Frowning at the aching in her arm, Chichi continued to stir the batter into a fine paste with one hand on the stir stick, and the other gradually adding flour making the solution thicker. Her children would be back soon from training and through the tough exercises she assumed they must have gone through, she knew they would enjoy a batch of home made chocolate chip cookies.
"Ouch," she felt something kick inside her abdomen. A smile crept across her face and putting a batter encrusted hand on her stomach, she said, "Goodness, Goten. Calm down, you'll be out of there in a few months."
The thought of a family made her happy, and as soon as Goten was born, she would have the family she always wanted. "Except Goku isn't here to see it," she thought silently as the smile faded from her lips.
Pushing the unpleasant thought from her mind, she tucked a wisp of black hair behind her ear and continued stirring. Goku's death had broken her heart, leaving Chichi alone to raise Gohan and Goken by herself. He had been a fine Saiyan warrior, standing up and fighting for what he believed in and protecting his loved ones. After all the physical and emotional torment he'd gone through in his life, the least he deserved was a chance at seeing his wife and family. But Cell had taken that away.
Chichi cursed under her breath at the mere thought of Cell. Even six years after that creature's death, she could not let go of what he had done to her family. She cursed him for her family's pain, but also cursed Goku for her emotional pain. After all, he didn't have to go out there and fight Cell. The authorities and the military could've easily stopped him, right? Why did Goku have to die?
Chichi slapped herself mentally for thinking such a selfish thought. "Goku was the only one who could stop him," she thought, her heart giving into her mind.
Her train of thought was interrupted upon hearing the front door of the house open. "Mom, we're home!" Gohan called into the house, his voice echoing against the large dome shaped inner walls.
She wiped her hands on her apron and wrapped a shawl around her slender shoulders. Walking out into the living room, Chichi welcomed the boys home with a warm hug. "I'm got some cookies ready for the oven," she said to Goken, "Get yourself cleaned up and come down in ten minutes. Dinner will be out."
He obediently ran up the stairs to get changed. "I'll help with the table," Gohan offered.
"Thanks," Chichi said, accepting the help. "I've been slaving away in the kitchen all evening, I could use a little help. How's Gokens training coming along?"
Gohan shook his head. "Physically, he's got what it takes, the fighting skills I mean. But he can't transform."
"You mean into his Saiyan form?" Chichi asked.
"Yeah," Gohan replied. "I get him to try over and over again, but I don't see anything, not even a hint of his Saiyan form." Chichi nodded grimly, taking in what she'd just been told. Gohan continued. "To make things worse, he's getting frustrated with me. Just told me today he doesn't want to do this anymore."
"But he has to," Chichi said. "What if another enemy comes to earth? That means you'd have to…" she stopped. The thought of her family running of into another potentially fatal battle made her feel nauseous. In a way, she wanted to side with Goken but her mind advised her against it. She knew better.
Opening white painted wooden closet doors quickly, a wall of crumpled clothes fell onto Goken, burying him in their stale, smelly stench. He pawed through the mess casually, looking for a decent shirt to wear. He grabbed a black T-shirt with a white strip across the chest and threw it over his head. His wet hair, fresh from the shower, dampened the collar, sending a shiver down his spine as it touched his neck.
Tripping over clothes that got caught between his feet, Goken stumbled across the room to the wooden dresser, clammoring over heaps of junk for a comb. His hand wrapped around the familiar plastic handle and pulled it out from under a pile of papers, empty hairspray bottles, and forks.
"How'd that fork get in here?" he wondered. Shrugging mentally, he stared into the mirror, preparing himself for the agonizing task of combing hair that had just came from the shower.
Even from his peripheral vision, the reflection in the mirror didn't quite seem right. Goken looked directly into it again and nearly jumped back in horror when an unfamiliar face stared right back at him. The face wasn't even human, more like humanoid, staring with sunken eyes covered with shadow. In fact, the entire face was mostly covered in shadow, just a hint of a nose and the lower lip were bathed in some kind of immaculate red light.
Goken let out a small cry and stumbled backwards, landing on his elbows, making him want to cry out in pain. But the image in the mirror kept him silent in fear.
"Your terror excites me, child" the reflection said with a cold, raspy voice. "But fear not, for I am your savior."
What was this thing talking about? Goken swallowed a huge lump in his throat and remained on the floor for a moment, trying to think of what to say to the intruder. "Who… who are you?" he stammered. "What do you want from me?"
"I feel your pain," it replied, "the pain of your useless training. After all, why bother to train someone as a Saiyan when he isn't even one, right?"
"But I am a Saiyan," Goken said. "My father was one before me, as was my grandfather. Gohan is just trying to bring out that potential in me."
"You are not," the reflection replied. "You are not a Saiyan, but intead, you are something far greater. You are the Devotee, the one to protect the universe from all that is evil."
"The Devotee?" Goken asked, "What are you talking about?"
"Allow me to show you your true power," the reflection said. Goken nodded slowly, wondering what the creature was going to do. It came out of the mirror, surrounded by glowing waves of energy. Whatever it was, it was huge, walking over to him. When the creature finally reached him, it didn't slow down. Instead, it continued towards him until it entered his body. Goken could feel it's energy mixing with his, making him feel more powerful. That was the last thing he remembered before the entire world blacked out before him.
"Too easy," the Firebird said. He raised his hands towards his face, flexing his fingers and observed their movements. "Interesting." He smiled in ecstasy. Finally, after all those years of searching, he had the body of the Devotee in his possession. His energy coursed through the Devotee's veins, slowly absorbing his body into a part of the Firebird himself. Now that they were one, the Firebird could harness his power and unleash his reign of terror over the universe.