The Lookout Age 737 Friday December 8th 1988
Bulma woke up in the pitch-black room, surrounded by the vague outlines of her friends. The door creaked open, allowing a flood of outside light to penetrate the darkness. "Time to wake up. Kami will see you now. You left your things outside, so they are waiting for you when you leave," Mr. Popo informed them before closing the door.
Everyone stirred, and Bulma made her way out of the room. Mr. Popo was waiting by the door. "Oh, the chosen one," he greeted her with a smile. "You found some friends to help on your quest."
"I am grateful that they came along. It would be lonely, and I probably wouldn't have made it this far without them," Bulma replied as the door opened again, allowing the others to exit.
"Good, everyone's here," Mr. Popo exclaimed, clapping his hands. "Right this way to breakfast." He turned and walked away, and the group hurried to keep up with his long strides.
Mr. Popo stopped abruptly at another door, causing Cabba to bump into him. "Whoa there, little one," he chuckled, opening the door to reveal a room filled with a lavish breakfast. Bulma couldn't help but notice the Saiyans drooling as they gazed at the mouthwatering food. They eagerly entered the room, and the Saiyans wasted no time devouring the feast, while Bulma and Launch laughed at their enthusiasm. Soon enough, the food had vanished, and Mr. Popo clapped his hands.
"Time for your bath. I'll get you new clothes," he announced. Prince Vegeta huffed in annoyance, stating, "Okay, but I demand my privacy." Mr. Popo nodded in agreement. "Right this way," he said, leading them out of the room. After a five-minute walk, they arrived at two doors.
"This is where you'll shower, right through these two doors. One is for males, and the other is for females. There are pictures on each door to make sure you don't walk into the wrong room," Mr. Popo explained. After they were clean and dressed in their new clothes.
Mr. Popo collected them, and they followed him as they made their way up the stairs. Climbing proved to be quite challenging for the kids, given their small legs, so they hovered behind Mr. Popo, with Prince Vegeta carrying Bulma. In a short time, they reached the top, where the old Namekian, Kami, stood, gazing out of the window.
"You've finally arrived, the only one who came to me with your friends. My name is Kami," he introduced himself, turning around. "I am the guardian of this world. The revelation that we are all Namekians took me by surprise. Thank you for coming to this world, Saiyans."
Kami extended his hand, and Prince Vegeta eagerly shook it, his ego growing with every word of praise. "You're welcome. Is there anything I can do to help?" Prince Vegeta asked, his boasting temporarily interrupted when Turles accidentally stepped on his foot. "I mean, is there anything we can do to help?" he corrected himself, wincing as his foot throbbed.
Kami's expression turned somber as he issued a grave warning: "I must warn you that the enemy you face will try to kill you. He is my other half. You see, he and I were once a single being. I escaped from our home world when I was young, as it underwent drastic changes that wiped out nearly all of the Namekians. My pod crashed far from here, and I wandered out of my spaceship. I was soon picked up by the previous guardian, with hopes of grooming me to take over. After a few years, he taught me all he knew. I watched the humans fight against themselves, and this exposure to their darkness influenced me with their evilness. By the time I was ready to become the guardian of Earth, I couldn't handle the evil urges within me. So, I separated the evil part from me, which took the form of Evil King Piccolo. If you kill him, I will die too."
All of them nodded in understanding, and Raditz asked the crucial question, "How are we supposed to stop him, then?" Kami appeared visibly troubled as he replied, "I don't know." Uncertainty hung heavy in the air as they contemplated their next steps.
Bulma glanced at the Dragon Radar, her brow furrowing in concentration. They were in the vicinity of the Dragon Ball, but its exact location remained a mystery. "You're wondering where the Dragon Ball is, Bulma?" remarked Kami, sensing her curiosity. Bulma nodded, her blue eyes fixed on the radar's display.
"I have it somewhere. It would be safer with you than with us," Kami stated. Mr. Popo left the room briefly and returned holding the four-star Dragon Ball with a reverence that suggested it was a sacred artifact. He handed the Dragon Ball to Bulma, who accepted it carefully, recognizing its significance. She slipped the precious sphere into her backpack, keeping it safe.
Bulma then turned her attention to her trusty invention. "Is my battery charged and ready to go?" she inquired, her fingers tapping the device's surface.
"All charged and ready to go," Mr. Popo reassured her with a kind smile.
With their objectives in mind, Raditz posed a question to Kami. "So where do we go from here?" Prince Vegeta, exuding confidence, cracked his knuckles in anticipation of the battles ahead.
Bulma consulted the Dragon Radar once more. "All the other Dragon Balls are located in Egypt, around Cairo," she informed the group, her voice carrying a sense of determination.
Kami stepped forward, offering his guidance and support. "I have some techniques that could help you fight my twin and his offspring," he revealed, leading them down the stairs.
Prince Vegeta, skeptical of the prospect of training, questioned Kami's statement. "My parents told us that training wouldn't do anything," he said, his voice reflecting his doubts.
Kami sought to clarify the concept for them. "You see, people can get stronger through training," he explained, hoping to dispel any misconceptions. As they reached the lower level, the others nodded in understanding.
Kami led them to a door, cautioning them about the mysterious room beyond. "I must warn you, this room is very difficult to stay in. Only one person can go in at a time, and it can probably drive you mad if you stay inside for too long. One day out here is a year in there, but I can upgrade it to allow more people to enter simultaneously," he explained.
The children's eyes lit up with curiosity and anticipation. Kami's words resonated with Bulma, who already began devising ideas. Prince Vegeta, ever confident, stated, "It shouldn't be a problem for a Saiyan like me," and promptly threw open the door. A rush of coldness emanated from within as he entered, the door closing behind him.
The group waited for two hours, a mixture of curiosity and concern in their expressions. When the door finally reopened, Prince Vegeta emerged, his body showing signs of rigorous training and growth. Raditz, who had also ventured inside, shared his experience. "It was really hard. I spent a month there, especially when venturing out into the void," he recounted.
Kami nodded, acknowledging the challenges of the room. "I forgot to mention that the further you go, the more difficult it is to withstand," he added, offering an explanation. Prince Vegeta clenched his fist he wanted to scream but the memory of king Vegeta's fist and expectations loomed over him, a reminder of the past that still haunted him. Bulma, ever attentive to her friends, looked at Prince Vegeta with concern in her eyes. She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, but the unexpected contact made him flinch.
Bulma's concern deepened as she observed Prince Vegeta's reaction to her touch. He seemed visibly uncomfortable and stammered out an explanation, "Sorry, bad memories. My father used uncivilized tactics with my upbringing."
Bulma nodded empathetically, though the specific details of Prince Vegeta's past remained a mystery to her. She respected his privacy and chose not to press further, simply acknowledging his feelings.
Kami, sensing the emotional tension, intervened. "This will take some time to incorporate more people into the Spirit of Time," he stated before excusing himself. Mr. Popo then guided the group outside for their training.
Under Mr. Popo's guidance, they began to stretch, preparing themselves for the upcoming sparring session. Tarble, perhaps impatient, couldn't help but ask, "How long do we have to do this?"
Mr. Popo, keeping a watchful eye on them, replied, "Three more minutes." The group continued their stretching routine, counting down the minutes until they could relax.
When the time was finally up, Mr. Popo noticed their exhaustion and admitted, "My bad, I didn't realize how young you were." He showed understanding and compassion for their youthful limitations, allowing them to catch their breath and recover.