A/N: Sorry it took so long to update. I only had time to write this because I'm sick with COVID. In this chapter, we'll go over a brief history of the Saiyans from both Gohan and Shoto's bloodlines. We'll also see... a shiny new power from One for All! Hope you like it.
Sorry, no review responses this time, but I'll make an effort to respond to everyone in the next chapter. Sorry!
Opening Song:
"Lost in Time" by Survive Said the Prophet
New Namek Electric Co.
Customer Service Department
Subject: Update on Recent Power Fluctuations in New Namek Redevelopment Zone
Dear Valued Residents,
We are writing to address the recent power fluctuations experienced within the New Namek Redevelopment Zone. We understand that these disruptions have caused inconvenience, and we would like to provide an update on the situation.
Our field technicians have carefully inspected the power generators a
s well as the perimeter, and are pleased to inform you that our findings indicate that there are no immediate concerns or significant issues with our equipment. The fluctuations experienced were identified as minor and are attributed to temporary anomalies that have now been addressed.
While the presence of dead
wildlife near the site raised initial concerns, our environmental and safety assessments have confirmed that these occurrences are unrelated to our power systems. Please be assured that there are no signs of hazardous conditions or long-term impact on the power supply.
We are committed to maintaining the highest standards of service and ensuring the reliability of our power systems. Our team will continue to monitor the situation closely and perform routine checks to prevent any future disruptions. We appreciate your patience and understanding as we work to provide you with uninterrupted service.
If you have any further questions or concerns, please do not hesitate to contact our customer service department. Our representatives are available to assist you with any inquiries.
Sincerely,
New Namek Electric Co.
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT – INTERNSHIPS II: HISTORY OF THE SAIYANS
Other than the training shorts that hugged his thighs, waist and glutes tightly, Gohan was all but naked as he sank deeper into the waters of the Rejuvenation Chamber. He tucked his weary arms around his midsection and his legs bent upwards into a fetal position, as the cool, soothing sensation of the healing fluid swirled around him with a gentle, tingling sensation, cleansing and healing his exhausted and battle hardened body.
From inside the spherical chamber, a soft blue glow illuminated the surface of the waters. Oxygen bubbles squeezed out of the snug breathing mask that Gohan was wearing over the bottom portion of his face and jaw, drifting lazily to the surface, adding to the soft, constant beeping of the chamber's equipment.
The Gravity Room training had been beyond brutal. They hadn't even had a chance to change out of their school uniforms and already Vegeta had put them to work, shattering past their limits.
But they had passed the test and emerged victorious. Bruised, bloodied and with their clothes shredded to pieces, sure, but victorious, nonetheless.
And they had done it together.
Gohan's eyes began to slowly close, and he glanced one more time at his classmates. Around his pod, Shoto, Caulifla, Cabba and Kale were all sleeping peacefully in their individual pods. The lights of the private chamber were off and the door was locked shut.
For a brief moment, Vegeta's commanding voice reverberated through Gohan's mind once again.
"Listen up, you insects!" Vegeta had growled at them before sending them off. "From this moment on, your lives will be devoted to becoming the strongest warriors you can be. You will train until your bodies are broken, then you will heal in the Rejuvenation Chambers, replenish and nourish your strength and then do it all over again. There will be no breaks, no distractions. That means no cell phones, no televisions, no videogames, stereos, or CD players-"
"CD Players? What are those?" Kale whispered to her older sister, who shrugged.
"- no days off, and no excuses!" Vegeta vociferated.
"No days off?" Gohan muttered under his breath. "But as the Class Representative, I'm supposed to report in person every Friday to..."
"Not any more," Vegeta's sharp gaze zeroed in on him, instantly silencing him. "As I said, no distractions. In here, I make the rules, not UA. You've got a problem with that, Gohan?"
Gohan clenched his jaw but shook his head, despite the pit in his stomach at the revelation.
"Uh, no, sir! Just... excited to get started!"
"Excuse me, Mister Endeavor, sir?" Cabba raised his hand shakily, trying to mask his uncertainty with a brave face.
"Lord Vegeta," Caulifla corrected sharply.
"Right…" Cabba cleared his throat, chewing on the side of his lip. "Erm… What about our rooms? Where will we sleep?"
A rare, cruel smile tugged at the corner of Vegeta's mouth. "Sleep? You'll be so utterly destroyed after each day's training that you'll be begging to stay in the Rejuvenation Chamber. That's right. Your pods will be your home. This is your life now for the next six months. Get used to it, or get the hell out!"
With the silence the enveloped him, the reality of the next six months began to sink in, and Gohan felt his stomach drop. He thought about what Vegeta's words meant for him. No breaks. No contact with the outside world. Not even a phone call every once and a while! Just relentless training and recovery and work.
Part of him regretted choosing to intern with Vegeta. Had he known that this grueling work would keep him away from Namek, away from his family, away from his other responsibilities…
But no. The decision had already been made. Still, for the first time in a very long time, Gohan felt lonely again and the poignant weight on his chest triggered a beautiful memory.
"On the bad days, when I feel extremely lonely, what really helps me is to think about butterflies." Ochaco smiled, splashing her toes against the cool tide gently.
"Butterflies?" Gohan's eyebrow rose quizzically, hugging his knees to his chest. "Really?"
"Mhm!" Ochaco smiled. "You know, they're incredibly beautiful, but in order to change and become who they're meant to be, they had to go through a short period of loneliness in their cocoons, right? But it's worth it in the end. So whenever you feel lonely, just remember to use this time to focus on growing into the person you want to be, the type of hero you want to be and one day, you'll make your family really proud, and it'll all be worth it in the end."
That was a beautiful memory…
Gohan's thoughts drifted to Ochaco, her bright smile and the warmth of her presence.
I promise, Ochaco, he thought, his consciousness fading, I'll come back to you stronger than ever.
With a final sigh, he let go, surrendering to the restorative sleep.
…
It was the dawn of a new day by the time Gohan stirred from his sleep. A churning sound from below caught his attention and Gohan glanced down at his naked feet, realizing that what had awoken him was the sound of the Rejuvenation fluid rushing down the drain. He blinked rapidly as the fluid drained down to his ankles and he brushed an arm over his groggy eyes, wiping back his slick, spiky bangs.
A gentle green mist lifted around him, signaling the end of his session. He could hear the faint hum of the machines as they powered down.
As the front hatch slowly lifted, Gohan removed the breathing apparatus attached to the machine and walked down the steps that lead out of the machine. The cool air of the room greeted him as he stepped out, and his muscles felt loose and invigorated.
Gohan marveled at the sensation coursing through his body. His muscles felt completely healed of every ache and fatigue from the previous day's training. He flexed his arms experimentally, feeling a newfound strength and fluidity in his movements. His stamina seemed boundless, his mind sharper than ever, and his senses more attuned to his surroundings.
The chamber's restorative effects were nothing short of miraculous. Gohan couldn't help but smile as he took a deep breath, savoring the freshness of the air. He glanced around, noticing the other chambers beginning to power down as well.
He glanced at the clock to see that he still had thirty minutes before the cafeteria opened for lunch. He made his way to fetch a towel when he noticed a figure lying in the corner of the dimly lit room. Raising an eyebrow, Gohan approached the figure to find Cabba huddled on the ground, resting his head on several bunched up towels, fast asleep.
"Cabba?" Gohan called softly, squatting down to give him a firm shake. "Cabba, are you alright?"
Cabba jolted awake, his eyes wide with surprise. "Gohan! Ah, sorry! I… I must have dozed off."
Gohan frowned. "What are you doing here lying on the floor? Shouldn't you be in the Rejuvenation Chamber?"
"Yeah, about that… You see, I woke up a little while ago and I just couldn't go back to sleep," Cabba rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, "so I went for a walk. They have a huge museum of ancient Saiyan stuff on the fifth floor. But Mister Nappa found me walking around and sent me back, and since I didn't know how to turn the Chamber back on by myself, I just ended up napping here."
Cabba's eyes sparkled with mischief.
"What?" Gohan laughed, recognizing the look in Cabba's eyes.
"They're not opening the cafeteria for another half hour or so. Wanna go explore the museum with me?"
…
The hallway full of Saiyan artifacts seemed to stretch infinitely. The first thing that caught Gohan and Cabba's eyes were the statues, towering and imposing, lining the walls like silent sentinels.
The statues depicted mighty men and women with rippling muscles and fierce expressions.
One statue showed a woman with wild, flowing hair, surrounded by flames, her eyes burning with intensity as she led an army into battle. Another depicted a serene, yet powerful figure, standing atop a mountain with her hands outstretched, controlling the elements around her.
"These women," Gohan said, awestruck. "They were warriors, leaders."
"Badass, right?" Cabba nodded, pointing at a Saiyan woman riding a horse into combat. "That's Lady Cilan, the White Rose of House Okara. Before the ancient Saiyans became a nation, they were tribes with very different ways of life. In some tribes, the women were respected leaders. In others, they were the fist of their armies. Saiyan history is filled with powerful women who shaped our destiny. But the one common denominator within all Saiyan, men or women, was the insatiable drive to push beyond our limits…"
They continued walking down the hall in reverent silence. Gohan's eyes widened as they passed tapestries that told epic tales, woven in vibrant colors. One tapestry depicted the legendary battle between the Saiyans and another nation, with hundreds of warriors charging into battle, their tails lashing out behind them.
Others depicted scenes of daily life in ancient Saiyan society. Farmers working in fields, children training under the watchful eyes of their mothers, and men forging their armor.
As Gohan and Cabba walked further down the hallway, their eyes rested on a statue that was larger than the rest. This statue was different, in that it was chiseled out of solid ruby that glinted under the lights. It depicted a warrior with his hand raised high, clutching a massive sword that seemed to pierce the heavens. His cape billowed out behind him, frozen in time, capturing a moment of eternal valor.
"That's him; the greatest Saiyan who ever lived, King Sadala," Cabba whispered, reverence in his voice. "The Godking."
King Sadala… Gohan gazed at the statue. The man had a giant build, towering over the other statues. Scars highlighted the power in his narrowed eyes and his thick mane of hair flowed down to his ankles.
Gohan had seen that fierce face before, back when he had encountered the vestiges of his ancestral lineage during his first Kanassan Hallucination, standing at the very end of a line of men whose Quirks he would some day inherit.
King Sadala…
"King Sadala was more than just a legend," Cabba said, his eyes shining. "He was the one who unified the Saiyan tribes into a proper nation. Before him, a kingdom was an idea that the Saiyan elders scoffed at. Our people were divided, constantly at war with each other. But Sadala had a vision of unity and strength. He was a great leader, both in battle and in diplomacy. And that sword is what united them all."
Gohan leaned in to get a closer look at the well-detailed sword in the statue's grip. The long sword glinted, chiseled out of gold to make it contrast from the rest of the ruby statue. The golden blade almost seemed to glow with great power.
"Legend says that when Sadala was a still a boy, he climbed Snake Way and made it to the Sacred World of the Kai," Cabba continued. "There, the gods granted him great power and a mighty sword, the Valorblade, infused with the scarlet power of the gods, with which to strike down any enemy. He used it to unite every other House and Tribe under one name, one Kingdom. That's how he got his title: the Godking."
"That's incredible," Gohan looked at the statue, feeling a strange sense of connection. "I think... I might be a descendant of Sadala," he said quietly.
Cabba's eyes widened with excitement. "Really? That's awesome! I'm a descendant of Sadala, too. I guess that means we share a common ancestry, Gohan. We're brothers, sorta… or maybe long distant cousins, at least."
Gohan smiled, feeling a bond forming between them. "Tell me more about King Sadala."
"King Sadala was a valiant and wise ruler," Cabba said. "He led the Saiyans to many victories, both in battle and in the unification of our people. His leadership brought an era of peace and prosperity to the Saiyans. He believed that there would be a day when the Saiyans would one day find peace, and wouldn't have to fight any more. That one day, they would ascend to godhood and he would be able to return the Valorblade to the gods, once and for all."
Gohan listened intently.
"Peace, huh?" He chuckled. "Doesn't sound like something a lot of Saiyans would agree to."
"Well… yeah," Cabba let out a pained breath. "That's exactly what happened. It's not easy for warriors to embrace peace, especially when fighting is all they've known," he shrugged, his voice dropping to rueful tone. "But maybe that's why it's a dream worth holding onto."
Cabba gave off a short chuckle and smiled at something distant, staring into the eyes of Sadala.
"You know," he said. "My grandfather used to say that every time a star shines in the night sky, a Saiyan is born. Our ancestors didn't come from the ground like the rest of Earth's men, no; they were angels from the stars."
A faint smile formed in Cabba's lips and he reached up and closed his hand around the star pendant chain that was resting on his chest with a certain sense of nostalgia. "So whenever you see a shooting star, it means a Saiyan has been born, a savior to our people and to our world."
"Is that what he told you?" A sudden, cold voice said from behind. Gohan and Cabba turned towards the voice that had called out to them, to see Shoto approaching them. His muscles poked out of the sleeveless black shirt he was wearing and his hands were tucked inside the pockets of his blue training pants.
"That we were angels?" There was no malice in Shoto's voice, only sincere disbelief. "Maybe King Sadala believed in something better, but most Saiyans didn't. They were too consumed by their own strength, their pride. I've seen it firsthand. I've lived with the Elites… seen what Saiyans do in the name of power. Believe me, peace is the last thing on their minds."
Shoto scanned the room until his gaze settled on one of the larger statues in the room—a towering figure of a Saiyan Queen with a cruel, mocking expression, holding the Valorblade up as a trophy. The stone figure exuded an aura of power, of dominance within the twisted, scowling smirk on her lips. In her free hand, she clutched the royal pendant of House Sadala.
"My grandfather would send me to bed with a different story entirely," Shoto began. "This is my family's ancestor, Queen Vegeta the Usurper. She was nothing like King Sadala. She didn't believe in peace or unity. She believed in power, in ruling through fear and strength. She was once the concubine of Prince Tarro the Noble, King Sadala's firstborn son. But she used her feminine charm and wit to become the wife of King Sadala himself. She gained his love, lowered his guard. Then one night, stole the Valorblade, and slew King Sadala with it. She then plunged the Saiyan Kingdom into war in a brutal coup. The Saiyan elites followed her, not because they respected her, but because they feared her. She was relentless, cruel. Her reign was one of conquest and bloodshed."
Gohan and Cabba listened in silence. Their eyes were glued on Shoto. His voice was steady, but there was a cold bitterness beneath it.
"She believed that Saiyans were destined to rule the world, that our strength set us apart, made us better than the rest. And the Elites—those who survived—were her most loyal followers. They reveled in her philosophy, and they passed it down through the generations. Her descendants were no different—each one was more sadistic and power-hungry than the last. One of the most infamous among them was her great-grandson, King Vegeta the Unbreakable."
Shoto looked at Gohan and Cabba, his expression dark. "If you want to understand why the Saiyans are hated by every other nation of the world, you need to see something. Come with me."
Gohan and Cabba exchanged uneasy glances, but followed closely behind. Shoto led them into a large, dimly lit chamber that felt almost sacred in its eerie stillness. Gohan's eyes widened with horror as he realized that this room was dedicated entirely to the Saiyan conquest of Namek.
The walls were lined with ancient tapestries depicting the Saiyan invasion. One showed Saiyan warriors towering over fallen Namekian soldiers. Another depicted a village in flames. Charred pieces of destroyed Namekian pottery were on display like some sick sort of trophy.
As they walked further into the room, they passed by gruesome statues that captured moments of brutality. One statue depicted a Namekian warrior with his arm torn off, and a muscular Saiyan standing over him with a triumphant smirk. Another showed a group of Namekian elders, their faces contorted in terror, surrounded by Saiyan warriors laughing at their misery.
And perched atop its own pedestal was a stone statue of King Vegeta the Unbreakable. The stone carving captured the king in a moment of raw, savage triumph. His stance was fierce and primal, with animal fur draped around his shoulders. His eyes were fierce, his mouth set in a snarl as he held a large orb high above his head. The orb had seven smaller stars sculpted into its center with great detail.
Gohan recognized it immediately, because it looked just like the charm that hanged off the side of his bracelet. It was a stone replica of a Dragon Ball, and this wicked man was holding it like a spoil of war in a complete desecration of the sacred orb that had brought hope to the Namekian people for ages.
Shoto walked past the statue of the monarch and Gohan had to force himself to tear his gaze away from it. At the center of the room was a large, ornate scroll encased in glass. It was clearly the focal point of the chamber. The faded Ajisa parchment was ancient, covered in golden Namekian script and frayed with damage, but still legible.
Shoto gestured toward the scroll, silently inviting Gohan to read it. Gohan stepped closer and after an uneasy gulp against his dry throat, he began to read the scroll aloud, translating the ancient language.
"My name was once Xylo Phon, proud king of Namek. In the days of those kings, our people lived in peace, united under the guidance of the Elders, and protected by the wisdom of Porunga, the Eternal Dragon of Namek. But that peace was shattered when King Vegeta the Unbreakable, great-grandson of the Usurper Queen, led his Saiyan warriors to our lands. They came with fire and blood, seeking to conquer and subjugate, to take what was ours as if by birthright."
Gohan's voice wavered as he continued, his fists clenching tightly by his sides.
Vegeta the Unbreakable took great pleasure in our suffering. He was a tyrant beyond measure, a demon wearing the flesh of a man. My people, my sons, my entire clan, were butchered before my eyes. Their screams haunt me even now. He desecrated our sacred lands, and all but erased our name from the face of this earth. And when all was lost, when our Kingdom had fallen, he named me King of the Lowest of Insects, and forced me to crawl at his feet, to write this cursed testament of our defeat.
Gohan's voice broke as he reached the final words of the scroll.
My name was once Xylo Phon, proud king of Namek, but now, I am King of the Lowest of Insects, slave to Vegeta the Unbreakable.
My name is now Lord Slug.
The room fell into a heavy silence. Gohan's trembling knuckles turned white as he struggled to contain his emotions. He glanced at the statue above the scroll and his teeth bared visibly. It depicted a Namekian child on its knees, and a powerful Saiyan with his boot on the boy's neck. Gohan reached out, placing his trembling hand gently on the Namekian child's head. Gohan lowered his head and closed his eyes, feeling a deep sense of sorrow and guilt.
"Gohan…" Cabba breathed with concern.
"How… How could they have been this cruel?" Gohan's hand curled into a fist on the statue's head. "Namekians are a peaceful people..."
Shoto, standing beside him, crossed his arms, and nodded.
"This is the truth of our people, Gohan. While we were taught to believe that the Saiyans were noble warriors, heroes destined to ascend to godhood, the rest of the world saw us as monsters who brought nothing but death and destruction. In the written history of every other nation that mentions the Saiyans, we are the villains, the scourge of the universe. In some accounts, they even say we were demons, sent to conquer lands for the Devil himself."
He scoffed, shaking his head. "Some angels."
Cabba stood silent, the weight of the truth settling on him as well. The bedtime stories that his grandfather would tell him of the valor and strength of the heroic Super Saiyans now felt completely hollow, tainted by the knowledge of the atrocities their ancestors had committed.
Shoto glanced at the two of them, his expression grim.
"This is why I have such disdain for our the Saiyans, even though I am one of them. We were taught to be proud of the warrior race we are, but how can we take pride in… this?" He gestured around the room at the depictions of the Saiyans murdering the Namekians.
"But Shoto," Cabba said, trying to lift the mood. "Those were old ways. After a while, Vegeta the Usurper's bloodline was overthrown and King Sadala's line was restored. It was King Kuroda the Heartseer who defeated King Vegeta the Crimson and took back the throne once again."
"By then, the damage was done," Shoto said. "The belief that we're some superior warrior race persisted among the Elites, and it lead to the another civil war later, when King Vegeta the Betrayer took control of the throne again, and killed King Shallot and his sons. The last grandson of Shallot, Prince Bardock, seems to have been killed off around that time, and with him gone, the lineage of House Sadala never reclaimed the throne again…"
Wait… Prince Bardock? Gohan glanced up.
"Yeah, one of history's greatest mysteries," Cabba said, rubbing his neck. "Every other member of House Sadala was murdered but Bardock… it's like he just… disappeared."
"Prince Bardock?" Gohan raised an eyebrow. "As in, Bardock the Wolf of Kansai?"
"Yeah," Cabba nodded. "Last son of Sadala – well, the pure royal bloodline, anyway."
"Wait a sec," Gohan shook his head, feeling his heart begin to hammer against his chest at what he was hearing. "How long ago did this happen?"
Cabba shrugged.
"I dunno, centuries ago?"
"The final Saiyan Civil War happened more than four thousand years ago," Shoto confirmed. He raised an eyebrow, catching on to Gohan's bizarre reaction. "Why?"
Four thousand years ago? That doesn't make any sense at all. He's… he's supposed to be my grandfather! Gohan scowled, but when he saw Shoto and Cabba staring at him, he quickly shook his head.
"Oh, it's… nothing," he quickly said.
"So the power-hungry ideals of House Vegeta are what came to shape the identity of all Saiyans," Shoto's eyes darkened as he continued, "I grew up surrounded by those ideals. Endeavor embodied them and passed them onto me. To him, power is everything. He's determined to make me the strongest, to continue the legacy of the Elites. It doesn't matter what it cost. My worth to him has always been measured by how strong I could become, how much pain I could endure."
Shoto lowered his eyes and gave off a sad smile.
"He's so obsessed with it, that it earned him his name – Prince Vegeta the Lord of Endless Endeavor."
Cabba and Gohan exchanged glances, and a spark of excited realization highlighted Cabba's eyes.
"So that's why they call him 'Endeavor'? That's so cool!"
Gohan noticed Shoto's eyes narrow slightly and the corners of his lips tightened, so he gave Cabba a not-so-subtle jab with his elbow.
"Ah, sorry!" Cabba gasped, realizing his mistake. "I meant his hero name was cool. Not… not how he treated your family."
"Yeah, well…" Shoto shrugged, but there was no dismissiveness in the gesture, only resignation. "It's the reality of being born into that kind of lineage. The Elites were once the most powerful Saiyans, and they believed they were above everyone else. But that kind of pride… it destroys everything. It destroyed them. That's why Endeavor's obsession with power nearly destroyed our family."
"Damn," Cabba sighed. "Is that how he became a Lord? All of the Saiyans I know are hybrids. Are there even any pure blooded Saiyans left at all?"
"Endeavor and Nappa are the last ones, that I know of," Shoto confirmed. "And yes, that is how the Prince became a Lord. Years ago, he and Nappa killed off the last remaining Elites when… well… that's a story for another time."
"But you're not like any of them at all, Shoto," Gohan said gently. "You chose a different path."
"Did I?" Shoto met Gohan's eyes, his expression softening just slightly. "I suppose I'm trying to. But it's not easy to escape the shadow of a father's legacy. Especially when the world expects you to follow in their footsteps. And isn't that what we're doing here? Following the Path of the Mighty? No matter how noble our intentions, the path we're on may shape us just as much as we want to shape it."
There was a long pause as the three of them stood in silence, deep in thought. Finally, Gohan spoke up.
"Maybe we can change that," he said, clenching his fists and smiling brightly. "Maybe we can be the generation that proves that Saiyans can be more than just warriors, more than just power-hungry conquerors. We can honor our ancestors while striving for something better at the same time."
"Yeah!" Cabba squealed, raising his fist. "We can be the heroes this time around! And maybe one day, thousands of years into the future, we'll be the statues that the future generations of Saiyans will look up to, and can actually feel proud of."
"Yeah!" Gohan chuckled, but raised his fist to bump Cabba's, "We'll be just like All Might!"
The two boys turned to face Shoto with an expecting grin.
Shoto breathed in and out, staring at the connected fists of his classmates. His features warmed slightly and he let out a sigh, raising his fist and crashing it into Gohan and Cabba's.
"Fine, count me in," he said and a small smile flickered across his face. But it quickly dropped into a confused scowl. "But why do you want to be Museum statue?"
"...huh?" Cabba's mouth dropped. "Oh no, that's not what I meant-"
"Are you saying you wish for your remains to be mummified here?"
"N-NO! That's insane!"
"That's so cruel to your family. What if they wanted to bury you with your ancestors?"
As Gohan burst out laughing at Cabba – and Shoto's – confusion, they heard the sound of quick, confident footsteps echoing through the chamber towards them. Caulifla sauntered in, drying her spiky black hair with a towel.
"Hey! I've been tearing this place up and down looking for you three nerds!" she drawled, folding her arms over her chest. "And where do I find you? Taking life lessons from a bunch of old rocks. What's next? You gonna ask them for advice on how kiss girls?"
Cabba frowned, barely masking his irritation with a cringing smile.
"These 'old rocks' are our ancestors, Caulifla. They—"
"Yeah, yeah, sure, whatever you say, Shiketsu," Caulifla interrupted, waving a dismissive hand. "They're all mighty and noble and whatever. But they're dead. Gone. And they can't exactly teach us anything we don't already know, can they?"
Gohan shifted uncomfortably, but there was a hint of a smile playing on his lips. He was slowly getting used to Caulifla's brash attitude, and there was something oddly refreshing about her lack of reverence. "Well, actually, we can learn a lot about what they did, and even when they messed up, we can still learn from their mistakes."
"Oh really?" Caulifla snorted, rolling her eyes. "The only thing we need to learn is how to be stronger than the next guy. That's all there is to it. All that matters is what we do with our lives now, today! Not what a bunch of dead guys did a thousand years ago."
"That is… a rather convincing argument, Caulifla," Shoto nodded.
"Just take a good look around. Not one of these statues show them firing off ki blasts," Caulifla continued, scanning the statues in the room. "I bet they probably didn't even know what a ki blast was. And if your precious King Sadala hadn't been such a huge perv and hadn't shacked up with his son's wife, he might not have gotten himself killed and then none of this awful stuff would have even happened!"
She gave the nearest statue a playful slap, as if to emphasize her point. But instead of standing firm, the statue of King Vegeta the Unbreakable wobbled ominously. Before anyone could react, the statue tumbled off its pedestal and came crashing to the ground, shattering into a pieces and scattering dust and rubble everywhere.
Everyone froze.
Caulifla stared down at the broken statue, her eyes wide.
"Oh, uh… he he he… whoops?" she said, eyes wide. "Guess he wasn't that Unbreakable."
Cabba's jaw dropped. "Caulifla, you just—"
"Okay, okay, let's not freak out!" Caulifla interrupted, quickly backing away from the scene of the crime. "It was just a little accident. I mean, it's not like anyone's going to notice, right?"
"I dunno, probably?" Shoto slipped his hands into his pockets and shrugged. "You just broke a five thousand-year-old statue of one of our ancestors, one of the most famous kings of Saiyan History and the centerpiece for this entire collection."
Caulifla waved a hand dismissively. "Pfft, it was already falling apart. The way I see it, Gohan should be thanking me for avenging the Namekian people. Besides, if they didn't want it broken, they shouldn't have called him, Unbreakable! You're just begging for it at this point!"
"Oh boy… Vegeta's gonna kill us!" Gohan groaned.
"No! Endeavor wouldn't kill you over a broken statue," Shoto said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "He'd probably maim you and make you sleep in the Gravity Room, but he wouldn't kill you."
Cabba and Gohan both plopped to the floor in disbelief.
"Let's… let's just get outta here before Caulifla breaks anything else," Cabba said.
"Yeah… 'sides, I'm starving. Let's go get something to eat at the cafeteria before Kale eats all the good stuff!" Caulifla agreed.
As his classmates headed for the exit, Gohan squatted down and picked up the only piece of the statue that hadn't been completely pulverized—the stone replica of the Dragon Ball. With care, he gently placed it back on the pedestal before quickly turning to follow his companions out of the room.
The once smooth surface of the orb was now marred by a jagged crack, a wound that had appeared the moment it hit the ground. As Gohan exited, a faint hum of energy began to pulse from the orb, and the crack began to deepen and snake around the orb's circumference.
In their hasty departure, no one noticed the orb's growing fissure or the faint, orange and red aura that began to seep from it, pulsing faintly against the dimly lit room. The orb continued to fracture, stirring an ancient, dormant power from its long slumber. The faint orange glow pulsed one more time from within the crack, before fading back into darkness.
…
CLUB DARK BLACK
KAMINO WARD
"Grrr! I really hate this game!" Tomura growled impatiently, leaning back on his chair. Across from the chessboard, All for One himself chuckled with a fatherly warmth, holding his elbow with one hand and tapping a pensive finger against his chin as he watched Tomura move his knight hastily across the board. His chuckle was ominous, and his spiky hair rattled with every gentle cackle.
"Bold move, Tomura," All for One grinned. "But by now, you should know; it is not enough to simply have power; you must know how to wield it."
"I've wrapped my head around it for weeks and it just doesn't make sense!" Tomura glared at the board, his frustration growing. "We had the numbers at USJ. We had Nomu. We should have won!"
All for One moved his bishop with a deliberate, unhurried grace. "Numbers alone do not guarantee victory. Nor does raw strength. Strategy, timing, and the understanding of your opponent's strengths and weaknesses… that is how true victory is obtained."
Tomura watched as All for One's bishop captured one of his knights. He gritted his teeth, feeling the sting of another loss. "But we were prepared," he insisted. "We had everything planned."
"Did you?" All for One's tone was calm, almost gentle, but the question cut deep. "You underestimated your opponent. You allowed emotion to cloud your judgment. In life, just like in this game, Tomura, our plans require precision."
Tomura moved his rook, attempting to set up an aggressive attack. All for One responded by advancing his queen, positioning it in a way that threatened several of Tomura's pieces. Tomura's frustration mounted as he realized the trap he had walked into.
"Take this piece, for instance," All for One said, tapping his queen. A wide, almost teasing grin stretched across his lips.
"Let's call it... Gohan." He moved his queen, and one by one, Tomura's pawns fell. "Gohan didn't rely solely on power, did he? After all, he was completely exhausted from his fight with Spopovitch and Yamu, separated from his classmates, and facing someone with ten times his strength… his own father. And yet, he succeeded because he used his intelligence, his training, and his understanding of your weaknesses."
Tomura's eyes narrowed. "You think I don't understand that?"
"I think you have much to learn," All for One replied sharply, capturing another of Tomura's pieces with his queen. "Your impatience has always been your downfall. You rush in, believing that sheer force will carry the day. But no—true power lies in the ability to foresee, to manipulate, to distort the board so nuch that your opponent has no choice but to fall. That's when you strike."
Tomura watched as All for One moved his pieces methodically, each move pushing Tomura further into a corner.
"Check," All for One said softly, his queen now positioned to threaten Tomura's king.
Tomura stared at the board, seeing the inevitability of his defeat. He moved his king, trying to buy himself more time. But All for One was now relentless, and with a swift move, he moved in, cutting off every avenue of escape.
"Checkmate," All for One declared, his queen capturing Tomura's king.
"I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS STUPID GAME!" Tomura's eyes blazed with fury as he slammed his hands down, disintegrating the board and sending pieces flying into dust. The remnants of the game scattered across the floor, but All for One merely smiled, amused by his protégé's reaction.
"And you are indeed powerful, Tomura," All for One said calmly, unphased by the destruction. "You come from a powerful bloodline, but you have only begun to scratch the surface of your true potential, much like Gohan."
Tomura's breathing was heavy, his fists clenched as he fought to contain his rage. "I don't care about potential! I just wanna to wipe that stupid grin off of Gohan's face, and all those other heroes!"
All for One leaned forward with a smile.
"Then use this time wisely, Tomura. Strengthen yourself. Go beyond your limits. Train until your body and mind are honed to perfection. The Saiyan blood runs through your veins, Tomura, as it runs through mine now… I know that together, we can discover the secret… you, too, can become a Super Saiyan."
All for One smirked and brushed the dust off of his shoulder and folded his leg over the other. He reached out and handed Tomura his Queen piece, Gohan.
"The budding League of Villains, the Majins, the Androids, the Nomu… these have all been very important pieces in your gameboard. I've been watching collect your pieces and set them all accordingly. But you are not ready yet. There's still a couple more pieces left to play on our board."
"What pieces?" Tomura's growled, gripping his hands into fists. "What's the final move, father?"
All for One chuckled softly. "Patience, my young apprentice. The final pieces will reveal themselves in due time. For now, I will double your training and your pain. Endure it, Tomura. Focus on becoming the force of destruction you are meant to be. And when the time is right, you will be powerful enough to defeat Gohan and anyone else who stands in your way. And then, the world will tremble before you."
With a growl, Tomura's hand closed around the Queen piece, dissolving it into decayed ash and crushing it in his hand.
Ending Song:
"Set It On Fire" by Divide Music
Izuku stirred awake in his bed, blinking groggily and slightly disoriented at first. Suddenly, he realized that the warm afternoon sun streaming through the window had long since faded, replaced by the cool, inky darkness of night. With a gasp, Izuku scrambled to sit up, his heart sinking with panic as he checked the clock on the wall. He was supposed to be taking a lunchtime nap, but now it was well past midnight!
"Oh no, oh no, oh no!" Izuku muttered frantically as he scrambled out of bed. How could he have let this happen? He had wanted to make a good impression, to show Master Roshi how serious he was about becoming a hero, but instead, he had slept through the day.
Still groggy from his nap, Izuku stumbled out of the small room that Roshi had set up for him. He rushed to the main living area of the apartment, expecting to find Master Roshi ready to reprimand him or—hopefully—ready to start more training. But when he entered, he found Roshi lounging in front of the television, engrossed in a program that made Izuku's face turn bright red.
Roshi didn't even look up as Izuku approached. "Ah, you're up, kid. Took you long enough."
Izuku's eyes darted away from the screen, where a bubble bath contest featuring bikini-clad women was playing out in vivid detail. He swallowed hard, tearing his gaze away from the suggestive images. "I-I'm really sorry I overslept, Master Roshi! But I'm ready to start training again!"
Roshi waved a hand dismissively, his eyes glued to the TV, chuckling to himself with a lecherous grin. "Relax, Kid. No need to beat yourself up. It's too late for serious training now. Just go take the trash out and hit the hay. We'll pick up again in the morning."
Izuku blinked, his face falling in disappointment. "But… Master Roshi, I—"
"No buts!" Roshi cut him off, his eyes still glued to the screen. "Take it easy tonight. There's plenty of time for training later. Resting well is just as important as eating and training. Besides, the Bikini Bubble Bath Competition only happens once every four years, and it's getting to the best part! We can resume our training tomorrow."
"Yes, sir," Izuku's shoulders slumped with a resignated sigh. Reluctantly, he turned and grabbed the trash bags from the kitchen. As he walked outside to the curb, he couldn't shake the feeling of frustration gnawing at him. This was his chance to learn from one of the greatest masters, and he had wasted precious time sleeping.
After dumping the trash, Izuku stood on the curb, the cool night air brushing against his skin. He looked out toward the direction of Dagoba Beach, the place where he had begun his journey with Master Roshi. He still had so much to learn, so much to prove. And if Roshi wasn't going to train him tonight, he'd just have to train on his own. After all, Roshi's training, though brutal in its repetitiveness and ridiculous amount of sets, was actually pretty basic and simple to grasp.
He could do it. Even if he only worked out for two hours and then returned, at least the day wouldn't feel like a total bust. Steeling himself, Izuku changed into his red running shoes started jogging toward the beach, his feet pounding against the pavement. The streets were quiet, most of the city's residents tucked away in their homes for the night. As he jogged, Izuku focused on his breathing, trying to push himself harder with every step.
As he neared the beach, however, something caught his attention. A bloodcurdling scream—a woman's scream—echoed through the night, sending a chill down Izuku's spine. He skidded to a stop, his heart pounding. A second scream caught Izuku's attention, coming from an alleyway that was tucked behind a parking garage for the beach. He couldn't just ignore that. He had to help.
Izuku took off in the direction of the scream, his heart hammering in his chest. He didn't know what he was running into, but he knew he couldn't let someone suffer if he could do something about it.
He rounded a corner and found a young woman backed up against a wall, surrounded by a gang of sneering villains. They were rough-looking and their evil intentions with the young girl was glinted nefariously in their eyes as they cornered their prey. One of them reached out to grab the girl, and that's when Izuku's body moved on instinct.
"Leave her alone!" Izuku shouted, charging forward with all the courage he could muster. He slammed into the closest villain with a shoulder tackle, knocking the man off balance. The man holding the girl loosened his grip in time for Izuku to leap high into a sweeping kick, connecting with the thug's head and sending him tumbling back. Izuku landed and raised two fingers at the other two men standing between the girl and freedom.
"Delaware SMASH!" He shouted, flicking both middle fingers at them. Two balls of condensed air pressure shot out and blasted the two thugs away, clearing the area and giving the girl an opportunity to flee.
"GO!" Izuku commanded. The girl hesitated, but when the villains picked themselves up, she dashed out of the alleyway and into the street, using her phone to call the police. Izuku lowered himself into the fighting stance that Roshi had taught him as the villains turned their attention to him.
"Well, well," the leader of the group sneered, cracking his knuckles as he approached. "Looks like we got ourselves a hero wannabe. You should've kept it moving, kid."
"You are the ones who should've kept it moving," Izuku squared his shoulders, trying to steady his trembling hands. "I'm not gonna let you hurt anyone tonight!"
The gang exchanged amused glances before bursting into laughter.
"A hero, huh? Hey, you guys," another thug sneered, "get a load of Small Might over here! AHAHAHA!"
Izuku clenched his fists, his mind racing. He knew he was outnumbered, and he wasn't even fully trained yet. But he couldn't back down now. The girl had done well in calling the police. Izuku just had to hold the villains down until then. Oh man… Master Roshi's gonna kill me!
The villains lunged at him. With a burst of determination, Izuku charged at the thugs, using everything he had learned from Roshi and his own experience. He dodged the first thug's swing and countered with a punch, sending the man staggering back. When another thug approached, Izuku jumped towards him and brought a knee up to the man's chest, knocking him against a wall and knocking him out. At first, he was making progress!
But then a burning sensation tore at his side and crawled all the way down. The grueling training he had done in the morning finally betrayed him. Izuku's punches and kicks slowly became sluggish, even hurting him more than it hurt the villains. The villains saw his weakened state and pressed the advantage, and soon, Izuku was completely overwhelmed.
"What's wrong, Small Might?" One of the thugs grabbed Izuku by the hair and yanked his head back, forcing him to his knees. "Not so tough now, huh?"
Izuku struggled, but his arms were pinned to his sides by the pink Bubblegum Quirk of one of the villains. Another thug pulled out a gun, aiming the cold barrel against Izuku's temple. "Say goodbye, kid."
Panic surged through Izuku's veins. Was this really it? Had he really failed? He thought of his mother, of All Might, of Gohan and Melissa, of Roshi and of all the people he wanted to protect, all the people that had placed their faith in him. He had let them down. He squeezed his eyes closed and looked away, bracing for the end.
The gunshot rang out and Izuku held his last breath in…
But the pain never came. Instead, Izuku felt a strange sensation—a tingling, buzzing energy crackling around him. He opened his eyes and gasped.
Everything around him was frozen in place. The villains, the bullet, even the falling leaves were suspended in midair. And all around him, light green sparks of One for All's aura danced like wild lightning.
Izuku's heart raced in fear and in awe. What's happening? What is this? Is this… One for All?
Before he could make sense of it, a voice echoed in his mind, urgent and commanding.
"Don't just sit there staring, run Kid!"
Izuku didn't need to be told twice. He pulled free of the villains' frozen grips, his body moving on autopilot. He sprinted away from the scene, his feet pounding the asphalt as he ran faster than he ever had before. All around him, the world stayed completely frozen in place.
After a few seconds, the green aura that held the thugs in place dissipated, and the bullet that was fired ricocheted wildly in the empty spot where there victim had been moments ago. The boy was gone, vanished into the night, leaving nothing but a trail of green sparks in his wake.
Izuku didn't stop running until he reached Roshi's apartment, breathless and shaken but alive. He collapsed against the door, his heart pounding in his chest as the reality of what had just happened began to sink in.
He had just tapped into a power he didn't fully understand, and it had saved his life. But more than that, it had shown him that he was capable of more than he ever imagined.
Still trembling, Izuku looked down at his hands, which were still faintly tingling with residual electricity. He didn't know what this new ability meant or how to control it, but one thing was clear: his journey was far from over. There was so much more to learn, about One for All, and so much more to master.
Suddenly, a loud crash echoed from the street behind him.
Izuku turned, his heart sinking as he saw the gang of thugs from earlier barreling toward him. Their faces were twisted with anger and determination, clearly furious that their prey had slipped away.
"There he is!" one of the thugs shouted, pointing at Izuku. "Get him!"
Izuku's eyes widened in horror. He had thought he'd lost them, but they had tracked him down. He was too exhausted to fight, and he knew he wouldn't be able to use One for All again so soon. The thugs spread out, surrounding Izuku, cutting off any possible escape routes.
The leader, the one who had almost shot him, sneered as he pulled out his gun once more.
"You got lucky back there, kid. But now, there's nowhere to run."
Izuku backed up against the door, his mind racing for a way out. Just as the thug raised his gun, the door behind Izuku creaked open. He glanced back and saw Master Roshi standing in the doorway, his expression a mix of annoyance and boredom.
"You punks," Roshi muttered, stepping out onto the porch. "Do you have any idea what time it is? You're interrupting the program I'm watching."
The thugs paused, confused by the sudden appearance of the old man. The leader frowned, keeping his gun trained on Izuku. "Outta the way, old man. This doesn't concern you."
Roshi's eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint flashing in them. "Doesn't concern me, huh? Let me tell you something, punk." He took a deep breath, his body beginning to swell and expand. Muscles rippled beneath his skin as he grew in size, his frail frame straightening and transforming into that of a massive bodybuilder.
With a puff of smoke that reminded him so much of All Might's muscle form transformation, Izuku watched in awe as Master Roshi's own Muscle Form took shape. Now his previously loose shirt strained against his bulging muscles. The old master's presence was suddenly overwhelming, his size and power radiating off him in waves.
The thugs staggered back, their confidence quickly fading as they stared up at the towering figure before them. Roshi loomed over them, his face set in a hard glare.
"Oh shit… I think I recognize this guy. Isn't that… Gran Torino?" One of the thugs stammered, paling noticeably. "Isn't he the old geezer who trained… ALL MIGHT?!"
"You see," Roshi said, his deepened voice dripping with irritation, "the Bikini Bubble Bath Competition only happens once every four years. And I really don't appreciate you punks ruining it for me."
The leader, now visibly shaking, tried to stammer out a response, but the words caught in his throat. The rest of the gang looked just as terrified, clearly realizing they had bitten off more than they could chew.
Roshi cracked his knuckles.
"Now," he continued, his eyes narrowing dangerously, "I suggest you all turn around and get out of here before I really lose my temper."
The thugs didn't need to be told twice. They scrambled over each other in their haste to get away, dropping weapons and tripping over their own feet as they fled into the night, terrified by the immense power of the old master.
Izuku watched them go with a sigh of relief. He turned back to Roshi, who had already begun to shrink back down to his normal size with a swift puff of smoke.
He is just like All Might! Izuku thought to himself, amazed.
"Master Roshi…" Izuku started, his voice filled with awe.
Roshi waved him off, heading back inside. "Get some rest, kid. You're gonna need it. We'll talk more in the morning about that fancy new power of yours." He turned on his TV again and sat down with another lecherous smile.
"Wait… you know about that, Master Roshi?" Izuku asked.
"Do I know about it?" Roshi laughed, his eyes widening as a beautiful blonde with huge breasts and a tiny red bikini was squealing with delight on the TV as she splashed around with three other girls in a Jacuzzi. "I'm downright jealous of it! Hohohohoho!"
Izuku felt another wave of disgust crawl through his skin. He slowly made his way upstairs. Exhausted but safe, he entered his room and quietly closed the door behind him. He leaned against it, letting out a long breath. Tonight had been intense, and his body ached from the strain, but he felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for Roshi's timely intervention.
Master Roshi wasn't just a legendary martial artist.
He was still every bit the warrior All Might had praised him to be. And if Izuku wanted to become a hero like All Might, he knew he still had much to learn from this lecherous but powerful master.