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Piccolo found them where they had lain when Sel had left ten minutes before, nobody able or willing to move yet. The namekian, dressed in a freshly materialized purple gi, quietly went from person to person, ensuring that none of them were in critical condition, using pinches of magic to dampen pain where absolutely necessary. Gohan was completely silent under examination, and that bothered him far more than he let on beyond his stoic countenance, but the boy was possibly in the best health out of everyone there and Piccolo knew that he would have to help the others before he could talk to his friend and protege.
He got the story from Trunks. A fractured retelling of the events following his decapitation, the attempt to hide Seventeen from Cell, the biodroid's manipulation of Goku, the transformation, and the fight between the Super Saiyan and the Perfect android. Trunks talked while Piccolo gathered all of them to one spot, fetching Goku from his shard of island. But when Goku's defeat came up, the son of Vegeta petered off, still disbelieving and shocked at what had happened. Understandable: he had been raised on stories of Goku's heroics, and to see that idol driven so low...
Yamcha had found several narrow slivers of rock, about a foot and a half in length, and had tied them around the blearily conscious Tien's legs as primitive splints, using his own shredded gi top for the bindings. The bandit himself could barely use one arm, as the shoulder joint was swollen and covered in a sickly purple bruise. Krillin had a glassy look in his eyes that suggested a concussion, and he was slow in answering any question directed his way. Trunks was wheezing, and was favoring one side of his chest over the other as he sat hunched against a boulder.
And then there was Goku. The saiyan was a mess, both inside and out; his skin was a patchwork of cuts, abrasions, bruises and burns, some of them still weeping drops of blood that mixed poorly with the dirt - making dark smears under his arms and around his face. His organs were dangerously pulverized, just shy of collapse and failure, but that would soon be the case if he didn't receive some kind of medical treatment very soon; not to mention the guaranteed internal bleeding. Most of his bones were intact, though fractured plenty, and the few breaks he did have were only slightly out of place, and in no immediate threat of slicing through something delicate.
But his energy stores had been ravaged mercilessly, and, worst of all, he wasn't responding to anything Piccolo said. More foreboding even than Gohan's sullen state, the normally jubilant and lively man was practically catatonic, less alive than he was almost dead.
"What do we do now?" Yamcha spoke quietly among them, knowing that somebody had to. There were no more plans to make, or strategies to enact. They were left on uneven footing and in the dark, unsure where to step and where they would fall.
"We all need a place to recuperate and heal," Piccolo inclined his head at Goku and the group in general. "Kame Island is out, and so is Korrin's Tower from what Trunks says."
"Actually" the half-breed spoke up, looking intently at the ground between them, "Capsule Corp. should be perfect: we all know it, it has top of the line medical facilities, and nobody there will ask questions we can't answer."
Piccolo stared intently at the youthful time traveler, urging him to explain. Trunks caught the look in his peripheral vision and ducked his head slightly in embarrassment, or perhaps shame. "In my time, I had to be patched up a few times, and mom said that she had had the same equipment from when you guys were still around. Goes to reason that this Bulma would have similar tech." The namekian studied him for a second more, less closely this time, before nodding in assent.
Piccolo hoisted one of Goku's arms over his shoulder, Yamcha gingerly wrapped his uninjured arm around Tien's back and under the opposite shoulder, and both Gohan and Trunks were preparing to help Trunks between them. They all froze when the sound of metal grinding against metal made itself heard over the restless surf that was even now threatening to drown the small fragment of rock.
All eyes turned to where the savagely demolished Sixteen had been knocked halfway into the water, servos grinding piteously as he attempted to raise an arm to pull himself out of the water. By whatever miracle, none of the exposed wiring or delicate circuitry had been shorted out by the water, despite having been drenched not too long before. His face was almost entirely pressed into the sand, but one iron gray eye managed to look up at them, emotionless despite itself.
"Oh...what are we going to do about him?" Krillin asked the group quietly, decidedly not looking at the crippled android. The others were silent, awkward, deferring the responsibility of judgment without a word. Even Goku averted his eyes, ashamed and guilt ridden already. Only one still looked at the defeated android.
Trunks had had a long day, that was for sure, and he would be the first to admit to taking more than his fair share of blows to the head. But, still, there was something inside of him that warred with the automatic hatred towards androids, something that didn't let him raise his hand and finish the job in one last plume of light and heat. His purpose, the mission that he had as the driving force for coming back in time had been first altered, then warped, and now irrevocably lost in the wake of an evil far greater than the one he had left behind. How would anyone react when the monsters they had grown up hearing about suddenly became just people thrown into a bad situation of their own and adapted to it the only way they knew how?
He had always lived in shadows. The shadow of the androids; the shadow of the Z-Fighters; the shadow of Gohan; the shadow of his father. He had become so accustomed to that role that he never once realized that he was blazing a new path, a new direction that no one could have foreseen or believed possible of him. He was so many things, both in his home time and in this one, but he had yet to become what he wanted for himself: someone who gave hope to those without, who saved lives rather than just take them away, and who could shoulder the responsibilities of being a hero.
"He's coming too."
The other Z-Fighters all startled at his voice, more so at his words. They looked at him with shock and apprehension clearly evident in their eyes.
"Trunks, you do remember what this guy did to you? Did to all of us?" Krillin spoke up, but he seemed to hear the heartlessness in his own voice and thought carefully before his next words. "I would have preferred it if we could have had a peaceful solution to the androids, but you saw what happened because we didn't try to destroy Seventeen and Eighteen. Now, Sel is going to hurt more people than they ever could, and we have to take our share of the blame on that." Goku winced, but nobody saw. "If we bring Sixteen with us, there's no telling what could happen, or who would suffer because of that decision!"
Krillin had though his emotions on the matter had been properly subdued, but by the end he was practically shouting, tears threatening his vision. He hated that he had to be the one to say it, but he knew that it was what had to be said.
Trunks turned his head slightly, more in contemplation than to avoid the diminutive fighter's eye. "My mother once told me about a reputably evil man who tried to destroy the planet. He was stopped by a band of fighters, though the cost was great. In the end, he was defeated, and they had the chance to kill him and end his reign once and for all. But one of the fighters, probably the one who should have wanted the man dead more than any one else, spoke up and decided to spare him, even if his evil continued." He looked back down at Krillin, steel in his eye. "That man was my father, and one of the Earth's greatest defenders until the moment he died."
Silence followed his little speech. Then Goku started to chuckle, even if the act did make his ribs twang painfully. "Well, he's got us there."
There was really nothing anyone could argue about beyond that without becoming the bad guy, so Gohan hoisted Sixteen onto his back and followed after everyone else as they flew in the direction of Capsule Corp. They had suffered another loss that day, and the future looked incredibly bleak, but they would do what they could, same as always. Interestingly, things had a way of turning about when it seemed like it couldn't get any more dark before, and maybe, just maybe, they might catch another break this time as well.
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Sel flew through space without sound, quickly reaching extraordinary speeds in the vacuum. The traits inherited from Frieza were working well in maintaining her without any air to breath, though she had a suspicion that it was more due to her physiology that awkward genealogy. She was aimless, but it felt rather nice just to be able to pick a direction and not worry about consequences.
She wouldn't stray far from the solar system, maybe find a nice place to have herself a little vacation at when her business with the Earth was done and over with. It would do her some good to relax after years of anxiety and caution, some time to get fully acclimated to her form and powers.
She didn't try to repress the smile. She had finally achieved what Gero had intended of her, and soon her destiny would be her own for the first time in her life. Look out Universe, here comes the Age of Sel!
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Bulma was...well, nobody had ever really seen her this way before, so they couldn't accurately gauge how she was holding up.
She met them all at the front door, opening it before they had even rang. She held baby Trunks to her chest, arm protectively encircled around his back and bouncing him soothingly, keeping him asleep. She moved to the side, wordlessly admitting them in, but she was forced to blink in stunned confusion when she actually looked at Gohan, and more importantly, the giant hoisted on his back.
"Hello, I am Android Sixteen," the gentle ginger politely greeted the heiress. At some point during their slow flight he had apparently worked around enough of his crashed system to allow audible speech once more, though at first it came out in a piercingly high speed recitation of binary, and even now it came not from his mouth but an unseen internal speaker, so the words were tinny and even more monotone, which by itself was a somewhat impressive feat.
"Uhhh," Bulma seemed to stall momentarily, eyes darting from the strongest fighters on the planet loitering in her front lawn to the supposedly world-ending mechanical being missing a decent wedge from his cranium and supported by a comparatively diminutive eleven year-old.
"We've got a lot to tell you about," Trunks murmured, eyes half closed and visibly slouching. He had been beaten up a lot today, and he just really wanted to lie down for awhile. But the guilt he harbored compelled him to stay awake for a little longer, at least as long as it took to bring this alternate version of his mother up to speed. None of them had been around in the past few days since Vegeta's death, and as much as he felt devastated by it, he couldn't even begin to imagine what kind of hell it must have been for her.
Bulma was quiet for an uncharacteristic pause, giving them all an unfortunate chance to note the bags under her puffy eyes and the disheveled look of her clothes. She looked her worst, but she had yet to surrender to solemnity or hysterics, for her's or her son's sake; her spirit was too strong for her to let herself crumble to nothing.
"Take him around back to the loading bay, I'll meet you there and get him to the tech lab. The rest of you, go on inside and make yourselves at home." She looked down at her slumbering baby contemplatively for just a half second before unconcernedly gesturing for Piccolo to take him.
"Does anybody remember when I was trying to kill Goku and was thought of as the greatest evil on the planet?" the irked namekian grumbled, handling the bundle of blanket and child awkwardly but carefully.
"Yeah, but that's almost a prerequisite for joining our gang, isn't it?" Yamcha half-joked, and the look he received from both Piccolo and a slightly conscious Tien made him brace himself against a wall while laughing. Krillin chuckled halfheartedly and Goku rolled his eyes, wondering why everyone thought that was so funny. Gohan, still, was silent as he took to the air once again. Bulma waited for everyone to file, limp, and be carried through the door before shutting it.
"I take it that he's on our side?" she didn't so much ask as she was commenting on it. At a nod from the adult Trunks, she strode off though the house resolutely, determination in every step. Trunks knew it from experience, and Piccolo was perceptive enough to realize it, but she had just devoted herself to a project in order to distance herself from her grief, willing to throw herself entirely at a problem until it was time to move on to the next one.
The assorted and beaten warriors made their way through the halls of the residential area and into Capsule Corp. proper, Yamcha familiar enough with the layout to guide them, gaining more than a few startled looks from the employees that they passed. Once they had stumbled into the med-bay, Krillin and Trunks set about patching everyone up as best they could, making use of actual medicine for a change. Piccolo mutely rocked the baby in his arms.
"Goku?" Trunks broke the relative silence as he swabbed a a series of shallow cuts along Tien's scalp caused by flying rubble with an alcohol doused cotton swab. "Would you mind answering a question?"
The full-blooded saiyan, like the triclops, was laying down on one of the beds, only lightly cleaned up, as they all suspected he needed an actual doctor more than band-aids and pain pills. He had insisted that the others be seen to first anyway, although that may have been influenced by when Yamcha had had his arm wrenched back properly into place, the former bandit screaming around the something-or-other-scope clenched between his teeth.
"Yeah, sure, go ahead," Goku mumbled, eyes closed.
"How did you manage to become so powerful as a super saiyan? I thought you and my father had practically topped out what it was capable of?"
"Hmmm." Goku thought for a moment, trying to summarize what he and Gohan had unconsciously recognized in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber. "You know how some of us wear weighted training gear?" He couldn't see Trunks nod but he assumed he had. "Very similar concept. What Vegeta and I could do before was handicapped by the sheer power drain that the transformation required, limiting how strong we could get. So Gohan and I kept staying super saiyan as long as we could, getting more and more used to it until it barely cost anything to maintain. Not only did we get a huge amount of energy that would have been wasted, but we could also get stronger through training since our limits were higher than ever."
"That...oh..." Trunks trailed off, utterly stunned by the genius simplicity of it. It now seemed so horribly obvious, salt on the wound that was his failure to defeat the androids of either timeline.
"Could you get even stronger? I mean, is it possible for you to-" Krillin cut himself off, a pained look on his round face. A similar look appeared on Goku's, and his words were slow in coming.
"No. This is the absolute highest Gohan and I could take it – Full Powered Super Saiayn. We only stayed in the chamber for the last few weeks to sharpen our skills, not our strength."
"So there's no way we can beat her," Trunks surmised the unspoken point, letting his hands thunk against the counter top he had been rummaging through in search of safety pins. They were all silent after that, even when Gohan shuffled in and sat on a tall stool in the corner. Piccolo moved to stand beside him, and the boy looked with muted interest at the face of the sleeping baby.
"Could you go back in time to stop all of this from happening?" Krillin spoke again, this time looking towards Trunks. The warrior from the future quickly shook his head.
"No, we can't even consider that at this point. I came to the past to warn you all of two androids, and instead you get five, nearly all of which are stronger than the ones from my own time, and whatever Sel is. If I went back it might cause something even worse to happen that I couldn't help with. Besides, whatever I did wouldn't affect this timeline, as it's more or less its own dimension in the omniverse."
"Please don't ever try to explain time travel to us," Yamcha groaned, draping his good arm over his eyes. "Bulma once helped me program a universal remote, and her explanation went right over my head."
This time, it was the others laughing at him.
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Sel was siting cross legged on nothing, looking down at the planet directly below her. (Obviously, she didn't need to take the stance, but she wasn't a robot, and little acts of character felt good.) She had no idea what the name of it was, nor its specific coordinates in relation to Earth. It wasn't even very interesting to look at in most regards.
What had drawn her to it was the war being waged.
Well, war was a polite term for it; something more accurate would probably be massacre. It seemed like the entirety of the planet's warriors, almost all of whom boasted noticeable powers levels, were facing off against a group of six or seven aliens, none native and all of them vastly more powerful than the opposition. They seemed to fall into various roles, based on their powers, abilities and looks, which amused Sel for some reason she couldn't quite place.
They were defending a colossal tree that was the only point of green of the planet.
Barely discernible from her height, a man wrapped in a plain black cloak was hovering patiently by the massive branches of the tree, not even paying attention to the bloodshed happening all around him. She had initially been shocked to see that he was nearly identical to Goku, and thought for a moment that it was actually him. But a second look revealed all the details she needed to know that this man was nothing like the honorable saiyan of Earth. For one thing, his skin was much darker, a shade somewhere between gray and purple, and customized PTO armor could be glimpsed through the gaps in his cloak. But most telling were his eyes, which lacked any of Goku's determination, honor or bravery, and instead held only a sickening glee and selfish desire which made even Sel squirm in disgust.
Whoever this soap opera worthy doppelganger was, his sole objective was clearly the tree, which seemed to be siphoning off the very energy of the planet at a glutinous rate. Even as thousands died in agony, he had eyes only for a minuscule spot of orange-red that had appeared at the apex of one particularly thin branch.
Sel watched in silence, observing the proceedings from the seat of a god and a deep seated revulsion. This wasn't fulfilling. This wasn't in any way glorious. All these people were being killed and forgotten in the same second, not even garnering a second look from their murderers. She had nothing against genocide, but seeing such an ugly and needlessly protracted path to it, she slowly came to a decision: war was no fit way to lose your life. Maybe it was all of the genes from martial artists she was comprised of, but it repulsed her on a fundamental level.
One-on-one, two-on-one, three-on-two, it didn't matter what numbers there were so long as each and every punch, kick, parry, block and dodge meant something, when the fight was an art and not a bloody means to an end. She resolved that the inhabitants of the Earth wouldn't know they were about to die when the time came for it, she would just blow up the planet without show or preamble. Imagining the looks on their faces soured her stomach for some reason. As for the Earth's defenders...
'Standing up', she appraised the planet once again. It now seemed that a great deal of the population was dead or dying, and the globe itself was nearly bone dry, sucked of all its energy like the victim of a celestial leech. The Goku look-alike was cupping his hands around a swiftly forming, prickly-skinned fruit that coursed with vibrant energy that she could detect distinctly, and she could easily guess where this was headed.
Decided, she raised her hand, charging an orb of golden ki for a few seconds before firing it off, tracking its progress without moving away. The ki bomb sailed down past a surprised Goku impostor and collided with the ground, vanishing as it carved its way through one of the mammoth roots of the tree and down, down, down into the world's crust. It only took half a minute for the highly condensed sphere of energy to impact with the core, and then everything was either shaking unbearably, spouting geysers of fire, or both.
Not a minute later, the entire planet exploded, atomized in a blinding fireball of white and yellow energy, taking the doomed inhabitants and the ruthless invaders with it. She had not learned its name, nor would she ever. Everything to her was just...so much dust.
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Piccolo came back into the med-bay where Goku alone remained, arms and legs immobilized with splints and covered in bandages. The others had all left to commune in the living room of the Briefs' household, even Tien, who had refused the doctor's attempts to stick him in a wheelchair and had only settled on crutches when Yamcha told him off for being bullheaded.
"Goku, I have a plan." The namekian didn't waste any time with pleasantries – not that he ever did, to be honest.
A faint smirk lifted a corner of Goku's lips. "The last time you said that, I had a hole blasted through my chest."
Piccolo harumphed; like he was going to apologize for that. "We lost the dragon balls when I fused with Kami, and I'm not viable to be Earth's Guardian, but that doesn't mean it has to stay empty."
Goku looked at his longtime rival with shock, a golf ball sized lump forming in his throat. Hope was the greatest poison.
"If we go to the New Planet Namek and find one of my people who belongs to the Dragon Clan, it's entirely possible that we could have a new Guardian before the day is done."
Goku let this sink in, mulling over it thoroughly. "Sel could come back at any moment; what right do we have to drag someone else into this if they could die at any time with the rest of us?"
"None, which is why we will not hide any of the details from them. This will be entirely their choice, not ours."
"But couldn't we just use the namekian dragon balls for whatever wish you were thinking of?"
"To be honest, I don't actually have a specific wish in mind yet. And besides, to search for their dragon balls could take days we possibly don't have, and I'd rather we have our own set in case we somehow live through this, rather than mooch off of them and fail, leaving them without any wishes in a galaxy with Sel on the loose. Look, I know it's not perfect, and in many ways it's a bad idea, but I think we could all use the moral boost in knowing that we have some possibilities. I'd rather not rely on the dragon balls, but I'm willing to try almost any option if it has a chance of succeeding."
"...you're a big softie, ya' know that?"
"Shut up, or I'll have them wire your jaw shut."
"So what's the plan? I'm not in much shape for traveling right now..."
"I'm well aware, but I've had a chance to rest and recover some of my energy; I could provide you with hopefully enough to give you enough of a jump start for you to use Instant Transmission and get us to New Namek."
"Hmmm, could work, but I have no idea where exactly New Namek is. Do you?"
"Admittedly no, but I did have an idea about that..."
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King Kai didn't know whether to faint, jump out of his skin, or bust a lung laughing when Goku and Piccolo, both former students of very high promise, materialized ten feet away, the former being held bridal style by the latter.
After a moment, he managed to almost do all three: jumping his own height into the air, he landed on his back, rolling around and positively guffawing.
An already irritated Piccolo growled, but was ignored as Goku couldn't help giggling as well, and both Bubbles and Gregory were watching in bafflement. When it became obvious that the North Kai wasn't stopping anytime soon, the tall fighter stomped his foot on the minuscule planet with enough force to rattle it. King Kai whooped in alarm, rolling onto his hands and knees, looking unsteady. When the mini-quake had passed, he frowned up at the namekian.
"You need to be more careful with my planet! Hit it too hard and we'd all fall into Hell, and then there would be pirates!"
Rolling his eyes at the Kai's nonsense,Piccolo spoke up before they were interrupted by any more hysterics. "King Kai, we came here for your help."
The short lord of the northern galaxy perked up, his antennae twitching. He was silent for a second, which didn't really seem like him, but he quickly assumed a professional appearance, standing up straight with hands clasped behind his back.
"I see. Then say what you would and I'll do what I can."
"Hey, thanks King Kai," Goku spoke, still in Piccolo's arms, much like baby Trunks had been earlier that day. "We're looking for the planet that the namekians wished themselves to when they left Earth, but I don't really know any of their power signals and can't single them out. We were hoping you could give us some directions."
King Kai seemed far less surprised by this than they would have thought, but he wasn't always clowning around. "Let's see here, New Planet Namek," he murmured to himself, antennae freely swishing about for several seconds before locking in on a direction loosely describable as 'to the right'. "They're in that direction there – you shouldn't have any trouble locating them."
It was Goku's turn to remain silent for a bit, index and middle fingers at the ready on his forehead. Bubbles began making a ruckus, supposedly asking what was going on in monkey dialect, but a sharp look from Piccolo silenced the primate immediately.
"Ah! There they are!" Goku crowed jubilantly, honestly smiling for what felt like the first time in a long while. "Thanks a bunch King Kai. We'll talk again soon."
Eager to get on their way, saiyan and namekian vanished, leaving the Kai and his two associates to stare into empty space. King Kai, stayed motionless for a moment, contemplating. Then he turned to look back towards his modest home. "You can come out now."
At his words, a yellow cloud wafted through the open air window and came to rest close to the Kai.
"It's just as you said; they're in serious trouble."
'Well, what else is new?' Vegeta shot back, unimpressed.
"Goku is incredibly strong, way stronger than what he was the last time I checked up on him."
'Oh DAMNIT! He surpassed me yet again!?' The soft cloud seemed to puff out angrily, which is something only the Prince of all Saiyans could pull off. 'Both he and Gohan were absent from the fights I saw, so I'm willing to bet that the little runt is not only also a super saiayn now, but also at a near, if not identical level of strength to Kakarot. Now I'm certain that I'm in my own personal Hell.'
"It's not just that he got stronger; it felt as if he housed an immense pool of energy, even if severely depleted right now it felt vast. He could probably produce nearly twice the energy of a regular super saiyan."
Vegeta was quite for a moment, which is harder than it sounds when engaged in telepathic communication. 'I think I can see what he did. Heh, that tricky bastard actually did something smart for a change.'
"So," King Kai abruptly changed the subject before they were engrossed in a discussion about training methods, "Goku and Piccolo are going to New Planet Namek to find a replacement Guardian for Earth. That means they'll be able to wish you back if you let them know you're-"
'No.'
King Kai was, understandably, taken aback by the terse interruption. "'No'? What do you mean 'no'? You can go back to being alive and not stuck like this."
'Don't you think I want that more than anything else right now?' Vegeta snapped hotly and with enough venom to cause the Kai to instinctively flinch. This forced the prince to stop himself and let his anger cool for a moment before continuing. 'I would want nothing more than to be with-...than to be alive once again, but that is hardly a choice I have the luxury of choosing.'
"How so?" King Kai inquired, curious what could curb the normally brash and arrogant saiyan's desire so sharply.
'If I contacted them, it would solve nothing. Yes, I could be alive again for a little while, but only just that small scrap of time. We do not have the full picture yet, but I am beyond certain that Cell is responsible for their crisis, and if that monster is strong enough to have put Kakarot in that condition at his current level, the Earth is as good as dead.'
"Cell? That android thing you told me about? If she could destroy the Earth, why hasn't she done so already?"
'It's an..."evil thing".'
"What's that supposed to mean?"
'Never you mind,' Vegeta quickly retorted, trying and failing to not recall giving Goku several hours to arrive from the Otherworld. How ironic. 'The point is, I can't be of any help to them, as I'd be completely outmatched by whatever Cell has become. That would be a false hope I wouldn't want them to cling to, only to be let down yet again.'
He didn't say so, but King Kai was actually rather impressed with the saiyan prince. He had seen him when he had attacked Earth, seen the cold, ruthless and sadistic saiyan elite kill his own man and then torture Goku. He had seen him mow down enemies on Namek and eradicate a whole village of innocents. King Kai would never, not once, have thought that such a man was ever capable of redemption, let alone become one of the good guys. Yet here he was, willing to sacrifice his own happiness for the sake of others. What did that say about the man?
"So you won't help them against Cell?"
'I...I don't know dammit! I can't just leave them to die, but I also can't be another defeat for them.' King Kai was starting to get the idea that Vegeta wasn't being totally honest right now; there was another, much more important reason he was unwilling to return to the realm of the living, but it was something he could not talk about, not with King Kai. The barest blueprint of a plan began to take form in his mind.
"If you could go back and have a chance to help, you'd take it?"
'Of course.' Not even a second of hesitation. This might actually work, but he'd keep it under wraps for now, just so he didn't give Vegeta his own false hope to wallow under."
"Hmmm. Well, I don't think it'd hurt if you did some training at least. Kill some time around here."
He got the impression that Vegeta would have rolled his eyes if he could've. 'Do I really need to point out the fact that I don't have a body to train with? I thought gods were supposed to be all-knowing.'
"Well, Mr. Snark, it is true that you can't train a physical body, but I was referring to a training of a different sort: training of your soul." Vegeta said nothing at all, which was promising. "You are basically raw soul right now, so it'll be harder than if you were whole, but far from impossible. Through deep meditation, it is possible to 'exercise' your very soul, toughening it and allowing it to become another weapon in your arsenal. If you can attain control over your soul, then you'll find that you become capable of feats you never thought possible before."
'Did Kakarot undertake this training while he was here?' Typically, the prince never missed a chance to pit himself against Goku.
"Some aspects of it, yes. The foundations for soul mastery are some of the main aspects of my 'Kaioken' technique and 'Spirit Bomb' attack."
'You are aware that both of those were used against me?'
"Yes I am, and I also know that you barely survived them."
'…'
"Why don't you just find someplace to park yourself and see if you can enter a meditative trance – that's the first step."
'And just what do you plan on doing?' Sharp.
"I'm going to check on the situation going on and see just what you're up against. Information is something of a specialty of mine after all."
'Really now? I seem to recall that, rather than keeping an eye on the galaxy, you were taking a nap when I got here.'
"Go meditate!" King Kai shouted before turning on his heel and marching away, refusing to stomp as he went. But internally, his mind was abuzz with possibility. It hadn't been done in centuries, and almost never by the lower kais, being forbidden except in the most dire of situations. The others would certainly be opposed to the notion, being that they would probably gain nothing from it. But then again, South Kai did owe him for having Broly dealt with, and two voices were stronger than just one in a group of five. He was seriously going to go through with this, wasn't he?
Looking over his shoulder, King Kai watched as Vegeta shifted about, clearly agitated, but eventually settle in one spot and, shortly, begin to pulse with an inner light. Yes, King Kai decided, he was going to face the other Kais with this. If Vegeta could make such a change for the better, then he owed it to the fallen prince to do everything in his power to both respect his wish of not being revived, and to provide him with the perfect window to assist those he called his allies in their time of greatest need.
If it came down to it, and the Earth's future was on the line, then maybe a prince could rise one last time to defend it.
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