hair. He gazes out into an endless sea of golden clouds below the body of the snake. The scaly coils wind innumerably beyond the horizon in gentle, giant strokes. A flat strip runs along the back of the snake creating a path for traversal. Sharp ridges line either side to discourage getting too close to the edge.
"Welcome to Snake Way," says an oni wearing glasses. He stands at the base of the snake head looking up at Goku. "You'll find King Kai at the very end of it if you can complete the journey."
"Woah!" exclaims Goku. "How long is it?"
"No one really knows because no one has ever made it all the way to the end," says the oni. "I do have one warning for you before you go."
Goku turns back to his guide with a quizzical look on his face. He barely notices a quick, ominous reflection of light across the lenses of the ogre's glasses.
"Do not leave the path for any reason," continues the oni. "Those golden clouds are actually an impassable veil that separates Heaven from Hell. Should you fall below it, you will not be able to return. Understood?"
"Got it. Thanks for the tip," Goku says. "Am I free to go then?"
"Yep. Good luck."
Goku takes one last look at the back of King Yemma's palace in the distance. Then he darts down the infinite road across the heavens. Unbeknownst to him, a mysterious being watches his efforts to sprint to the end of the serpentine path through a mirror.
"So this is the Saiyan attempting Snake Way," says the figure gazing into the mirror. "It should be interesting to watch his progress. He seems stronger than the others. I wonder if he'll get farther than them?"
…
Vegeta, Nappa, and Raditz leave a conference room in route to their ships to leave for their mission. The debriefing meeting they just finished was the same old routine. They were given all available intel, objectives to complete, and a reminder to keep their scouters in transmission mode at all times. What had not been routine was the topic of Dragon Balls. In all their time spent conquering planets, the Saiyans heard many tall tales and myths from a myriad of cultures. None of them piqued their supreme commander's interest enough to want to thoroughly follow up on them. Vegeta wondered what made this one different. What could a person like Freeza, who has everything, possibly want with a wish.
"A wish granting dragon huh," says Nappa. "So Vegeta, if these things are real, what wish would you make?"
Vegeta does not look back to answer his comrade.
"I'm not interested in chasing a child's fairy tale. I would rather find out more about how our targets are able to manipulate their battle powers."
The practical response deflates Nappa's whimsical musings. Ever the pragmatist, his leader never wants to engage in any of his imaginative pursuits.
"Hey Raditz, how about you?" he calls back over his shoulder.
"Since when do you care what I think?" shoots back Raditz.
"Ah come on. Someone with nothing to his name surely wants to wish for something."
Raditz scowls at his partner for only addressing him when it suits his own interests. If he were being honest, he would wish to be rid of this life of ridicule and servitude. But he cannot say that, so he says the most Saiyan thing he can think of.
"I guess I'd wish for immortality. That way I could fight forever."
"Not bad. Yeah I rather like the sound of that," says Nappa. "If it were me though, I'd probably wish for our homeworld and all its people to come back. I miss commanding a full Saiyan battalion into battle. We could even see your father again, right Vegeta?"
The Prince gives no indication of the remark affecting him. Nappa thought for sure bringing up his heritage and legacy would get him into the conversation. But the silence becomes more suffocating with every second. He decides not to push the idea any further.
…
Alone in a deserted wasteland, a barely four and a half year old Gohan sits exposed and vulnerable in the open. He has not moved from the spot his most recent kidnapper left him in as the daunting task of survival looms overhead. Instead of worrying about his basic biological needs, he yearns to be safe at home with his parents. They would never let any of the horrors this terrible place hides hurt him.
"Don't forget to wear sunscreen," he can almost hear his mom say.
Eventually his throat dries up and his stomach begins growling. He gets to his feet and starts walking in a random direction.
What would dad do at a time like this? he thinks.
He pictures his father's face smiling as he tells him about the time he caught the biggest fish of his life by hand when he was a boy living alone on a mountain. And almost as if the memory conjured up the real thing, the sound of moving water ripples into his ear. He hurries over the crest of a hill and finds a river wider than it is deep.
He allows himself for just a moment to think that Piccolo must have at least dropped him off near a source of water to help him survive.
Maybe I can do this. Maybe this will be my own adventure like the ones my dad told me about his childhood. And I'll have some for him when I see him again.
…
Elsewhere not far from where he left Gohan, Piccolo begins his training. He can barely sense the tiny ki of the boy. To anyone besides Goku, it would be impossible to differentiate the child's life force from the larger animals roaming the wilderness. But to Piccolo, it is unmistakable after feelings its full ferocity during the battle against the alien invader.
It is hard to imagine the timid aura can erupt into such a terrifying rage. For now, it seems to have calmed down from its initial heightened stress. Should he feel its emotional state spike with fear, he knows he is close enough to rescue Gohan if necessary.
Piccolo starts to groan in agony as his body swells and bulges. A copy of him rips its way out of him like a bug molting its shell. It pulls one arm and one leg free from within their equivalent appendages. Then a second head leans forward out of his own. Piccolo stretches his neck backward to hurry the process. The sound of tissue tearing accompanies the grotesque scene. The right half of the new body steps forward to further the fission between itself and its original. With one last guttural yell from both Piccolos, they fully separate into distinct and complete beings. Both of them breathe deeply from the exhausting operation. After a few more inhales, the second Piccolo finally speaks.
"You must be pretty desperate to bring me out for training," the identical replica says.
"Can you think of a better training partner than myself?" chuckles the original.
"I suppose you're right," says the other Piccolo. "Even divided this way, we are still probably stronger than anyone else on the planet."
"Yeah but not for long with the Saiyans coming," says Piccolo.
"Does that really matter? Goku's dead. Your revenge has been carried out. Why bother training at all?"
"He'll be back soon enough. And probably a lot stronger too. Once we deal with the Saiyans, I'll challenge him to a rematch and kill him for good myself."
"Challenge him to a rematch?" echoes the clone. "Kill him yourself? Why does it matter if you kill him or not as long as he's dead. You're purpose is to avenge the Demon King's death. Honestly, you should be stopping his friends from wishing him back to life."
"I'm not just my father's tool!" shouts Piccolo. "I'm going to kill Goku on my own terms damn it!"
"Oh, is that a twinge of pride from having lost to him in the tournament?" mocks the copy. "It almost sounds like you've developed a little respect for Goku."
"Enough talking. It's time to train!"
Piccolo lunges forward to begin a sparring match.
"Whatever you say," quips the clone knowingly and readying himself for battle.
The two Piccolos tear apart the landscape with ki blasts and colliding melee attacks. They move so fast, a normal human would mistake the mild cataclysm they induce for a mere natural disaster. Though they take periodic breaks, the scrimmage lasts until dusk.
"Alright, that's enough for today," calls Piccolo.
"Sure, better check on the brat and make sure it's okay," says the copy with a hint of sarcasm. "I'd bet he's hiding under a rock somewhere and calling for his mommy. Heh heh."
They walk towards one another as one would approach a reflection in a mirror. Just as they are about to bump together, they pass into each other. For a brief moment there is a confusion of fluttering caps and swaying limbs, but ultimately one being emerges out of the clutter.
He floats away from the dirt and grit below him until he is high enough Gohan will not easily notice him. He then glides casually to where he senses the boy's presence unable to go much faster after the exhausting exercise. Half expecting his counterpart to be right, a bit of astonishment takes hold of him when he looks upon all that Gohan has done on his first day.
An extremely basic shelter consisting of woven together sticks and mud leans up against a tree by the riverbank.
Heh, that thing'll never make it through the first storm it sees, Piccolo thinks. Oh well, he'll learn that soon enough like I did.
His eyes search for Gohan and spot him walking along the shore of the river.
So you found water, but how will you carry it when you go searching for food?
Gohan eventually stops before a tree with vines twirling around its trunk all the way up to its branches. Hanging from these vines are hourglass shaped gourds. Piccolo watches the boy look from the fruiting bodies to the water and back. He sees the child's face light up with realization.
Gohan grabs the lowest hanging gourd and finds it harder to pull off than he expected. He tries again with both hands and pushes off the trunk with one foot. He gives it one big yank. Nothing. He gives it one more with even greater force. Snap! It pops off, and he tumbles backwards onto his butt.
Piccolo cannot help but smile at the embarrassing yet endearing incident. Gohan picks himself up, rubs his butt, and checks his tail for injury. Then he is quickly tugging on another gourd. After getting three more, he looks around himself. Seeing something he likes, he trots over to a large rock with uneven contours.
Gohan feels along its surface for a jagged point. Upon finding one, he holds a gourd over it. He tries to puncture the very top of the seed pod by slamming it down from above his head. The shell is too tough for him to do it on his own. He picks up a rock and tries to use it like a hammer by smacking it into the bottom of the gourd. A few good whacks later, he cracks a big enough hole into it for the seeds to fit through. He does this for the remaining three as well.
With a small stick, he begins scraping around inside each of them to hollow out the stringy innards. Then he is off to the shallowest part of the river to fill them up. After doing so, he presses two gourds in each arm against his chest. He walks to his shelter careful not to spill a drop.
A touch of admiration smolders inside Piccolo as he watches the whole process. He knows the kid could have easily given up at any point, but he kept going and solving problems. He grabs hold of an identical gourd at his hip. He plucks a cork from the top of it and raises the container to his lips. After a few mouthfuls, he returns it to his side. Then he flies off to rest for the night.