Goku's journey continues with the golden clouds expanding ever outward and the path before him winding ever onward into the distance. Every step, every moment spent on this road, takes him farther from home, but he does not know if each one is actually bringing him closer to saving it. Distance and time fuse indistinguishably together in his limbo reality between Heaven and Hell.
And just like the scenery, every day perfectly mirrors the one before it. Alternating between running until exhaustion and walking to rest before finally collapsing into a sleep. Then waking up to repeat the same process over and over again. The only difference between each day is his panting breaths inhaling deeper and his throbbing legs feeling heavier.
While his body aches against the physicality, his mind struggles with detracting negativity. When everything was new, fun thoughts like whether or not the golden veil of clouds is a giant Flying Nimbus danced through his head. But now his mind is plagued with worry and doubt. How long had he been traveling? How far had he gotten? How much longer, how much farther? Could his body endure the distance? Would his mind conquer the time?
The physical tiredness and mental weariness are now infecting one another compounding each other's toxicity. They work together against him with only his courage to face them in order to save his family and friends keeping him going. He wants to, practically needs to, believe this is some kind of training. Surely the taxing exercise and maddening thoughts are a test of his body's stamina and mind's fortitude. But between the weighted clothes Kami brought him to Other World in and King Kai's endless Snake Way, things were starting to feel like some big cosmic joke between the deities.
His foot steps over the edge of the divine road sending his leg down the rough, scaly side of the structure. With thoughts racing out of their cycling torture, his attention fixates on the danger of falling off his only path to success. He squeezes his legs together which are now doing a side split around the curvature of the snake. His torso is nearly perpendicular to the body of the behemoth.
He presses his arms and chest against the surface to create as much friction as possible to slow his slide. Miraculously he comes to a stop. Slowly, he slithers his arms up the scraping scales without breaking contact with the stone. His hands find the lip at the top, and he pulls himself up. Gasping for air on his knees, he takes a moment to chastise himself with a couple frustrated punches to his thighs.
"How could I be so stupid?" he says through gritted teeth and swelling cheeks. "I can't afford to zone out like that."
He rises to his feet and starts again still unaware that his efforts are being observed. Gathered in front of a mirror, three humanoid figures wearing similar robes watch the Saiyan as one would watch a pet hamster running in a wheel.
"You see West Kai. I told you I had a good feeling about this one," says the tallest of them in a deep voice. The sunglasses he is wearing look extra dark against his pink skin. "I know a determined soul when I see one."
"More like simple minded," says the figure being addressed. He is the shortest of the three. The purple skin of his face rumples into a frown. "He's just too stupid to give up. And I'm not going to waste anymore of my time on such a pitiful creature."
The monocle wearing member turns away from the mirror to leave.
"Either way," says the first, "a bet's a bet. It's been three weeks since he started. So pay up."
"I believe my exact words were 'he won't last more than three weeks.' Right South Kai? So that means he has one day left." says West Kai stopping to look over his shoulder.
"Come on dear boy," says South Kai. "Don't be a sore loser."
The third member of their groups, and only female, steps in.
"Honestly, I can't believe you boys are betting on the poor man," she says. Her skin is a pale yellow and she wears sunglasses as well. "He is trying so desperately to save his home from destruction and you two are trying to make a quick buck at his expense."
"I don't care what his reason is East Kai," shouts her western counterpart looking up at her. "He has no business being among the heavenly deities. Why do you think North Kai has that ridiculous Snake Way in the first place? It's to keep out riffraff like that Saiyan."
"Relax," says East Kai. "You and I both know he won't make it passed the Trial of Temptation anyway. No one ever does. So there's no real harm in letting him try at least is there?"
"Hey, uh, East Kai," says South Kai. "I'd be willing to wager double what old Westy here owes me on this guy passing the Trial of Temptation. What do you say to that?"
"What do you take me for?" she exclaims. "I'm a principled woman who would never take advantage of someone else's unfortunate circumstances."
She crosses her arms defiantly. South Kai pats a coin purse at his side. The sound of jingling coins rings out several times.
"Then again," East Kai reconsiders. "If he is going to inevitably fail anyway, it would be unwise not to capitalize on such an opportunity. Yes the outcome is certain. No one can resist a temptation like that, and I could use an expensive spa day. You're on South Kai."
"Excellent," he says with just a smile.
"Forget it," says West Kai. "He won't even make it to the trial."
The midget waddles over to the mirror and taps it with his finger. Ripples move outward across the glass from where he touched it.
"Just what are you playing at?" demands East Kai.
"Oh something much more entertaining than a bet," says West Kai.
He gives a sinister glare through his monocle at the malformed image of Goku running in the mirror's still rippling surface.
…
Gohan awakes in a place he does not remember falling asleep. He shoots up to a sitting position with his head frantically surveying the surroundings. A sharp pain stabs at his palms. He looks them over after verifying there is no immediate danger. Blisters and small gashes disfigure the soft fleshy skin of his hands and fingers. His white undershirt is in tatters while the nice jacket he started in has long since been destroyed. His green dress pants are in no better shape.
He finds himself on a cliff jutting out of a mountainous structure. He crawls slowly to its edge despite the pain in his palms with the fear of falling overcoming it. A quick peek is all he needs to see that he is at a dangerous height. He slips away as fast as is safe and sits with his back against the mountainside. He gazes up and sees it is about the same distance to the top as it probably would be to the ground.
He starts to get dizzy looking up so high and closes his eyes. He squeezes them tightly trying to force the memory of how he got up here into view. He remembers gathering food, berries from a tree. Then the feeling of fear and sense of running for his life cloud the rest of the recollection. Clearly something scared him to the point of blacking out, but how did he get on a cliff this high?
Because unbeknownst to you, you have a fearsome hidden power, Piccolo's words echo forth in his mind. You're the one who defeated the alien that kidnapped you.
Could I really have an inner strength I don't know about? Gohan thinks. I did blackout when I saw the alien attacking my mom. And then the next thing I knew, he was lying on the ground. My dad always talks about training his ki and says I can do it to. Maybe I do have a hidden power that brought me all the way up here.
He opens his eyes at the realization.
"But how much force would it take to get up here?" he thinks aloud. "If I weigh about forty pounds and need enough acceleration to work against gravity and come up with an estimated distance from the ground…"
He trails off as he starts to puzzle out the math. He uses a fingernail to etch notes into the dirt of the cliff.
"And assuming ki works anything like electricity which needs a current and pressure to do work. Then I should be able to figure out how much power I must output to make it up here."
Gohan stands up and looks down at his equations. He checks the math one more time in his head. With no safe way to climb up or down, there is nothing else to do but practice using ki. He takes a martial arts stance his father taught him. He works his body through a familiar routine while visualizing his life force flowing through him as a series of scientific formulas from the textbooks his mom wants him to study.
…
Piccolo waits. His beady eyes dart around in their sockets searching for something in the dwindling daylight. The index and middle fingers of his right hand are pressed against the center of his forehead. He does not even notice their sharp nails digging into his skin.
"Where are you?" he whispers.
His chest heaves for air. Injuries mark his body, most of them leaking a purple liquid.
"There!" he shouts.
He turns to face a ki he senses spring into existence and rapidly grow in strength. He begins charging power in the fingertips on his forehead. An orange electric aura sparks from the focal point. A steady growl rises in pitch as he pumps ki as quickly as he can into the tiny area. It threatens to burst outward from the small, imaginary container he mentally tries to hold the pressure in.
As he does, his doppelganger charges an orange sphere crackling with energy between its palms in front of its chest. Piccolo feels his adversary's power peak meaning the attack was about to fire. The double shoves its arms forward launching the orb as big as its torso.
The ki ball rushes towards Piccolo, but his own attack is not ready yet. He braces for failure once again without backing down. He screams in agony trying to funnel the last of his strength into the technique. Just a second more and his fingers feel heavy with an invisible mass and tingling sensation. He laughs hysterically and thrusts his right arm straight ahead. The nails of his two extended fingers practically scratch the surface of the incoming energy sphere as he lets loose his beam.
"Makankosappo!" he shouts.
An orange light with a violet tint smashes against the crackling orb spraying over its rounded exterior. The impact pushes Piccolo backward with his feet sliding across the ground and his arm buckling at the elbow. He digs in his heels and pushes from the shoulder.
The beam from his fingers slows down the ball and even sinks a minor depression into its surface. Piccolo inhales deeply before uttering a final expulsion of strained air. A second beam coiling around the first spirals forth.
It makes contact with the target drilling straight into it. Its rapid twisting tears through the opposing attack blowing out the back of it. Piccolo's clone is taken by surprise at the first successful attempt and barely dodges the piercing laser barreling at him. It strikes a mountain miles in the distance setting off an explosion. A cloud of smoke and debris billows up from a newly formed crater atop the rocky formation.
"Wow, it's even more powerful than we had hoped," says the doppelganger. It smiles rawly at the site of destruction. "Still needs some work though. Takes too much time to prepare the ki for it. Not to mention the huge drain on our reserves."
"Well between me working on ki sensing and channeling my active ki," responds Piccolo, "and you practicing ki suppression and drawing it out quickly from it's passive state, I'd say we've improved substantially from where the technique was."
"I suppose," says the double. "But what irony it is to nearly perfect your trump card for killing Goku to protect the world you once intended to take over. What would our dear father think of that I wonder?"
"Enough prattling about such useless trifle," says Piccolo. "The Demon King is dead. He had his chance. Now it's my turn, and I'll do things my way. Besides, there won't be a planet to take over if it's destroyed."
"Whatever you say. You're in charge," mocks the copy.
"Good, now let's go check on the boy," Piccolo says assertively.
The two merge together and fly off. Piccolo searches for Gohan which is becoming slightly easier as the child's ki signature has increased since he first brought him here, even if only a little. However, he does not expect to find Gohan on a cliffside the boy could not have possibly climbed on his own. He sees the child huddled in a fetal position against the cold of the coming evening.
Oh great, now he's stuck on a mountain? Piccolo fumes to himself. He has no food or water and no way down. Do I really have to save his worthless life? Maybe I was wrong believing he could be trained into a warrior.
While Piccolo deliberates over what to do, Gohan stands up from his defeated position. He yawns and stretches for a moment. Then he forms his body into a martial arts pose. As the kid dances rhythmically through various stances gracefully transitioning from one to the next, Piccolo feels a slight rise in his power level with every held position. At the end of the routine, Gohan's ki returns to its barely detectable level. The boy curls up once more for the night and does not stir again.
"Well, well. You have some potential after all," says Piccolo.
The next morning, Gohan opens his eyes to see something strange. Three deep red apples are sitting on his cliffside. He looks around for a fruit tree he might have missed, but there is no sign of one. He eagerly picks one up and bites into it.
"Yeck!"
He nearly spits out the mouthful of sour food. He puckers hard to avoid wasting any of the valuable juices knowing he needs the hydration. It is not easy, but he stomachs the rest of it and the other two. For a moment a nauseous lump rises up his esophagus but eventually settles.
Piccolo watches from afar to see what Gohan will do since he cannot survive for very long on a few apples. He starts from his position adrift in the air as the boy examines the rockface for hand and footholds.
"Eh, he's not going to try and climb to the top is he?" says Piccolo. He hovers closer to the unfolding event.
Gohan begins moving slowly upward one hand and foot at a time. When it does not appear like the top is getting any closer, he decides to look over his shoulder to check his progress not believing he could have made it that far yet. To his surprise, he already reached a lethal falling height back to the platform he left. Not that it matters anymore since his uneven climbing caused him to drift further off course than he realized. The original cliff he started from was not even beneath him now.
This was a bad idea. How could I have been so stupid? he reprimands himself.
Gohan freezes in place, and a cold wind gusts across the mountainside. What should he do now? His body feels tired and sore from having made it practically nowhere. There is no way he can climb to the top. He decides to head back to the ledge he began on and reaches out a leg for a foothold.
"Not there you idiot," yells Piccolo hastily flying forward.
But Gohan does not hear the warning and puts his weight on a questionable rock. It crumbles immediately. Gohan feels a queasy sensation as his body drops. He swings wildly over open air with just his right hand holding on. Adrenaline pumps into his veins as his fight or flight response fills him with an exhilarating anxiety.
I'm gonna' die. I'm gonna' die.
"I'M GOING TO DIE!"
His vision begins to blacken as a dark red sets in. For a moment he wants to give in to the blackness. He could just let the alluring ease take him. His left hand scrambles reflexively to get a grip on something, anything. His fingers find a crevice and latch on tight.
Hope renews in his mind joining alongside his survival instinct. Together they push back the temptation of fear and doubt. A power he does not recognize takes control of his body. His consciousness steps back in his mind leaving him to watch himself through his own eyes like windows to the outside. He is now merely a spectator.
His legs push off the rocky face lifting him up to a thin ledge. His hands leapfrog him over the top of it so his legs can jump again. In this manner, his body scales the rest of the cliffside until he reaches the top. The whole time his mind experiences the turbulence of the trip as if he rides in some kind of vehicle.
His breathing is the first thing he becomes aware of returning to his command. Air rushes in and out of his lungs at a steady pace. He tests his fingers by rolling them in and out of his palms. Finally, he looks over his whole body verifying it belongs to him once again.
Having witnessed enough, Piccolo flies off. A strange unease dissipates from his gut as he leaves. One he cannot determine the source of.
"Heh … heh," Gohan laughs between breaths not sure what to make of the phenomenon he just experienced.
He checks out the mountaintop. It is bigger than the ledge he used to be on but not much bigger than the square footage of his home.
"I guess I'm stuck here now," he says. "Huh, I thought there'd be an apple tree up here."