DISCLAIMER: I do not own Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z, Dragon Ball GT, Dragon Ball Super or Dragon Ball Heroes.

WARNING: This fic assumes you've played through the story missions of Dragon Ball FighterZ and have seen the Broly Triple Threat trilogy! If you have done only one or the other, than you WILL be confused!

For anyone curious, here's my writing method.

"Character talking."

"Character Thoughts."

"Attack Name!"


Chapter 2: Something Different, Something In-Saiyan.

Several minutes later…

The tapping of keys echoes through the acoustic underground chamber, echoing around the thousands of clone vats as Twenty-One typed away at the console next to Broly's vat.

A strange tenseness hung in the air. Those that fought against the Legendary Super Saiyan years ago were torn, a monster and irredeemable murderer floated in the green vat before them; but at the same time, their friend they had got to know and cherish over the entire course of the ki-dampening waves and the clones attacking the planet…

He was in there, and judging from how easily the soul slipped into the body, it clearly had to be his.

There was no getting around it, the amnesiac soul that had aided them in their time of need was a clone of the destroyer of South Galaxy, Broly.

Steam blew away from the vat in every direction as the locks unlatch, an ominous hissing noise heralding the tank opening as the liquid inside drained into the floor. While the steam cleared in the massive room, the clone stood with one hand on the tank, leaning against it for support. Unlike the clones made by Twenty-One, this one had been crafted with Doctor Gero's supercomputers, resulting in a near-perfect replica—

Saiyan tail included.

"Hey there." Goku says, trying to sound chipper. "How're ya feeling?"

"T-tired…" Broly says, his voice gentle and quiet. "I feel… tired."

"Well." Vegeta says, uncrossing his arms and walking forward. "Let's get you to Capsule Corp. then, I imagine your body hasn't gotten any real sleep in who knows how long."

"Thank… you…"

Those are the last words the Z-Fighters hear from him before he passes out, collapsing into Vegeta's arms and staggering him a little. The snickering behind the Prince of Saiyans brought out bulging veins on his blushing face.

"Shut up Triclops, now help me carry him! He's heavy."


Several hours later…

"This is coffee." Bulma says, a steaming mug in her and Broly's hands. The clone had woken up in her bed; a long sleeved white shirt, a pair of baggy brown pants, and wooden sandals all in his size had been given to him as soon as he woke.

His tail was moving instinctively, furling and unfurling at random intervals behind him.

"Cof…fee…?" Broly says slowly, tasting the word in his mouth before tasting the drink in his hand. "It's bitter."

"I can get some cream and sugar if you want, make it sweeter?"

"No… I like it…"

The two of them nursed their drinks in companionable silence, with Bulma checking her phone every time it dings with a new message. Broly, however, had his eyes on Vegeta, who had been continuously running around the living room in a fresh tank top and pair of shorts, lifting various furniture at random. He even at one point ran up and lifted the couch Broly was sitting on, with the cloned Saiyan doing his best to stop his steaming cup from spilling.

"Ah HA!" Vegeta suddenly yells, holding the lazy chair by the fireplace in the air. Doctor Briefs, Vegeta's Father-in-Law and Bulma's Father-in-Blood, who was still in said chair, simply flipped to the next page of the newspaper he was reading, undisturbed by the sudden height change.

The little purple-haired bundle Vegeta pulls off the floor however, only makes happy gurgling noises as her father holds her.

"Found you, you little troublemaker!"

The giggling baby nuzzled her father as he sets her grandfather back by the fireplace.

"So, Broly." Vegeta says, plopping down on the couch next to his wife, the little bundle in his arms climbing his shoulder and pulling on his hair. "Do you have ANY memories outside of the whole Twenty-One fiasco?"

"Sorry…" Broly says. "But no…"

"It's probably for the best then."

"Vegeta!" Bulma yells, upset at his complete apathy. "We can't just leave him without—!"

"You weren't there Bulma." Vegeta says, cutting her off. "There was something fundamentally wrong about the Legendary Super Saiyan's power. It drove him insane, made him a monster."

"Well, did any of you know what we was like before he was this 'monster'?"

All Vegeta did was point across the living room table, right at the calm clone as he sipped more of his warm beverage.

"Oh, damn." Bulma says, with Vegeta making some vague noise of acknowledgment as his daughter climbed to the top of his head.

"Alright Broly, we need a plan of action here." Vegeta says, crossing his arms and leaning back into the sofa. "What do you want to do?"

"Piccolo and Tien offered to train me." Broly says, gentle and quiet. If it was anyone else, Vegeta might've blown a fuse at seeing a Saiyan so… not-Saiyan like. "I should take them up on their offers… in case anything else attacks."

"That's good, they may not be the most powerful among our group but they certainly know some dangerous techniques. I myself need to return to Lord Beerus's world for more training."

"But you just came back!" Bulma whines.

"And I was almost a detriment! The Blue form takes too much stamina too quickly; when you add ki attacks to the mix then the relatively short timer of the transformation plummets even further."

Vegeta's gaze drifts off to the side, lost in thought.

"I shouldn't have fired that Galick Gun." He mutters quietly.

"We fired it Vegeta." Broly pitches from the other couch. "The both of us."

"Bah!" The Saiyan Prince yells, standing up with his daughter firmly affixed to his widow's peak. "You have training to go start, and I have no time sitting here sulking and being sentimental!"

The living room door swings open as a bubblegum pink blur, dressed in a Capsule Corp. version of her Red Ribbon Army scientist outfit, flies into the room and literally bounces off the walls while spouting Master's Degree level math equations. Vegeta can only blink, stupefied at what he's witnessing with his own two eyes, while his wife flushed in embarrassment and pretended she had no involvement with what was currently happening.

Broly was mostly confused as to why Twenty-One was in such a hyper state, until she slammed head-first into his sternum and the both of them went toppling over the back of the couch in a tangled mass of Saiyan and Android limbs. His coffee went flying out of his hands, hastily caught by Vegeta, who wanted to avoid getting any new stains in the living room's carpet.

When the room finally stopped spinning (mostly because they stopped rolling), Broly was left with an overexcited Android sitting on his chest, her twitchy eyes standing out against her bubblegum pink skin and snow white hair.

"Are you…" Broly says slowly. "Are you okay?"

"SoinadditiontomysweettoothIcan'tseemtohandlecaffeineandI'monlybarelyholdingmyselftogether." Twenty-One says, speaking so quickly that the clone beneath her understood absolutely none of what she just said. "Howhasyourdaybeen?"

"…what?"

"Explain woman!" Vegeta yells, his daughter hanging off his ear as he turns to Bulma.

"She was asleep at her desk so I gave her a cup of coffee!" Bulma yells back. "How was I supposed to know she couldn't handle caffeine!?"

"Maybe the fact she ate a HUNDRED sticks of string cheese should've clued you in to the fact she has no self-control!"

As the two kept shouting, Broly had to deal with a hyperactive Twenty-One constantly running her twitching hands over his face, his hair, and at one point even running over his teeth.

"WowyourhairissosoftandthecloneprocessseemstohaveperfectedmakingyouaSaiyanintheirprime!"

"Someone." Broly thinks. "Please save me."


A couple of days later, at Tien's Dojo

"Dodge!" Piccolo yells, a flurry of ki blasts firing from his palms.

Broly, clad in a black gi with red wristbands, boots, sash, and undershirt, does his best to dodge, duck, dip, dive and dodge the Namekian's assault—

"Behind you!" Tien calls out, firing his own barrage of rapid-fire ki bullets.

The cloned Saiyan bends over backwards to dodge them, his weighted clothing keeping him from flying as he relies on his natural agility to avoid the storm of energy shots. Two hands slam into the ground, fingers digging into the dirt as the training warrior lifts himself into a handstand, tightening his profile so a pair of bullets fly past him before flinging his legs outwards into a standing splits to avoid another flying blast.

Pulling himself down in a facsimile of a push-up, the large man jumps off the ground with his hands, avoiding another pair of ki blasts that slam into each-other before exploding in his face, obscuring Broly's vision with smoke and dust—

Without the ability to fly, the improving warrior can't twist far enough out of the way to dodge the blast that slams itself into his stomach. The wind's knocked out of him as the solid sphere dissipates into nothing, but the young Saiyan falls to the ground all the same.

Broly was pouring sweat from the day's training, having to accommodate weighted clothing while performing various exercises as well as wearing a weighted cape and turban during day-to-day activities.

"Is this Hell?" Broly thinks.

"Good, good!" Piccolo says, pleased with the progress only he and Tien see. "You're still a long ways from any of our power levels, but you finally seem to be moving without any hiccups."

"What do you think Piccolo?" Tien says. "Another month with those weights on and he'll be ready for the Time Chamber?"

"Time Chamber?"

"Hmm…" Piccolo ponders, hand resting on his chin and mouth. "Yeah, I think after another month of intense body conditioning, he should be a high enough power level to survive the room's gravity. Even with its boost though, it'll take a long time for him to catch up to the rest of us."

"What do you say Broly?" Tien asks, helping his and Piccolo's student off the floor and into a proper sitting position. "You can call it here if you wish, but we would really appreciate having someone like you with us as a Z-Fighter."

Memories flash in the cloned Broly's mind, his only memories. Fighting a war against the evil half of Twenty-One, piloting the body of his newfound friends and companions as he battled against damn-near a thousand clones. The helpless feeling of throwing Z-Fighter after Z-Fighter in a vain attempt to keep fighting against the supercharged and invincible Evil Twenty-One on that alien world.

The terrifying moment of feeling Vegeta be erased around him, and knowing that the only reason they ended up winning was because Vegeta spent the last of his Super Saiyan ki surrounding Broly's artifical soul in a compact barrier, protecting him from Evil Twenty-One's black and red Kamehameha.

Broly's mind was made.

For the next month and year, he would almost regret this decision.

Almost.


AN: Nearly forgot to post this. It's definitely one of the shorter chapters I've made, but I feel it's a good stopping point for what it is. Next chapter's the Time Chamber, and I've got some fun ideas in mind for that one!