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CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Unworthy

Zukanna streaked across the sky, her golden aura blazing like a comet before fading as she powered down. Her flight slowed until she drifted aimlessly, her chest heavy with doubt and shame. The realization gnawed at her—her power wasn't truly hers. It wasn't the fruit of her blood, sweat, and tears but a wish made in her name.

"What am I?" she whispered into the wind, her voice barely audible over the rushing air. "I didn't earn this. I didn't fight for this. I cheated my way to the top."

Her thoughts spiraled as she spotted a remote island far below, an uninhabited patch of land surrounded by the vast ocean. She descended slowly, landing on the rocky shore. The sea breeze whipped her hair around her face, but she didn't notice. Her mind was a battlefield, torn between two voices.

One whispered that the power was a gift she used to protect others, a means to a noble end. But the other, louder voice screamed that she was a fraud—a disgrace to the Saiyan race, which prided itself on earning strength through struggle and perseverance.

She gripped her head, shouting into the emptiness, "Shut up! Just shut up!" Her voice echoed, carried away by the wind. Her legs gave out, and she sank to her knees, fists trembling against the rocky ground.

A sudden shift in the air made her freeze. She felt a familiar energy approaching—strong, steady, and unmistakable.

Broly.

Her heart clenched as she sensed him drawing closer. A cold shiver ran down her spine. Why is he here? she thought. What if he came to tell me I'm a disgrace? The idea twisted her stomach. She could endure many things, but if Broly voiced the thoughts already haunting her, she wasn't sure she could take it.

Broly landed nearby, his expression calm but focused. He was in his base form, his usual shy demeanor replaced by a regal confidence she had rarely seen. He approached her steadily, his movements deliberate, until he stood directly beside her.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his deep voice soft yet commanding.

Zukanna didn't look up, her gaze fixed on the ground. She shook her head silently, not trusting her voice.

Broly crouched beside her, his presence warm and grounding. "I heard what Piccolo said," he began gently. "I wanted to check on you. Make sure you were alright. But... it's clear you're not."

Her hands curled into fists as the floodgates opened. She lifted her head, her dark eyes shimmering with anguish. "How can I be, okay?" she said, her voice cracking. "Everything is a lie. Everything I've accomplished—it's all built on strength that isn't mine. I'm a fake. An imposter. I'm not worthy to call myself a Saiyan."

Broly's brow furrowed as he listened, his hands resting on his knees. He didn't interrupt, letting her pour out the storm raging within her.

"I've spent my whole life preaching about hard work, dedication, and earning your power," Zukanna continued, her voice rising. "But I didn't earn mine. I didn't work for it. It was handed to me—granted by a wish! How can I lead the Saiyans when I'm the opposite of everything we stand for?"

When she finally stopped, her chest heaving, Broly spoke. His voice was steady, carrying a quiet strength.

"You think you're an imposter," he said, "but look around you. Think about the people you've saved, the lives you've changed. Look at the races you've saved from extinction. Do you really think they care how your power came to be? You call yourself unworthy, but billions of people in this universe would disagree."

Zukanna blinked, stunned by the conviction in his tone.

"You are the queen of the Saiyans," Broly continued. "A protector of the weak. So, what if your strength came from a wish? It wasn't your choice—it was Guru's. How is that any different from my power? My strength comes from genetics. I didn't choose this, but I've embraced it because I have to. Same as you. You didn't ask for this, but you use it to protect everyone. That's what makes you worthy."

His words pierced through her doubt, but she wasn't prepared for what came next. Broly leaned closer; his gaze unwavering. "If it weren't for that power," he said softly, "I wouldn't be here. I'd probably still be out in space, rampaging, killing innocents. You stopped me. You saved me. So don't tell me your strength is worthless."

Zukanna stared at him, her lips parting slightly in awe. Broly wasn't one to talk much, but now he was laying his soul bare—and it was all for her.

"Wow," she said, a teasing smile tugging at her lips despite herself. "You had a lot to get off your chest, huh?"

"Yeah," Broly admitted, his expression softening.

Without thinking, he reached out, his hand brushing against her cheek. His touch was gentle, almost hesitant. Zukanna leaned into it, closing her eyes as his warmth steadied her racing thoughts.

"Don't lose your warrior spirit," Broly murmured, his thumb tracing her cheekbone. "Sure, you were granted power. But you've put in the work to make yourself strong. That's what makes you remarkable."

Zukanna opened her eyes, her gaze locking onto his. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "You think I'm remarkable?"

"Yes," Broly said simply. "You're remarkable, brave, beautiful... and all the other things you'd probably hurt me for not saying."

A flirty smile spread across her lips, and she moved closer to him, their noses almost touching. She could feel the warmth of his breath against her skin. Her heart raced as she leaned in and kissed him, her lips capturing his with a passion that had been building for far too long.

Broly's eyes widened briefly before he closed them, his arms wrapping around her waist as he deepened the kiss. In that moment, all her doubts melted away, replaced by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against hers.

The hours dragged on at the Lookout, the tension thick as the Z Fighters waited for Zukanna and Broly to return. They exchanged worried glances, their conversations scattered and short. Even Goku, usually the embodiment of optimism, was unusually quiet as he gazed out at the horizon.

Piccolo stood apart from the others, arms crossed, his face impassive. Inside, though, his thoughts churned. He had seen Zukanna's reaction when she learned about the wish. The weight of her pride and self-doubt was something he could understand all too well. He only hoped she could find peace with herself.

Finally, two energy signatures flared on the edge of their senses. The group perked up as Zukanna and Broly descended, their auras calm and steady. Zukanna's posture was more composed than when she had flown off, though her expression still bore traces of inner turmoil. Broly, towering and silent beside her, wore a protective air, his gaze occasionally drifting toward her as if ensuring she was truly okay.

Piccolo was the first to notice the subtle change between them. Their closeness was different now, a warmth that wasn't there before. His sharp eyes caught the faint, unspoken bond in the way Zukanna walked a fraction closer to Broly than she had before, and the way Broly's usual shyness around her had melted into quiet confidence. But he said nothing about it. Instead, he stepped forward, his voice calm but direct.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his dark eyes meeting Zukanna's.

She hesitated, her gaze flickering briefly toward Broly before nodding. "I am now," she said softly.

Piccolo exhaled, relief flashing across his features. "I owe you an apology," he said. "On behalf of Guru. The wish wasn't meant to burden you. Guru believed he was doing what was best for Namek, for you, and for the universe."

Zukanna's eyes softened as she listened. "I've forgiven Guru for what he did," she said. "But... it's going to take time for me to fully accept it. I still can't shake the feeling that I didn't earn this power."

Before Piccolo could respond, Goku stepped forward, his trademark grin lighting up his face. "Zukanna, listen," he said, his voice full of conviction. "Guru didn't wish for you to be the strongest warrior in the universe or anything crazy like that. If he had, you wouldn't have had to work for any of it. And that's the thing—you did work for it. You've trained harder than anyone I know, and you've pushed yourself past every limit. This power you have? It's still yours. You earned it."

Zukanna's lips parted slightly, her eyes searching Goku's for any sign of insincerity. But there was none—only pure, unshakable belief.

"He's right," came Vegeta's voice, cutting through the moment like a sharp blade. The group turned to him in surprise. Vegeta's arms were crossed, his eyes narrowed, but his voice carried a surprising softness. "For once, the clown makes sense."

Krillin snorted, barely containing a laugh. "Did Vegeta just agree with Goku? Somebody check the sky. I think it's about to rain cats and dogs."

Vegeta's glare turned on Krillin, sharp and menacing. The bald fighter immediately stiffened, his laughter dying on his lips. "Don't push your luck, human," Vegeta growled before turning back to Zukanna. "You worked for the strength you have now, sister. Forget about that wish. Focus on honing your strength. Surpass your limits. That's what we Saiyans do."

Zukanna stared at him, stunned. It wasn't often that Vegeta offered words of encouragement, let alone ones so heartfelt. She felt a lump rise in her throat but managed a small smile. "Thank you... all of you," she said, her voice steady but laced with emotion.

The group murmured their agreement, the tension that had hung in the air finally dissipating. Shortly after, Gohan, Trunks, and Nio—prepared to enter the Hyperbolic Time Chamber after the second group, for their turn at training again. Zukanna watched as they stood at the entrance, their youthful energy practically radiating from them.

Approaching the trio, she caught the tail end of their conversation. "What are you three talking about?" she asked, her tone curious.

Nio turned to her, his spiky black hair swaying with the movement. "Just going over strategies for the Cell Games," he said. "Making sure we're all ready."

"Are you?" she asked, her piercing gaze sweeping over them.

"As ready as we'll ever be," Trunks replied, his young face set with determination. Beside him, Gohan nodded in agreement, his confidence a mirror of his father's.

Zukanna's eyes lingered on them for a moment, a swell of pride in her chest. The hybrid children had surpassed most of the adults in power, and Nio, with his mutant Saiyan genes, was a force to be reckoned with. They were strong—more than strong enough to protect Earth if the unthinkable happened.

"Good," she said finally, her tone firm. "Because no matter what happens, Earth is going to need warriors like you."

The three nodded, their resolve unshaken. "It's time," she said. "Let's head back to Neo Sadala."

The Z Fighters nodded, and together they took to the skies, the weight of their mission pressing on their shoulders—but for the first time in a long while, Zukanna felt a sense of balance return. They would face Cell, and they would do it together.

The soft golden light of morning filtered through the grand windows of Zukanna's chambers. She lay reclined on a plush couch, her head resting on Broly's broad chest. His large hand gently played with her bangs; his touch delicate despite the immense power he wielded. Zukanna's eyes were closed, but her mind was far from restful.

"I keep thinking about it," she murmured, her voice soft but strained. "What if we're not ready? What if Cell is stronger than we imagined? What if—"

Broly's deep, steady voice cut through her anxious rambling. "We'll face it together." His tone was calm, resolute, and carried the weight of his faith in her. "You know you're not alone in this."

Zukanna lifted her head slightly, her emerald eyes searching his. "You always seem so calm, these days," she said with a faint smile. "Don't you ever worry?"

"Of course," Broly admitted, his gaze steady. "But worrying won't change what's coming. What will, is us giving everything we've got. And we will. Together."

His words struck a chord in her, and she leaned up to kiss him, her lips pressing against his with a mix of gratitude and affection. Broly responded with equal tenderness, his hands resting on her waist as he deepened the kiss. For a moment, the looming threat of the tournament melted away, replaced by the solace they found in each other.

Pulling back, Zukanna rested her forehead against his. "Thank you," she whispered. Then, with a reluctant sigh, she stood. "Time to get ready. The others will be here soon."

Broly nodded and rose with her, his massive frame towering over hers as they prepared for the day ahead.

One by one, the Z Fighters arrived at Neo Sadala. Goku, Vegeta, Gohan, Trunks, Krillin, Piccolo, and even Yamcha and Tien stood gathered in the grand hall, their expressions a mixture of determination and unease. The air was charged with anticipation, the kind that only came before a life-or-death battle.

Zukanna stood before them, her posture regal and commanding. She glanced at each of them before speaking, her voice carrying a firm resolve.

"Today, we face the fight of our lives," she began. "Cell is not going to hold back, and chances are he's stronger than any of us have prepared for. But that doesn't mean we can't win. We've trained, we've pushed ourselves, and we've overcome impossible odds before. This is no different. We will find a way to defeat him."

The room was silent for a moment, each warrior absorbing her words. Then Bulma stepped forward, holding a small tablet. "Zukanna," she said, her tone businesslike but laced with excitement. "The invention you asked for—it's done."

With a few taps on the screen, a hologram appeared, displaying a sleek device with intricate wiring and a glowing core. "This is a prototype Blutz Wave Emitter," Bulma explained, gesturing to the schematic. "It can force a Saiyan into the Great Ape transformation by emitting concentrated Blutz waves. But that's not all."

She smirked, clearly proud of her work. "With enough of these waves, the Saiyan could potentially transform into a Super Saiyan while in the Great Ape form."

Vegeta's eyes widened, and for once, he looked genuinely impressed. "You're saying you've found a way to bridge the gap between the Great Ape and Super Saiyan transformations?" he asked, his voice carrying an uncharacteristic note of admiration.

Bulma gave him a playful wink. "That's right, Your Highness. Impressed?"

Vegeta crossed his arms, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "You've outdone yourself, Bulma."

Bulma's cheeks flushed slightly, but she didn't miss a beat. "Well, I do try to keep my genius entertaining."

The exchange brought a flicker of levity to the tense group, but Zukanna quickly refocused their attention. "How many shots do we have?" she asked.

"Two," Bulma said. "The device isn't fully stabilized yet, so I'd recommend only using it as a last resort."

The Saiyans collectively shook their heads. "We won't use it," Vegeta declared. "Power earned through shortcuts is no power at all."

The others nodded in agreement, but Zukanna held up a hand. "I understand your pride, but if things go south, we can't afford to let Cell win. Bulma, keep it ready."

Bulma nodded, stowing the tablet. The room grew quiet again as the gravity of the situation sank in.

In the stillness, the Kais' voices echoed in Zukanna's mind. Good luck, Saiyan Queen, said Elder Kai. We will be watching.

Remember, we have faith in you, added Supreme Kai.

King Kai's voice chimed in last, tinged with his usual warmth. Give Cell hell. We're rooting for you.

Zukanna took a deep breath, centering herself. She turned to the group and held out her hand. "Everyone, grab on."

One by one, they placed their hands on her shoulders or arms, their combined energy thrumming in the air. Zukanna closed her eyes, locking onto Cell's ominous power signature. When she opened them, they burned with determination.

"Let's finish this," she said.

With a surge of energy, they vanished from Neo Sadala, reappearing moments later in the wasteland where Cell waited. The final battle was about to begin.