A Different Kind of Strength

by ScarlettBeat

ALSO ON AO3 UNDER SCARLETTBEAT When the Saiyans arrive on Earth, no one expects the third warrior to be a girl Gohan's age. As the daughter of Prince Vegeta, Cellera was raised to be the perfect Saiyan warrior - tactical, efficient, and merciless. But something about Earth's defenders makes her question everything she was taught about strength. Through their battles, both Gohan an

13. Chapter 13

Notes:

So...I know most may not care for the Garlic Jr Arc and may not want to read 17K WORD. But I'd like to think i attempted to make it matter more in 17k than in 8 episodes. For those who don't want to read that much, there's a TLDR at the end for ya.

Also I have made a tumblr blog for the series if anyone wants to check it out or ask questions. I'll probably occasionally post small little excerpts or one shots or something. I thought creating something where I can interact with you all would be fun!
https/blog/the-princess-and-the-scholar

A month had passed since the Namekians' departure to their new home, and despite October's arrival, summer's grip remained firm over Mount Paozu. The afternoon sun beat down on the riverside, its heat barely tempered by the occasional breeze that rustled through the trees. While the calendar insisted on autumn's arrival, the weather seemed determined to prove otherwise.

Cellera sat at the water's edge, her feet submerged in the cool stream as she watched Gohan dive beneath the surface. In the months since Namek, these peaceful moments still felt surreal – no battles to fight, no immediate threats to face. A smile tugged at her lips as three large fish suddenly launched from the water in rapid succession, landing in an ungraceful pile on the riverbank. Those poor fish, she thought, watching them flop helplessly. Gohan's strength had grown considerably, though he now used it more for household chores than combat.

The distant rumble of an engine drew her attention to the hill behind them. A red vehicle came to a stop at the crest, and out stepped Krillin, looking decidedly overdressed in a crisp white suit and matching hat. Cellera's brow furrowed slightly – in all their interactions, she couldn't recall him ever mentioning owning a car. The formal attire seemed particularly out of place in their rural setting.

Krillin made his way down the hill with exaggerated swagger, propping one leg up on the boulder beside her and resting his arm across his knee. He tipped his hat down with dramatic flair, prompting Cellera to eye his ensemble with undisguised curiosity. The formal attire was a far cry from his usual training gear or casual clothes. Something about his demeanor reminded her of the characters in those romance movies Bulma enjoyed watching.

"Hey Krillin! Wow, is that really you under there?" Gohan called out, grinning at his friend's unexpected appearance. The summer heat had driven them to the river regularly, but this was the first time they'd seen Krillin since the Namekians' departure.

Krillin lifted the hat from his eyes with a laugh. "How do I look?" His attempt at sophistication was somewhat undermined by the familiar warmth in his voice.

"I think it looks good on you," Gohan replied enthusiastically.

"What have you been doing?" Cellera asked, noting how different he seemed from the warrior who'd fought alongside them on Namek. Peace had changed them all, but Krillin's transformation seemed particularly dramatic.

"Oh, not much," Krillin said with attempted casualness that didn't quite mask something else in his tone – a mix of excitement and nervousness that piqued Cellera's curiosity.

Gohan began climbing out of the river, dragging two more fish behind him on a rope. As he pulled them past Krillin, the fish thrashed wildly, causing the well-dressed warrior to jump back with a startled yelp. His reaction drew a laugh from Gohan, the sound echoing across the water.

"Looks like we'll be having fish for a while," Gohan said, adding his latest catch to the impressive pile. The size of his haul would have fed a Saiyan army, though between his and Cellera's appetites, it would likely only last a few days.

Cellera turned to Krillin. "Would you like to help us gut and clean the fish?" She'd learned the skill from Chichi, who insisted that anyone eating at her table should know how to prepare their own food.

"No, thanks," Krillin replied, his tone oddly despondent for someone dressed so formally. The contrast between his elegant attire and the mundane task seemed to amuse him.

"Want to go for a swim?" Gohan offered. "The water's nice and cold!" His enthusiasm for simple pleasures remained unchanged, whether facing down galactic tyrants or enjoying a summer afternoon.

Krillin gestured at his pristine white suit. "Can't with these clothes."

"Just take them off like Gohan did," Cellera said matter-of-factly, earning a vigorous nod of agreement from her friend. The practical solution seemed obvious to her, though she'd learned humans had different ideas about such things.

Gohan's attention shifted to the hill behind them. "Hey, that's a really nice car! Is it actually yours?" The vehicle stood out against the rustic landscape, its glossy red paint catching the sunlight.

"Yep," Krillin replied, then added with slight hesitation, "Well, sort of."

Cellera noticed how Krillin's gaze lingered on the water, a touch of longing in his expression. The formal clothes seemed to be restraining more than just his movement – they were holding back the carefree warrior they knew. Finally, he seemed to relent.

"It has been a while since I've done anything like this," he admitted, removing his hat and carefully rolling up his sleeves and pant legs. The gesture reminded Cellera of their time on Namek, when titles and appearances had meant little in the face of survival.

Gohan made an excited dash back toward the stream, but just as Krillin lifted his foot to step in, an unfamiliar female voice rang out across the clearing, shattering the peaceful atmosphere.

"Krillin! What are you doing?!"

Krillin froze mid-step, his relaxed demeanor instantly replaced by tension. Cellera and Gohan turned to see a pretty young woman stepping out of the passenger side of the car. She wore a hot pink tube top dress with a green jacket, her style reminiscent of Bulma's fashion sense, though something about her presence felt less substantial.

"Are you coming, or what?" the woman called down, her voice carrying a hint of petulance.

"I'll be there in a second!" Krillin called back with a nervous laugh, scratching his neck. The confident warrior who'd faced down Frieza's forces had been replaced by someone Cellera barely recognized.

Cellera's brows drew together as she watched the newcomer fold her arms and huff in obvious annoyance. "Who is she?" she asked Krillin, a slight frown forming as she observed the woman's impatient demeanor. After months on Earth, she'd grown accustomed to reading human social dynamics, and something about this interaction felt off.

"Well, she's uh..." Krillin stuttered, but before he could finish, the woman had already started making her way down to them, her heels somehow navigating the uneven ground with practiced ease.

"Krillin. You didn't forget about me, did you?" she called out sweetly, though the sweetness seemed performative compared to the genuine warmth Cellera had come to expect from their other friends.

"Who, me?" Krillin gave another nervous laugh, prompting Cellera and Gohan to exchange questioning looks as the latter climbed out of the water. They'd seen Krillin face death with more composure than he was showing now.

The woman reached them, looking between Cellera and Gohan with open curiosity. "Yeah, you. Who're they?"

Krillin threw an arm around Gohan's shoulders, seeming grateful for the familiar presence. "Oh, these are my martial art partners, Gohan and Cellera." He gestured toward Cellera, who offered a polite nod and wave without removing her feet from the water, while Gohan managed a quiet "Hi." "You two, this is my 'friend' Maron."

The blush that spread across Krillin's cheeks at the word 'friend' told Cellera everything she needed to know about their relationship. She'd seen enough of Bulma's romance movies by now to recognize the signs, though she still found human courtship rituals puzzling.

"So which one's from outer space?" Maron asked, studying them both before pointing at Gohan. "Is it you?"

"Actually, it's Gohan's dad and Cellera," Krillin corrected, his embarrassment evident.

Maron giggled. "Oh right, I forgot!"

Cellera fought the urge to roll her eyes. The woman might share Bulma's looks, but she certainly hadn't inherited her intellect. The contrast between Maron's vapid response and Bulma's sharp mind couldn't have been more striking.

Bending down to Gohan's level, Maron smiled brightly. "You sure are cute! Did you know that?"

"Well, sort of," Gohan replied sheepishly, looking anywhere but at Maron. Despite facing down the galaxy's most fearsome warriors, simple compliments still made him uncomfortable.

She turned her attention to Cellera, flashing another friendly smile. "And you, you're just adorable!"

Cellera let out a small huff, refusing to acknowledge the comment. After eight months on Earth, she'd resigned herself to never escaping that particular descriptor. From the Ginyu Force to Bulma's mother to this stranger, it seemed her warrior's pride was destined to be undermined by that word.

Maron laughed at her reaction, seemingly unfazed. "You both have such beautiful black hair! I know some girls who'd do anything to have hair like yours."

"Hey, what about me!" Krillin protested playfully, a hint of jealousy in his voice. The warrior who'd once faced down Frieza's forces now seemed completely transformed by Maron's presence.

"Oh, Krillin, you're so silly!" Maron giggled, planting a kiss on his cheek that left him in a giggly daze.

Cellera and Gohan exchanged unimpressed looks, their shared thought obvious: Gross. Their bond, forged in battle and strengthened through peaceful days like this, allowed them to communicate volumes in a single glance.

Seemingly remembering his young audience, Krillin turned around and scratched his cheek, quickly changing the subject. "Hey, are you two coming to Master Roshi's party this afternoon? I know Bulma's going," he added, glancing at Cellera.

Despite Bulma's presence, Cellera felt reluctant to attend. While she respected Master Roshi's fighting capabilities – Bulma's stories had made his skill clear – his behavior toward women left much to be desired. She'd witnessed enough of his antics during visits to Kame House to last a lifetime.

Gohan's face lit up at the invitation before reality seemed to catch up with him. "If Mom lets me go," he added with a sigh, his excitement deflating like a punctured balloon.

"Your mother's too strict with all the studying," Krillin said, earning a confirming groan from Gohan.

Though Cellera shared their frustration, she understood Chichi's reasoning. According to Bulma's stories, Kakarot had grown up in the mountains with his grandfather, receiving only basic education after meeting Master Roshi at age twelve. His wife clearly wanted better for their son, and after months of studying alongside Gohan, Cellera had come to appreciate the value of knowledge beyond battle tactics.

"Maybe a miracle will happen and she'll let you go," Krillin shrugged. "Stranger things have happened."

"Yeah, maybe," Gohan agreed without much conviction, both of them knowing Chichi's determination when it came to his studies.

Krillin settled his hat back on his head, resuming his earlier attempt at sophistication. "Well, we better get going. See you two later, hopefully!"

Maron offered a cheerful wave as they made their way back to the car. Cellera and Gohan watched the red vehicle disappear over the hill, leaving them alone with their pile of fish and the afternoon heat. The peaceful moment they'd been enjoying earlier seemed altered somehow, as if Krillin's brief visit had reminded them that even in times of peace, change was constant.

Watching the car disappear, Gohan's expression brightened. "I'm really happy for Krillin," he said, excitement coloring his voice. "Dad's going to be so surprised when he gets back!"

With the afternoon wearing on, the two young Saiyans gathered their catch to head back to the Son household. Gohan hefted two massive fish while Cellera carried one plus the string of smaller ones. They had plenty of time to make it back and, if fortune favored them, possibly attend the party at Kame House – assuming they could convince Chichi.

As it turned out, fortune wasn't on their side. Just as Cellera finished washing the last traces of fish from her hands, she glanced over to see Gohan trailing after his mother to the stove, deploying what she'd come to recognize as his ultimate technique: the tearful plea.

"Please, mom?" Gohan's expression was so pitiful that even Cellera had to look away.

"Gohan, you know how important your studies are," Chichi responded, unmoved by her son's technique. "You don't want to fail and blow your chance of getting into college someday, do you?"

"No," Gohan replied with clear reluctance.

Cellera held back a snort. The idea of Gohan failing academics was perhaps the most ridiculous thing she'd heard since arriving on Earth. She'd witnessed firsthand how quickly he grasped complex concepts, often explaining them to her in ways that made more sense than the textbooks.

"Then that's final," Chichi's tone brooked no argument as she shooed both children back toward Gohan's room. "We won't discuss this anymore."

Yet here they were, soaring above the treetops toward Kame House, the afternoon sun at their backs. Gohan had changed into his training gear that mimicked Piccolo's style, while Cellera wore her modified Saiyan armor from the Frieza battle – the shoulderless battle jacket and skirt combination over her black full-body compression suit.

Cellera still couldn't believe she'd agreed to this. When Gohan had suggested sneaking out his window to attend the party, she'd initially refused outright. But those pleading eyes – the same ones that had failed to move his mother – somehow worked their magic on her. She'd eventually relented, though not without warning him that if Chichi discovered their absence, she'd likely never let him out of her sight again.

Still, she couldn't deny the familiar rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins. It was different from battle excitement, yet somehow similar – a hint of danger, the thrill of defying authority. For someone raised in Frieza's iron rule, this small act of rebellion felt strangely liberating.

Their flight was interrupted when the forest below erupted into chaos. Flocks of birds burst from the canopy in scattered patterns, their usual grace abandoned in what appeared to be blind panic. On the forest floor, animals fled in stampeding masses, their fear palpable even from this height.

The cause soon became apparent as an ominous black fog began creeping through the trees, spreading like spilled ink across the landscape. Both children instinctively increased their altitude, watching the strange phenomenon with growing concern.

"Is this normal for Earth?" Cellera asked, though she suspected she already knew the answer. After eight months, she'd grown familiar with most of the planet's natural phenomena.

Gohan shook his head, his expression troubled. "I've never seen anything like this before."

They hovered for a few moments longer, watching the dark mist continue its inexorable spread. Something about it felt wrong – beyond just its unusual appearance. But with the threat of discovery by Chichi looming over them, they exchanged a quick glance before resuming their course toward Kame House, though both kept casting worried looks at the expanding darkness below.

After thirty minutes of flight, Kame House's familiar silhouette appeared on the horizon. "Man, they're gonna be surprised to see me!" Gohan laughed, his excitement barely contained.

Cellera shot him a knowing smirk. "Remember, if your mother shows up, I take no responsibility for your actions." Despite her words, she knew she was just as complicit in this rebellion.

A ripple in the otherwise still ocean caught their attention, prompting them to descend for a closer look. Without warning, Maron burst from the water, one arm locked around Krillin's neck, shouting "Gotcha!"

The couple turned at Gohan's greeting, their faces lighting up at the unexpected arrival. However, Krillin's expression quickly shifted to something more serious. "Hey, uh, you should know... your mom's actually at Kame House."

Cellera and Gohan exchanged alarmed looks, their earlier confidence evaporating instantly.

"Uh oh!" Gohan's voice cracked slightly with panic.

"Perhaps I should retreat to Capsule Corp," Cellera muttered, already calculating the fastest escape route. But Gohan turned those pleading eyes on her again – the same ones that had gotten them into this mess – and she felt her resolve crumbling. How did he manage to do that?

Krillin looked between them, understanding dawning on his face. "Oh man, you two snuck out, didn't you?"

"She's gone completely ballistic!" Maron added helpfully, causing both children to wince. "Hey, I know!" she brightened. "Krillin should take the blame! Tell her it was all his idea!"

Cellera shot the woman a sharp glare. The suggestion to sacrifice Krillin –their friend – to save their own skins felt wrong after everything they've been through together.

"Are you kidding?" Krillin's voice jumped an octave. "I don't have a death wish!"

"So you don't respect my ideas?" Maron's mood shifted instantly. "You think I'm dumb!"

"No, no, that's not it at all!" Krillin backpedaled frantically, his composure crumbling in the face of Maron's accusation.

Cellera rolled her eyes as Krillin caved to Maron's manipulation. "I'll take the blame," he announced with forced bravado.

"Thanks, Krillin!" Gohan beamed.

"Are you certain about this?" Cellera asked, though Krillin's immediate dive underwater answered her question more eloquently than words could have.

The journey to Kame House took five minutes – a duration that made Cellera internally cringe. At full speed, they could have covered the distance in one, but Maron's lack of flight capability had forced them to maintain a slower pace.

They stood before the door of Kame House, its familiar frame suddenly seeming as intimidating as Frieza's ship. A sudden surge of ki made the hair on their necks rise, and they turned to find Chichi standing behind them, arms crossed.

Something felt wrong. Cellera studied the woman's face, noting the absence of her usual protective anger. Where there should have been maternal fury, she saw something else entirely – something cold and alien. The others seemed oblivious, too caught up in their own nervousness to notice.

Gohan stepped forward, his voice thick with genuine remorse. "Mom, I'm really sorry—"

Cellera's instincts screamed. Before Chichi's strike could connect, she yanked Gohan backward by his white collar, positioning herself between mother and son. Her hand caught Chichi's wrist mid-swing, stopping what would have been a devastating blow to Gohan's face.

"I knew it," Cellera's eyes narrowed as she maintained her grip. "Something's wrong with your mother, Gohan."

The sadistic smirk that spread across Chichi's face confirmed her suspicions. After months of living alongside the fierce but loving woman, Cellera knew one absolute truth – no amount of anger would ever drive Chichi to physically strike her precious son. This wasn't Chichi – at least, not anymore.

Chichi lunged again, this time targeting Cellera, who leapt onto the roof to avoid the strike. The possessed woman followed, each landing shattering roof tiles with frightening force. Cellera winced at the damage – she'd definitely be hearing about this from Master Roshi later.

As she continued deflecting Chichi's attacks, Cellera felt a twinge of irony. She'd often wondered about sparring with Gohan's mother after learning of her participation in the tournament where she'd married Kakarot, but not under these circumstances. Her thoughts were interrupted as the door below burst open, revealing Yamcha, Bulma, and Master Roshi – all wearing the same unsettling expression as Chichi.

Gohan landed on the roof between them, his hands raised in a placating gesture. "Mom, please! I promise I'll be good! I'll study hard and do everything you say!"

But the possessed Chichi continued her advance, that unnatural smile fixed on her face, eyes glowing an eerie pink.

"Gohan, look at her eyes," Cellera directed his attention to the unnatural color. "This isn't your mother right now."

As they backed away from Chichi's relentless approach, Gohan's foot slipped on a loose tile. His mother seized the opening, striking with frightening speed. Cellera blocked the attack, teeth gritted with effort. Whether this was Chichi's natural strength or something enhanced by whatever force possessed her, the power behind each blow was impressive.

"Help Krillin and Maron," Cellera commanded. "I'll handle your mother."

Gohan hesitated, clearly torn between helping their friends and the reluctance to fight his own mother. After a moment's internal struggle, he nodded and jumped down to assist with the others, who were fending off the possessed Bulma, Yamcha, and Roshi.

The exchange of blows continued, neither fighter giving ground. Then Cellera appeared to lose her footing, falling backward. As expected, Chichi pounced on the apparent opening.

"Sorry, Chichi," Cellera muttered, using the woman's momentum against her. With a swift movement, she threw Chichi off the roof and onto the beach below, the sand softening her landing.

Cellera landed beside Chichi's prone form just as Gohan rushed over, concern etched on his face. "She'll be fine," Cellera assured him, knowing the woman's resilience firsthand. "Your mother's stronger than most warriors I've known."

Their attention snapped to Kame House as Krillin crashed through its walls. "Krillin!" they called out in unison, watching their friend struggle to his feet. The possessed group advanced toward them with unnatural synchronization, Chichi rising to join their ranks.

As they backed away, finding themselves increasingly cornered, Cellera's eyes locked onto Bulma. The woman who'd welcomed her into her home, who'd shown her there was more to life than constant battle, now wore an expression that brought back unwanted memories of Frieza's crueler soldiers. The contrast made her stomach turn.

Laughter echoed from above, drawing their attention skyward. Four unfamiliar figures descended through the air, their presence radiating malevolent intent.

"Who are these goons?" Maron asked, clutching Krillin's arm.

For the first time since meeting her, Cellera found herself sharing Maron's sentiment as they watched their possessed friends and family drop to their knees in eerie unison, bowing before the newcomers.

"What did you do to them?" Cellera demanded, her voice carrying the edge she usually reserved for battle. The sight of Bulma and Chichi prostrating themselves like this felt fundamentally wrong – an offense against everything she'd come to value about Earth's independent spirit.

"They've inhaled the black water mist, little girl," the horned, red-haired alien announced with casual cruelty. "They belong to us now."

"Oh no they don't!" Gohan shot back, his voice trembling with rage. "That's my mom and our friends! They belong to us!"

A smaller red alien stepped forward with a mocking grin. "Why don't you ask them?"

Cellera and Gohan moved in unison, taking an aggressive step forward until Krillin's warning voice called out behind them. "Wait, you two!"

"No. I'm not scared," Gohan declared, his fists clenched. "These freaks did something to my mom!"

"And Bulma," Cellera added, her voice carrying the deadly calm that usually preceded violence.

Mustard's smile widened. "We sure did. So?"

"So, I'll give you one chance right now to change them back." Cellera's growl carried echoes of her Saiyan heritage, a sound she hadn't needed since Namek.

Salt threw his head back with mocking laughter. "We can't, you fools! Only the sacred water kept at Kami's Lookout can do that."

His casual admission only served to fuel their anger, but something in his words caught Cellera's attention. He'd revealed the cure too easily, almost as if he wanted them to know. Her eyes narrowed as she studied the group, searching for the trap hidden beneath their apparent overconfidence.

"Sacred Water?" Gohan's question carried a mix of hope and suspicion.

"I've never heard it mentioned in any of Bulma's stories about your father," Cellera said, her mind already racing through everything she'd learned about Earth's history.

The purple alien in the horned hat stepped forward with exaggerated sympathy. "That's right! But Kami is on an extended leave of absence."

"Too bad, aye?" added the one whose polished appearance reminded Cellera uncomfortably of Zarbon. "But don't worry. Our boss, Garlic Jr. is the guardian now."

Gohan's blood ran cold at the name. Memories flooded back – being kidnapped, watching helplessly as his father and Piccolo nearly died, the terrifying moment when his power had erupted, helping to seal Garlic Jr. in the Dead Zone. He'd been around three years old, but those memories remained crystal clear.

Cellera noticed the shift in Gohan's energy – not just anger, but recognition as she looked at his clenched fists and gritted teeth.

Spice's smirk widened. "Oh, I see you remember him." His voice dripped with false sweetness. "Lord Garlic will be pleased. Give up, you're outnumbered."

Rage overcame caution. Gohan launched himself forward, barely registering Cellera's attempt to stop him. How dare they bring back the nightmare from his earliest battles? But mid-stride, his body froze, caught in an invisible grip that was horrifyingly familiar.

Cellera felt it too a moment later, the same helpless sensation they'd experienced fighting Guldo on Namek. But this was different – no one was holding their breath, no obvious source of the power that held them immobile. Something about this enemy was far more dangerous than they'd initially assumed.

The four men extended their hands, their combined power holding Gohan immobile. "It's useless," one taunted. "The more you struggle, the tighter our hold becomes."

Cellera forced herself to breathe slowly, remembering how anger had trapped her during their battle with Guldo. But standing idle while they threatened her friend wasn't an option either.

"It's hard to believe a small fry like you trapped Garlic Jr. in the Dead Zone," Spice sneered at Gohan. Cellera's brows furrowed at the reference. This was the second mention of Gohan's history with this Garlic Jr., and what exactly was the Dead Zone?

Before she could voice her questions, a ki blast cut through the air, barely missing the pretty alien but forcing him to release his hold on Gohan. The beam struck the ocean, sending up a massive splash and cloud of steam. Cellera sensed the familiar energy before she saw him – a smile tugging at her lips as she looked up at Kame House's roof.

"Piccolo," Spice growled.

The Namekian stood atop the building, arms crossed, his expression promising retribution for those who'd dared attack his student.

"Yes! Piccolo!" Gohan's voice carried equal parts relief and excitement at his mentor's arrival.

One of the men chuckled. "This will be fun."

"Fun?" Piccolo's voice dripped with contempt. "You call making innocent people into your mindless, sadistic puppets fun?"

Salt stepped forward with a smirk. "Garlic Jr. can destroy you at any time."

Cellera rolled her eyes at their arrogance. After just one sparring session with Piccolo, she understood why he'd held his own against Frieza's early forms. These creatures clearly had no idea what they were dealing with.

"He has Kami held captive, you fool," he continued, wiping the confidence from Cellera's expression. She remembered Bulma's explanation of Kami and King Piccolo's connection – how they were once one being, split between good and evil. If either died, both would perish, taking Earth's Dragon Balls with them.

"What? Garlic Jr.'s back?" Piccolo's surprise quickly shifted to resignation as their possessed allies and the four warriors began to advance. "Oh, great."

Spice directed a calculating look at Piccolo. "You've always had a fascination with the dark side. Why not join Garlic Jr. while you still can? He's about to take over the planet."

Piccolo's responding laugh carried genuine amusement. "How can someone stupid enough to get caught in his own trap take over the planet?"

From below, Cellera silently agreed with Piccolo's assessment. The other warriors, however, bristled at the insult, their stances shifting to attack positions.

"Get ready to move in fast," Krillin whispered to Gohan and Cellera.

"But Krillin!" Maron's wail cut through the tension. "You're supposed to protect me from danger!" Her rising voice threatened to give away their position until Krillin quickly covered her mouth.

Cellera fought back a surge of frustration. They needed to get Maron somewhere safe – her presence was becoming a liability they couldn't afford.

"How did your brainless boss escape the Dead Zone anyway?" Piccolo's question made the purple-hatted alien – Vinegar – visibly bristle.

"Settle down," Spice cautioned his companion before pointing skyward with dramatic flair. "It was the power of the Makyo Star."

He continued with growing satisfaction, clearly relishing the explanation. "A precise, rare alignment of planets and stars has powered all creatures of the night. Lord Garlic Jr. used that energy as a springboard to shatter his prison and escape." His laughter echoed across the island. "He's taken over the lookout, seated comfortably on the throne as Earth's new guardian. Kami and Mr. Popo are nothing more than decorations now, watching helplessly from their little glass jars."

The casual cruelty in his tone made Cellera's fists clench. She'd heard similar speeches from Frieza's men – the same smug satisfaction in others' helplessness. Some things, it seemed, were universal.

"With the Black Water Mist, these plebeians worship us as their gods," one of the warriors, Vinegar, gloated. "And soon, they'll stay that way forever!"

"What do you mean, for good?" Cellera demanded, her voice sharp with concern.

Salt's grin widened. "Once twenty-four hours pass, the change becomes permanent! Not even the Sacred Water can save them then!"

"Who are you fighting for, Piccolo?" Spice gestured toward their possessed allies on the roof. "No one wants your help."

Piccolo's only response was a low chuckle as he reached for his turban and cape. Cellera, Gohan, and Krillin tensed in anticipation – they'd seen enough of Piccolo's battles to know what that gesture meant. The real fight was about to begin.

As the warriors took to the air, Piccolo launched the first strike. Vinegar vanished, reappearing with his companions. "If that was your best shot, you're in trouble."

"Gohan, help Piccolo," Cellera directed, noting Yamcha's approach. "I'll assist Krillin down here."

Gohan nodded before rocketing skyward. Below, Master Roshi had Krillin on the defensive, throwing a barrage of punches and kicks that the younger fighter barely dodged. Krillin's reluctance to harm his former teacher was obvious in every movement.

"Some expert fighter you are," Maron complained from the sidelines. "You can't even beat an old man!"

The distraction cost Krillin his focus. As Roshi's kick came sailing toward him, Cellera intervened, catching the old master's leg. Using his own momentum, she sent him crashing through another section of his house's wall. He's really going to be upset about the repairs, she thought fleetingly.

Bulma and Chichi charged at her simultaneously, but Cellera simply lifted into the air. Unable to stop their momentum, the two women collided with each other and crumpled to the ground, unconscious. Sorry, Bulma, she mentally apologized to her friend. You can yell at me about this later.

They regrouped above the ocean's surface, joining Gohan and Piccolo. "What do we need to do?" Gohan asked urgently, ready for his mentor's instructions.

"Take off now," Piccolo commanded. "Get the Sacred Water."

Gohan's expression twisted with obvious reluctance, torn between duty and loyalty. He didn't want to abandon his teacher to face these enemies alone.

"Piccolo knows what he's doing," Cellera assured him, with Krillin nodding in agreement as he held onto Maron. "If we don't get that water," Cellera added, her voice gentle but firm, "your mother and the others are doomed."

Gohan's face set in determination as he gave a firm nod. As they prepared to depart, Piccolo's warning followed them: "Be careful. Garlic Jr. will be guarding the water."

They'd barely covered any distance when Piccolo's yell cut through the air. Turning back, they witnessed a horrifying sight – Spice and Vinegar restraining Piccolo while their possessed friends sank their teeth into his neck. Cellera quickly grabbed Gohan's arm as he instinctively moved to help his mentor.

"He's given us a mission," she reminded him, though the sight disturbed her as well. "He's counting on us."

As they resumed their flight toward the lookout, something nagged at Cellera's tactical sense. The sequence of events felt wrong. Piccolo was too experienced, too powerful to be overtaken so quickly. Their departure, his capture – it had happened in mere moments. A suspicion formed in her mind: had Piccolo deliberately allowed himself to be captured?

She pushed the thought aside for now. Whatever Piccolo's true strategy might be, their priority was clear – reach the lookout and secure the Sacred Water before time ran out.

---

As they resumed their climb toward Kami's domain, Cellera found herself reflecting on how quickly a simple afternoon had descended into chaos. Just hours ago, she and Gohan had been sneaking out his window to attend Master Roshi's gathering - something she still couldn't believe she'd agreed to. But those pleading eyes of his had worn down her resolve, as they always seemed to do.

Now here they were, climbing toward The Lookout with time running out. Their brief stop at Korin Tower had at least provided some answers about the Black Water Mist, though leaving Krillin behind with an increasingly clingy Maron hadn't been part of their original plan. The ancient cat's complaints about his sacred tower becoming a "beach resort" had almost made her laugh, if the situation hadn't been so dire.

The massive structure that materialized before them seemed to defy logic at this altitude, its ancient architecture both beautiful and forbidding against the corrupted sky. Despite everything they'd faced already, Cellera couldn't shake the feeling that their real battle was just beginning.

"I'm worried about Piccolo," Gohan's voice cut through her thoughts. "The way those guys held him down while everyone..." He trailed off, the memory of their possessed friends swarming their mentor clearly haunting him.

"Something about that whole scene felt wrong," Cellera said, pressing her thumb to her lip. The sequence had happened too quickly - Piccolo was too experienced to be caught so easily. Besides, the look in his eyes right before... She kept her suspicions to herself for now. "We'll figure it out once we get the Sacred Water."

They flew in silence for a moment, the wind whipping past them. Unlike their usual comfortable quiet during training, this one felt heavy with unspoken concerns. On Namek, at least she'd known their enemies - had understood Frieza's forces, their techniques, their weaknesses. But now they were flying toward a battle against someone she knew nothing about, save for Gohan and Piccolo's obvious unease at his name.

"Tell me something," she said, turning to study her friend's face. "You and Piccolo clearly have history with this Garlic Jr. - it would help to know what we're facing."

Gohan's expression grew serious, his brow furrowing in concentration. "I honestly don't remember much. I was barely three when it happened." His hand drifted to where his old hat with the Dragon Ball used to rest. "He kidnapped me for the Dragon Ball I wore... I remember being terrified, and then just getting so angry when he tried to kill Dad." He shook his head, frustration evident in his features. "Everything after that is just... blank."

"Do you know if he managed to collect all the Dragon Balls?" Cellera asked. "What he wished for?"

"No, sorry," Gohan's shoulders slumped slightly. "I wish I could be more helpful."

"Don't apologize," Cellera's voice carried its usual steady confidence, though softened by understanding. "Unlike me, you weren't physically or mentally prepared for combat at that age."

Gohan looked at her with surprise. "You remember me telling you that?"

A slight smile curved Cellera's lips. "Did you think I'd forgotten?" The genuine warmth in her voice contrasted with their ominous surroundings. "It was the first time I'd ever heard someone with Saiyan blood want to be something other than a warrior." Her smile widened. "A scholar, of all things."

Gohan's embarrassed laugh echoed through the thin air, the sound warming something in Cellera's chest, a brief respite from the growing darkness around them.

"Though for now," she added with a knowing smirk, "I'm going to need the universe's most powerful Saiyan good guy."

The reference to his excited declaration while trying on Saiyan armor on Namek made Gohan's cheeks flush crimson. The memory was still vivid - how he'd struck poses and was practicing his technique, not realizing she'd been watching with barely contained amusement until it was too late. Still, he met her eyes with firm resolve and nodded. "Right!"

They touched down on the Lookout's marble tiles, the devastation before them immediately sobering their mood. Broken trees lay scattered across the courtyard, ancient columns split in half, and deep craters scarred the once-pristine flooring. Cellera tried to imagine how serene this place must have been before Garlic Jr.'s arrival - she'd heard stories from Krillin about the sacred sanctuary that floated above the world.

A sudden pulse of dark energy radiated from the palace before them, so potent it made her skin crawl. "Be on guard," she warned, falling into a defensive stance.

A figure emerged from the shadowed doorway - short in stature with blue skin and pointed ears, but radiating a confidence that set Cellera's combat instincts on high alert. She felt Gohan tense beside her, his earlier warmth replaced by a rigidity she rarely saw in him.

"That's him?" she asked, not taking her eyes off their enemy. The slight tremor in Gohan's confirming "Yeah" told her more than any explanation could have.

The malevolent energy seemed to coalesce around Garlic Jr.'s form as he studied them, his lips curling into a predatory smile. She couldn't help drawing parallels to how Frieza would regard his victims - that same cruel anticipation before striking. Whatever gaps remained in Gohan's memory of their first encounter, she had a feeling they were about to understand exactly why this enemy had left such an impression on both him and Piccolo.

"All this fuss over two children?" Garlic Jr.'s eyes glinted with malicious amusement. "You want the Sacred Water so badly? Come and take it."

They didn't need another invitation. Cellera and Gohan launched forward in perfect synchronization, their countless training sessions evident in how they moved as one unit. But before they could reach their target, crackling energy forced them apart. The attack's familiar signature made both children's eyes widen as the smoke cleared to reveal its source.

"Piccolo!"

The name had barely left Gohan's lips when Cellera's sharp warning cut through the air: "Wait! The Black Water Mist!"

The sight of Piccolo made Cellera's breath catch. Piccolo's usual composed stance had been replaced by something feral, his body twitching with unrestrained aggression as Spice barely maintained his grip on him. But something about his movements caught her attention - they seemed almost... theatrical.

"What took you so long?" Spice's casual tone dripped with satisfaction. "We've been expecting you."

Cellera's mind sorted through their options. Kakarot and her father were somewhere in the depths of space. Krillin remained at Korin's tower, and even if they could somehow contact him, Maron complicated any possibility of his help. Other potential allies like Tien had likely already succumbed to the Black Water Mist's influence.

The odds looked grim, but memories of Namek steeled her resolve. She and Gohan had faced down Frieza himself - a being whose power had terrorized the universe. They'd stared into the face of that impossible challenge and refused to back down. This situation might seem dire, but they'd survived worse.

Garlic Jr. strode forward with deliberate steps, his minions parting before him like waves. Despite the oppressive energy rolling off him, neither Gohan nor Cellera yielded ground. They met his confident smirk with unwavering glares.

"Where is your father, Gohan?" His voice carried false sweetness. "I need him here to exact my revenge on you both."

A feral growl from Piccolo drew Cellera's attention. She studied his thrashing form more carefully now - his behavior seemed markedly different from the other infected victims. Where Bulma and the others had maintained some semblance of controlled aggression, Piccolo's possession appeared almost... exaggerated.

"Something amusing?" Garlic Jr.'s eyes narrowed as soft laughter escaped Cellera.

"Just the thought that Kaka-" she caught herself, the unfamiliar name feeling strange on her tongue. "That Goku would cower and hide from someone like you."

The casual dismissal struck its mark. Garlic Jr.'s composed facade cracked slightly as he turned to face her fully. "And who exactly are you?"

"Don't trouble yourself with the details," Cellera's lips curved into a predatory smile that would have made her father proud. "You won't be alive long enough to need that information."

A muscle twitched beneath Garlic Jr.'s eye. "We'll see about that, you little brat." He turned back to Gohan, forcing his expression to smooth. "I'll give you one last chance to tell me where your father is. And don't try to be clever about it."

"I'll never tell you," Gohan's voice carried none of its usual gentleness as his power surged, the force of his aura making his hair stand on end. "So stop asking!"

He launched forward with devastating speed, throwing a punch that most observers would have sworn missed entirely. But Cellera's trained eye caught the truth - Garlic Jr. had barely managed to dodge, and even then, Gohan's strike had grazed him. Pride swelled in her chest at how far Gohan had come since their first battle.

Garlic Jr. halted mid-stride, bringing a hand to his face. When he turned back to them, raw fury twisted his features as he glared at Gohan, a thin line of blood marring his blue cheek. Something flickered in his eyes as he studied the boy - recognition, perhaps memory - and whatever he saw only seemed to deepen his hatred.

Gohan's power continued to pulse around him as he brought his hands above his head, gathering energy for his signature attack. Cellera shifted her stance beside him, channeling her own ki into a devastating blast. Their combined power made the air crackle with tension.

"It's time to finish you off!" Gohan's declaration carried none of his usual hesitation.

But before they could unleash their attacks, Garlic Jr. reached into his robes and produced a glass jar. Inside, Kami's diminutive form pressed against the transparent walls of his prison. "Go ahead," the demon sneered, holding the jar before him like a shield. "Take your best shot."

Cellera's teeth ground together as she let her gathered energy dissipate, Gohan doing the same beside her. Their enemy's mocking laughter grated against her ears as she studied the jar containing Earth's guardian, rapidly calculating their options. They needed to free Kami, but every strategy that came to mind carried too much risk - one wrong move could give Garlic Jr. the opening to destroy him. If that happened, they'd lose not only Earth's guardian, but Piccolo and the Dragon Balls as well.

The familiar weight of tactical advantage had shifted entirely to their opponent's side. For once, Cellera found herself without a clear path forward. She needed time to analyze the situation, to find some weakness in Garlic Jr.'s defense that wouldn't put Kami at risk.

The smallest of Garlic Jr.'s warriors stepped forward, his high-pitched laugh joining his master's. "Can we play with our new friends?" Salt asked, practically bouncing with malicious excitement.

"Patience," Garlic Jr. commanded. With a wave of his hand, the temple's roof exploded outward as an ornate throne materialized, settling among the debris. He lowered himself onto it with deliberate grace, a satisfied smirk playing across his features. "You may entertain yourselves with them until Goku arrives. But remember - Gohan is mine. Don't damage him too severely."

Cellera's lip curled in disgust at how casually he reduced them to mere playthings, but her contempt for his treatment of Gohan was cut short as Salt launched into action. His foot connected with Gohan's chest, the force sending him skidding toward the Lookout's edge.

"Gohan!" Her attempt to reach him was halted by Mustard's massive fist driving into her stomach. The impact rivaled Recoome's crushing strength, nearly bringing her to her knees. But instead of showing pain, she lifted her head with a predatory smile.

"Is that all?" she taunted, meeting his eyes with pure Saiyan defiance.

Mustard's answering chuckle rumbled deep in his chest as he reached for her, but Cellera was already moving. She twisted away from his grasp, her leg whipping around to connect with his temple. The force sent him crashing through one of the few remaining trees, splintering wood exploding in all directions.

A series of dull thuds drew her attention back to Gohan. Salt had him pinned, massive boots repeatedly slamming into her friend's body. Rage flared in her chest, but she forced it down. She'd sparred with Gohan enough to know his true strength - he could handle himself. Right now, she had her own opponent to deal with.

As if on cue, Mustard emerged from the wreckage, murder in his eyes. He charged forward with surprising speed for his size, and Cellera met his assault head-on. They took to the air, trading blows at a furious pace. Each punch carried enough force to shatter stone, each kick displacing the air around them with thunderous cracks.

For every strike Mustard landed, Cellera returned two of her own. Her smaller size gave her maneuverability his bulk couldn't match, letting her weave through his defenses. But any satisfaction at her advantage was tempered by the knowledge that these warriors were merely following their master's command to "play" with them. The real test would come when they stopped holding back.

A flash of movement caught her attention - Salt gathering energy for an attack while Gohan remained prone. That split second of distraction cost her as Mustard's boot connected with her ribs, sending her hurtling into Gohan. They crashed together in a tangle of limbs, and Cellera barely managed to grab Gohan's arm and yank them both aside as Salt's attack incinerated a decorative bush where they'd been lying.

The acrid smell of burning foliage filled the air as Cellera watched the plant crumble to ash. Her jaw tightened - while these warriors might not possess Frieza's raw power, their techniques were clearly lethal. One wrong move could prove fatal.

Mustard landed beside Salt, both warriors cackling at their targets' growing frustration. The sound grated against Cellera's ears, reminding her too much of Frieza's soldiers taking pleasure in others' suffering.

"I've had enough of these two," she growled, turning to Gohan. After a year of training together, she didn't need to explain her plan - the look they shared said everything. Their spars between his study sessions had perfected this particular combination.

"No more playing around!" Gohan's voice matched her determination.

They took their stances, power erupting around them as they released their restrained energy. The force of their combined auras tore tiles from the Lookout's surface, sending debris swirling around them. Salt and Mustard's laughter died as they felt the sudden surge in power, their own hands rising in unison to launch a combined attack.

A knowing look passed between Gohan and Cellera as he stepped in front of her, arms raised in a defensive stance. Their countless image training sessions had prepared them for exactly this kind of teamwork.

"Are you sure?" she asked, recalling the destructive force of Salt's earlier attack.

"I'll be fine," Gohan's voice carried absolute conviction. "Do it."

That was all Cellera needed. She brought her thumbs and index fingers together, forming the familiar square frame before expanding it. Ki gathered within the space.

Salt and Mustard unleashed their combined blast, the energy roaring toward them in a crimson wave. Gohan met it head-on, his ki shield flaring to life. The collision bathed the Lookout in hellish red light, smoke billowing around them. Through it all, Gohan's stance remained unshakeable, showing just how far he'd come since their first meeting.

Their opponents' triumphant laughter echoed across the courtyard. Cellera allowed herself a small chuckle - they had no idea what she and Gohan were truly capable of..

As the smoke began to clear, that laughter died in their throats. Their opponents' confident expressions crumbled into shock and fear at the sight of Gohan standing firm, only light scratches marking his forearms. Before they could react, he leapt behind Cellera with precise timing.

"Nova Frame!" The attack burst forth with devastating force, the recoil threatening to knock her off balance. But Gohan's steady presence behind her provided the anchor she needed, their coordination perfect.

The blast caught both warriors completely off-guard, too quick to dodge and too powerful to survive. When the light faded, nothing remained of Salt and Mustard.

Cellera and Gohan took to the air, hovering before Garlic Jr., Spice, and the possessed Piccolo. Their enemy's composed facade cracked further as he witnessed the destruction of his minions.

"You rotten little rugrats!" Garlic Jr.'s growl carried equal parts fury and disbelief. Clearly, he hadn't expected these "children" to dispatch his warriors so efficiently.

"Let me at them!" Vinegar snarled, muscles tensing for combat.

"Save your energy," Spice's smile carried dark anticipation as he released his grip on Piccolo. "Our new family member seems eager for a turn."

The moment he was free, Piccolo charged forward with a feral roar. Gohan's earlier battle fury melted away at the sight of his mentor's apparent madness. "What're you doing, Piccolo?" The soft question carried years of trust and confusion.

Piccolo's response was swift and brutal - an uppercut that sent Gohan crashing to the ground below. Cellera's teeth ground together as she watched her friend impact the marble tiles. Before Piccolo could pursue, she interposed herself between them.

"Don't do it, Piccolo," she warned, her voice pitched low enough that only he could hear. "You'll regret hurting him." She appealed to what she knew of his protective nature toward Gohan, catching the slight twitch of his antenna before his left hook caught her off-guard.

As she sailed through the air, Cellera immediately noticed that the force behind his strike was negligible compared to their recent training matches - she'd felt him hit harder during basic warm-ups. Righting herself mid-flight, she locked eyes with Piccolo as they both assumed fighting stances.

The pieces began falling into place: his suspiciously quick capture at the island, the exaggerated savagery that seemed more performance than possession, and now this pulled punch that barely qualified as a love tap by their usual standards. Her eyes narrowed slightly as understanding dawned. Piccolo wasn't infected at all - he was acting, playing a role while presumably pursuing some larger strategy.

The question was: what exactly was he planning?

Studying Piccolo's stance, Cellera made her decision. Though his exact plan remained unclear, she trusted him enough to follow his lead. She caught Gohan's anguished expression as he watched them, still trying to reason with his mentor. Before resuming combat, she gave Piccolo the barest of nods - a signal that she understood the deception and would play along. Perhaps between them, they could help Gohan see through the act as well.

They charged at each other again, exchanging blows that looked devastating but carried little real force behind them. The choreography ended with Piccolo unleashing a ki blast that sent Cellera skidding across the Lookout's floor, coming to rest near Gohan.

She remained motionless as Gohan rushed to her side, his voice tight with worry. "Cellera! Are you okay? Please get up!"

His concern was cut short as Piccolo's kick sent him crashing into one of the temple's columns. Garlic Jr.'s satisfied chuckle echoed across the courtyard as Gohan slumped onto the steps, his usual fighting spirit seeming to crumble at the sight of his mentor's apparent betrayal.

Through barely-focused eyes, Gohan watched helplessly as Piccolo stalked toward Cellera's prone form. The Namekian warrior seized her by the throat, lifting her off the ground as she made a show of struggling against his grip. Gohan tried to rise from the steps, only to stumble. "Piccolo, stop!"

His plea went unanswered as Piccolo spun Cellera around, bringing her shoulder close to his mouth. She let out a piercing shriek that made Piccolo's antenna twitch - a reminder of his sensitive hearing that she'd discovered during their sparring sessions. She felt a flicker of guilt for the pain she knew it caused him, but maintaining the illusion was crucial to whatever strategy he was pursuing.

Lying motionless on the ground, Cellera replayed Piccolo's whispered instructions in her mind. Their task was clear: feign submission to the Black Water Mist's influence and use that deception to get close enough to free Kami and Mr. Popo. She trusted Piccolo's judgment - he'd clearly been planning this since his "capture" at the island.

As she maintained her facade of unconsciousness, her mind worked through potential strategies. Garlic Jr.'s obsession with Gohan was obvious - every taunt, every command to his minions centered around ensuring he would be the one to defeat the boy personally. That kind of fixation could be exploited.

If they could maneuver the fight into the palace where their enemy lounged on his throne, the temptation to personally finish off the object of his hatred might prove too strong to resist.

The sounds of combat between Piccolo and Gohan circled around her position - the impact of blows, grunts of exertion, and the crash of someone being thrown through another piece of the Lookout's architecture. She felt bad about having to deceive Gohan like this, but if she could somehow help him see through their act... With his own sharp mind, one that could even rival her own, he'd understand what they were attempting. The three of them working in concert could completely blindside Garlic Jr. and his remaining followers.

Drawing in a slow breath, Cellera prepared herself to rise and begin the next phase of their deception. She held onto her absolute faith in Gohan's perceptiveness. He'd recognize the truth hidden beneath their performance - he had to.

Cellera rose from the ground, letting her face settle into the same mindless aggression she'd seen in the other infected victims. She spotted Gohan struggling to his feet, debris from the collapsed architecture sliding off his small form. Without hesitation, she launched herself at him, each precisely aimed strike designed to drive him closer to the palace wall.

"Please stop, Cellera!" Gohan pleaded, blocking another strike. "This isn't you!"

Garlic Jr.'s laughter rang across the Lookout. "Whether they breathe the Black Water Mist or are bitten by one already infected, they serve only me now! The almighty Garlic Jr.!"

Gohan felt that familiar anger building in his chest, the same power that always seemed to emerge when his emotions peaked. But even as rage simmered beneath the surface, he couldn't bring himself to do more than defend. He desperately wished his dad was here - he would know exactly what to do, would find some way to save everyone. But his father was gone, and now with both Cellera and Piccolo under Garlic Jr.'s control, everything depended on him.

Gohan knew he could be stronger - he'd felt that power burst forth before when his anger took over. But what good was that strength if using it meant hurting the people he cared about? Every time that hidden power had emerged, it had never been enough on its own. Against the Saiyans, his rage-fueled attack had only managed to hurt Nappa before his dad had to save them. On Namek, despite all his power increases, Frieza had still been far beyond him.

As he continued blocking Cellera's attacks, that familiar doubt crept in. Even if he did tap into that anger, would it be enough? Or would he just end up failing again, possibly hurting Cellera and Piccolo in the process?

Cellera's strike caught his left side - a familiar point of contact that sent him skidding toward the temple's side entrance. The force behind it was identical to their secret sparring sessions they would have when they weren't under his mother's watchful eye, when she would exploit that same opening to remind him about his guard. Her consistent critiques of his left side had become almost routine.

As Gohan pushed himself up, his eyes met Cellera's, and something clicked. Her eyes remained their natural onyx, as dark as her hair - not the eerie pink that marked the Black Water Mist's influence. His mind raced back to earlier, when she'd specifically drawn his attention to his mother's transformed eyes. Then there was Garlic Jr.'s boast about infection spreading through bites...

Piccolo's eyes did show that pink glow, but Gohan suddenly remembered his mentor's unique Namekian abilities. A warrior who could materialize clothing from nothing would hardly find changing eye color challenging. The pieces fell into place with startling clarity - neither Piccolo nor Cellera had truly fallen under Garlic Jr.'s control!

He caught the subtle flicker of Cellera's gaze toward the temple entrance beside him. The message was clear - whatever strategy she and Piccolo had devised required moving their battle inside. Now he just had to play his part without giving away his understanding.

---

Cellera watched with a mix of pride and guilt as Gohan endured their assault. While she and Piccolo had perhaps been unnecessarily rough, they couldn't risk any hesitation that might reveal their deception to Garlic Jr. Their performance had to be flawless.

Together, they had used Gohan like a living pinball, driving him steadily closer to their target with each exchange. When their final combined strike sent him crashing through the last wall to land before Garlic Jr.'s throne, she could see the toll their "fight" had taken. His small frame trembled with exhaustion as he struggled to maintain consciousness.

Garlic Jr. lounged on his throne, casually taking a bite from an apple as he regarded Gohan's prone form. "Look on the bright side," he taunted between bites. "At least you'll get to see the Sacred Water before I terminate you."

"You won't... get away with this," Gohan managed through gritted teeth. Though he pushed himself up on shaking arms, his stance was unsteady. Cellera felt her chest tighten, unsure if his weakness was still part of their shared act or if they'd genuinely pushed him too far. She silently pleaded for him to hold on just a little longer - they were so close to their goal.

"Why continue to resist?" Spice's voice carried false sympathy. "You're the only one left. Why not join us?"

"Lord Garlic," Vinegar interrupted, practically salivating at the prospect of violence, "allow me the pleasure of disposing of this roach. Unless you'd prefer to do the honors yourself?"

The word 'roach' made Cellera's muscles tense involuntarily. Memories of Frieza using the same insult flooded back - his casual cruelty as he'd talked about how he failed repeatedly to eliminate her. She forced her expression to remain blank, though her hands clenched briefly at her sides.

Garlic Jr. waved his hand dismissively at his henchman. "Do as you please." Cellera felt her stomach tighten - their performance hadn't been enough to draw out their enemy's obsession with defeating Gohan personally. As Vinegar and Spice moved toward Gohan, she and Piccolo quickly intercepted them, driving their shoulders into the larger warriors to knock them away from their target.

The palace's confined space made the ensuing battle more intimate and brutal. Piccolo sent Gohan flying with a roundhouse kick that the boy barely managed to block, the force still sending him crashing into one of the ornate pillars. Before he could fully regain his footing, Cellera was there, her strikes pushing him back toward the center of the room. Each hit was perfectly calculated - enough force to look convincing without causing serious harm, but the cumulative effect was clearly taking its toll.

Sweat dripped from Gohan's brow as he struggled to maintain his defense. His movements had grown sluggish and when he tried to counter one of Cellera's strikes, Piccolo caught his extended arm and threw him across the room. He tumbled across the polished floor, barely managing to roll back to his feet.

The combination of their earlier battle outside and this confined assault had clearly drained him. His chest heaved with labored breaths, his gi torn and dirty from multiple impacts. Still, that familiar determination burned in his eyes as he raised his guard once more.

Seeing the perfect opportunity, Cellera launched forward. Her fist drove into his stomach with carefully controlled force, but his exhausted state made the impact seem far more devastating than it was. The strike sent him sprawling directly before Garlic Jr.'s throne, where he lay struggling to push himself up on trembling arms.

Piccolo stalked forward, seizing Gohan by his gi collar and drawing back his fist for what appeared to be a finishing blow. But before he could strike, Garlic Jr.'s hand shot out to grab his arm.

"I think I'll finish him myself after all," the demon declared.

Triumph surged through Cellera as their plan finally succeeded. Piccolo released Gohan, turning to Garlic Jr. with a knowing smirk. "The pleasure is all yours, my lord." The unexpected deference caught their enemy off guard just long enough for Piccolo to seize Garlic Jr.'s hand and snatch the glass jars containing Kami and Mr. Popo, tossing them to Cellera in one fluid motion.

She quickly popped the tops off, releasing a cloud of smoke as Earth's guardian and his assistant emerged from their prisons. Without hesitation, she dropped to check on Gohan, who lay still on the floor - taking what she hoped was just a brief, well-deserved rest after enduring their performance.

A growl of fury drew her attention back to Garlic Jr. His fist began to glow with crimson energy before releasing a small blast that forced Piccolo to release his grip. The demon launched himself backward toward his throne, rage twisting his features. "You'll pay dearly for that deception!"

Piccolo's smirk widened as he cracked his neck, the fang marks vanishing. "Not going to happen, garlic breath."

Still riding the high of their successful deception, Cellera couldn't resist twisting the knife further. "To be fooled so easily...it seems that your stature isn't the only thing that's small." She savored each mocking word. "Though I hear you once fell into your own trap? And here I thought incompetence like that was impossible."

A deep flush spread across Garlic Jr.'s blue skin. "Shut up, you little brat! Do you have any idea who you're speaking to?!" His rage only intensified when Cellera dismissed him entirely, turning instead to address Piccolo.

"Excellent plan," she said, her earlier mockery replaced with genuine respect. Her gaze dropped to Gohan's battered form. "Though perhaps we were a bit rough with him."

"He's trained to withstand worse than that," Piccolo assured her, though something in his tone suggested he shared her concern. Even knowing Gohan's resilience, Cellera couldn't quite shake the guilt at seeing her friend so exhausted. She knelt beside him, gently shaking his shoulders.

Gohan's eyes fluttered open, fatigue evident in every movement. "Did it work?" he managed, voice barely above a whisper.

"It worked," Piccolo confirmed, rare pride coloring his words. "You did well holding out that long."

A tired laugh escaped Gohan, the sound carrying equal parts relief and exhaustion.

"Quick thinking," Piccolo turned to Cellera. "Catching on to the plan and bringing Gohan into it."

She smiled, meeting the Namekian's eyes. "I may not have known you long, but I know what you're capable of." His answering smirk showed he caught her meaning, a moment of understanding passing between them.

Cellera turned back to Gohan, a rare genuine smile softening her features. "Sorry about being so rough back there," she said. "Though I knew you could handle it - you faced worse on Namek." Her smile widened slightly. "I'll make it up to you by helping with your math studies later, though I still don't understand how you find it difficult."

Gohan chuckled at her familiar bewilderment over his occasional struggles with arithmetic. "Deal," he said, taking her outstretched hand and pulling himself up.

"Though, I admit I'm curious," she said as she helped steady him. "What was it I did that gave it away?"

"Well, that strike to my left side was familiar," Gohan replied. "But mainly it was your eyes."

Cellera blinked, tilting her head. "My eyes?"

He nodded. "They never changed color, not like my mom's when you pointed it out earlier."

The observation made Cellera recall those few moments when their gazes had locked, just before she'd noticed the shift in his understanding. Once again, her friend's perception impressed her - he'd caught details she hadn't even considered while formulating their deception.

"Thank you, Piccolo," Kami's voice carried across the chamber from where he stood beside Mr. Popo. "And you as well, children."

"Don't misunderstand," Piccolo growled back. "I didn't do it because I wanted to. With you captured, I can't fight at full power."

Cellera fought back a knowing smile at his gruff response. Given how quickly he'd formulated their rescue plan, she doubted his motivation was purely self-serving. Judging by Kami's dry "Yes, of course," the guardian of Earth shared her skepticism.

Garlic Jr. turned with a dramatic flourish of his cape. "Taking over the universe isn't easy," he sighed with theatrical weariness, "but days like this make it all worthwhile."

His maniacal laughter echoed through the chamber, but Cellera barely registered it. Her mind conjured unwanted images of Frieza, his sadistic smile and that deadly finger that could erase lives and planets with casual ease. She'd witnessed true universal domination - had lived under it for majority of her life.

Garlic Jr.'s voice cut through her memories: "You are about to witness the birth of a new world of darkness and evil! And I will be the ruler of this beautiful new world!"

Something inside Cellera snapped. She had escaped one dictator's control - watched her father die by Frieza's hand, endured years of servitude, finally found freedom on Earth. She would not let another tyrant rise. She would not let anyone else suffer that fate.

Raw emotion surged through her as she charged forward. For a brief moment, golden light flickered around her form before vanishing, leaving everyone stunned at the unexpected display. But before she could reach Garlic Jr., Vinegar and Spice intercepted her path.

Gohan was right behind her, driving both feet into Spice's abdomen and propelling them toward the floor. The opening let Cellera land a devastating punch that sent Vinegar crashing through one of the remaining columns, stone crumbling under the impact.

The brief flash of Super Saiyan power had surprised her as much as everyone else, but there was no time to dwell on it. "Help me deal with these two!" she called to Gohan. "We'll catch up with Piccolo after!"

She could see him favoring his right side, still worn from their earlier performance, but his eyes held that same determination she'd come to rely on. Working together, they could handle this - they always did.

Cellera wanted to help him directly, but Vinegar demanded her full attention, his attacks becoming more aggressive with each exchange. She ducked under another wild swing, using his momentum against him to send him crashing into the floor. The impact left a crater in the polished stone, but Vinegar emerged with a twisted grin.

"Clever brat," he growled, wiping blood from his lip. "But let's see how you handle this!" His muscles bulged grotesquely as he unleashed a barrage of ki blasts.

Meanwhile, Gohan found himself caught in Spice's hair, the silver strands wrapping around his throat. Despite his exhaustion, he managed to gather enough ki to create a barrier, forcing the strange appendages away. But the effort left him gasping.

"Gohan!" Cellera's concern nearly cost her as Vinegar's fist grazed her cheek. She spun away, calculating their options. They needed to end this quickly - Gohan was running on fumes after their earlier performance.

As if reading her thoughts, Gohan caught her eye. Without a word, they switched opponents, Cellera's kick forcing Spice to release his hair's grip while Gohan ducked under Vinegar's guard.

The sudden change threw their opponents off balance. Cellera capitalized on Spice's surprise, her combination of strikes driving him steadily backward. Behind her, she heard Vinegar's frustrated roar as Gohan slipped through his defenses again and again.

"Now!" Cellera called out, recognizing the perfect moment.

Gohan gathered what remained of his strength into one devastating punch, driving it deep into Spice's abdomen. The silver-haired warrior doubled over, leaving him perfectly positioned for Gohan's uppercut that sent him flying upward - directly onto one of the ornate spikes protruding from the palace wall. The impact was sickeningly final.

"Kid's got some fight left after all," Vinegar snarled, but his bravado couldn't hide the fear in his eyes as Cellera and Gohan advanced on him together.

Cellera felt a familiar smirk cross her face - one that reminded her too much of her father. "Want to test that theory?"

Before Vinegar could respond, she and Gohan moved in perfect sync. While his earlier exhaustion still showed in his movements, Gohan provided the perfect distraction, forcing Vinegar to divide his attention. The massive warrior couldn't track them both, his attacks growing wilder as panic set in.

"This is for calling Gohan a roach," Cellera muttered, gathering her ki. The blast erupted from her hands with devastating force, vaporizing Vinegar before he could even scream.

As the light faded, she turned to find Gohan swaying slightly on his feet. Without hesitation, she moved to support him, letting him lean against her shoulder despite their similar height.

"You okay?" she asked, genuine concern replacing her battle focus.

"Yeah," Gohan managed a tired smile. "Just need to catch my breath." He glanced at her with weary but warm eyes. "Thanks for having my back."

"Of course, always." She replied simply, the word carrying all they'd been through together on Namek. "Come on," she said, adjusting her grip to better support him. "We should catch up to Piccolo before Garlic Jr. tries anything else."

They found Piccolo facing off against Garlic Jr., who seemed intent on taunting Earth's former guardian. "Worried about Kami?" the demon sneered. "I would be too if I was linked to a decrepit old prune."

"Well, if that isn't the pot calling the kettle black," Cellera's voice cut through their exchange as she and Gohan approached, still supporting her friend's tired frame. She couldn't resist adding a jab at their diminutive enemy - after all, between his small stature and blue, wrinkled skin, he hardly had room to mock anyone's appearance.

"You little brat... I've had just about enough of you!" Garlic Jr. growled, his composure cracking further. "Allow me to show you the strength of the almighty Garlic Jr.!"

"'Almighty'?" Cellera let out a short laugh that would have made Vegeta proud. "I've served under beings who could destroy solar systems with a gesture." Her voice carried the weight of personal experience, memories of Frieza's casual devastation lending steel to her words. "Next to them, you're nothing but a child playing at power."

The taunt struck its mark perfectly. Garlic Jr.'s face contorted with rage, his fixation on Cellera leaving him completely vulnerable to Piccolo's attack. The Namekian warrior drove his shoulder into their opponent with devastating force, propelling him through multiple palace walls. Piccolo controlled his momentum with practiced precision, halting his charge only after the combination had done its work. Debris rained down on Garlic Jr.'s prone form, dust settling around him in the aftermath.

"It's over, Garlic Jr.," Piccolo declared.

But their opponent merely wiped blood from his mouth, his chuckle carrying an ominous edge that made Cellera's danger instincts scream warnings at Garlic Jr.'s unperturbed demeanor. His confidence despite the beating he'd just taken suggested something far more dangerous lurking beneath the surface.

Her suspicions proved correct as he pointed skyward, drawing their attention to a crimson orb hanging in the darkened sky like a malevolent eye.

"Behold the Makyo Star! The source of my power!" His voice carried newfound confidence, all traces of his earlier frustration gone. "So long as I have that star, there's nothing you can do to stop me from taking this planet for my own." He raised both hands, and immediately the air around them grew heavy with gathering power.

"He's changing." Recognition colored Piccolo's voice, and something in his tone – a hint of genuine concern from the usually stoic warrior – made Cellera's spine stiffen. "Cellera, Gohan! Get out of here!"

Before she could question the urgency in his command, the Lookout began to shake violently. Massive beams of crimson light erupted from its surface, shooting in all directions like deadly spears as the ancient structure began to collapse around them. The sacred palace, which had stood for centuries, crumbled under the onslaught of this new power.

When the chaos subsided, they pulled themselves from the debris. "Piccolo?" Gohan's voice carried a questioning note, but their mentor's only response was another urgent command to leave.

A thunderous crash drew their attention. Cellera turned to find Garlic Jr., but the small figure who'd provoked her mockery was gone. In his place stood a towering form that dwarfed even Piccolo's impressive height. She found herself regretting her earlier comments about his stature.

"I've had it with you lot!" Garlic Jr.'s voice had deepened with his transformation, rumbling through the devastated palace. "Now it's my turn to have some fun!" He lunged forward, massive hands reaching for both children.

Cellera shoved Gohan aside, but couldn't escape herself. Garlic Jr.'s grip closed around her small frame before slamming her into the ground with enough force to crack the marble tiles. A dark chuckle escaped him as debris rained down around her prone form. "Still think I'm just a child playing at power?"

Cellera shoved Gohan aside, but couldn't escape herself. Garlic Jr.'s grip closed around her small frame before slamming her into the ground with enough force to crack the marble tiles. A dark chuckle escaped him as debris rained down around her prone form. "Still think I'm just a child playing at power?"

"Cellera!" Gohan's worried cry echoed across The Lookout. She pushed herself up through the rubble, her mind already analyzing their situation. That single strike had carried more force than anything the Ginyu Force had ever managed, and she could tell their enemy was still holding back.

Piccolo seized what he thought was an opening while Garlic Jr. gloated, but their opponent's new speed proved overwhelming. He simply stepped aside from the attack - directly into Gohan's path. The boy's rage-fueled kick connected solidly with the demon's stomach, but Garlic Jr. only smirked. His hand closed around Gohan's ankle, using the boy's own momentum to send him spinning through the air.

Cellera had already launched herself forward, hoping to capitalize on Gohan's distraction, but Garlic Jr.'s timing proved perfect. He released Gohan at precisely the right moment, sending him crashing into her. The impact drove them both into one of the few remaining pillars, stone crumbling around their tangled forms.

As Cellera and Gohan pulled themselves from the debris, a familiar frustration gnawed at her. If only she could transform into a Super Saiyan - truly transform, not just these fleeting flashes of golden aura and hair that had teased her for the past months. Despite all her training, despite knowing she had the power somewhere inside her, it remained just out of reach. And now, facing Garlic Jr.'s overwhelming strength, that limitation might cost them everything.

"Are you okay?" Gohan asked, concern evident in his voice.

"Yeah," she managed, but her attention had already shifted to where Piccolo had Garlic Jr. pinned against a crumbling stone wall. The Namekian's fists were a blur, each impact sending cracks spider-webbing through the ancient rock. For a moment, it seemed they might have the advantage - until Garlic Jr.'s massive knee drove into Piccolo's stomach. Cellera felt the sudden drop in Piccolo's ki.

"This isn't good," she said, tension creeping into her voice. "Piccolo's power just plummeted."

Garlic Jr. drew back his fist, clearly intending to finish Piccolo off. Before Cellera could even process what was happening, Gohan had already moved. His small hands caught Garlic Jr.'s massive fist, a golden sphere of energy erupting around him as he screamed. The force sent their towering opponent stumbling backward, rage twisting his features as he glared at the boy.

The sight of Gohan standing protectively before Piccolo sent Cellera's mind back to their first battle on Earth - how Piccolo had thrown himself between Gohan and Nappa's attack without hesitation. Now their positions were reversed, the student protecting his mentor. But Gohan didn't wait for Garlic Jr. to recover, launching himself forward with a barrage of punches that drove repeatedly into the demon's stomach.

Cellera rushed to Piccolo's side, alarm spreading across her features as his form flickered between solid and transparent. "What's happening to you?"

Piccolo managed a weak laugh. "It's Kami... something must have happened." At her questioning look, he explained, "After you left, Kami and Mr. Popo went to deliver the Sacred Water to the Seven Air Vents of the world. It's the only way to counter the Black Water Mist's curse across the Earth."

A sudden shout cut through their conversation. "I've had it with you! It's over!"

Cellera and Piccolo turned to find Gohan charging at Garlic Jr., his battle cry echoing across the Lookout. She recognized that look immediately - the same fierce expression he'd worn facing down Frieza, Nappa, and Dodoria. This was the warrior that lay beneath his gentle exterior, the protector who emerged when those he cared about were threatened.

With devastating force, Gohan crashed into Garlic Jr.'s back, his small form literally tearing through the demon's massive body. Their towering opponent staggered backward before collapsing to the ground. Cellera stared wide-eyed at the display of raw power. Had Gohan actually managed to defeat him?

"Gohan, it's still not over!" Piccolo's warning barely finished before Gohan unleashed a massive Masenko, the energy blast engulfing Garlic Jr.'s fallen form and leaving a thick cloud of smoke in its wake.

As the smoke cleared, Cellera felt her earlier relief transform into pure horror. Garlic Jr. stood unscathed, as if Gohan's devastating attacks had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

"Thanks a lot!" Garlic Jr. chuckled. "I needed to lose a couple of pounds!" His massive form shook with laughter. "You pack a punch for such a little kid. But I think your plan of attack has a few holes in it!"

Cellera whirled toward Piccolo. "How is he still alive? Gohan tore straight through him!"

"He used the Dragon Balls to make himself immortal," Piccolo replied grimly.

Her usual composed demeanor shattered completely. "That would've been crucial information to know earlier!" she found herself shouting, making Piccolo wince at the volume. She pressed her thumb to her lip, mind racing through possible strategies. The only solution that presented itself was somehow tricking him into reopening the Dead Zone. But would he really be foolish enough to make the same mistake twice?

The sight of Garlic Jr. casually sealing the hole in his stomach made her stomach turn. "Now it's my turn to have some fun," he growled, lunging toward a shell-shocked Gohan.

Piccolo moved with desperate speed, his kick barely deflecting Garlic Jr.'s charge. But when he pressed his advantage, following through for another strike, his body phased harmlessly through their opponent, his form once again becoming ghost-like and translucent.

Piccolo sailed through the air, his agonized cry echoing across the Lookout as yellow lightning crackled around his fluctuating form. He hit the ground hard, struggling to rise as his body shifted between solid and ghost-like transparency. Behind him, Garlic Jr.'s laughter rang out, spurring Cellera and Gohan into action.

They charged forward in unison but Garlic Jr.'s massive hands seized both their heads. Pain exploded through Cellera's skull as he slammed them together before hurling them in opposite directions.

The world spun violently as Cellera hit the ground, her head throbbing from the impact with Gohan's. Through the haze of pain, she heard his distant cry of "Masenko!" followed by a deafening explosion that made her ears ring. She could only assume his attack had found its target.

Silence fell for a few precious moments before Garlic Jr.'s groan transformed into an enraged roar. "Nice try! But you'll have to do a lot better than that!" The sound of falling debris made Cellera turn her head - a movement she instantly regretted as her vision swam. Through blurred eyes, she watched Garlic Jr. leap from the rubble to land before Gohan. Her muscles screamed in protest as she tried to force herself up. She had to move!

"Say hello to a whole new world of pain!" Garlic Jr. snarled, his massive hand closing around Gohan's throat. The boy's small hands clawed desperately at the iron grip slowly crushing his windpipe.

Yellow electricity still crackling around his unstable form, Piccolo forced himself to stand. "Put him down, now!" Their mentor's punch drove into Garlic Jr.'s stomach, but the demon didn't even flinch. Instead, his free hand shot out to seize Piccolo's head.

"Two heads are always better than one!" Garlic Jr. cackled, squeezing both his victims with sadistic glee.

Cellera's teeth ground together as Gohan and Piccolo's agonized cries pierced through her disorientation. Her fist slammed into the Lookout's marble tiles, creating a spiderweb of cracks. That carefully maintained composure began to crack along with it, giving way to raw frustration.

That familiar feeling of helplessness crashed over her – the same paralysis she'd felt watching Guldo torment Gohan and Krillin on Namek, the horror of seeing Gohan's neck snapped by Recoome's kick, the devastating moment of her father's death at Frieza's hands. Her mind began to flicker through images of everyone she now fought to protect: Bulma's welcoming smile, Chichi's fierce devotion, Gohan's quiet strength, Krillin's unwavering friendship, Piccolo's stoic wisdom, Kakarot's determined spirit, even her father's distant presence.

She would not watch it happen again!

She would not let this demon take another world, another family. She didn't care if Garlic Jr. was immortal. He'd been defeated once by his own arrogance, and she would make him repeat that mistake. She had to. More than that - she needed to.

Something shifted inside her at that realization. Not a desire for power or glory, but a pure, burning need to protect. The same battle lust that had been growing within her surged forward, but this time she didn't fight it or try to control it. Instead, she channeled it, let it fuel that desperate need to save those she cared about.

In that moment of clarity, she understood. The trigger wasn't rage or desperation alone - it was need. Pure, unselfish need born from the desire to protect others. She committed every detail to memory, knowing this understanding would be crucial for maintaining the transformation in the future.

The sensation started at the base of her spine, a familiar warmth that shot upward along her back and concentrated between her shoulder blades before spreading through her entire body like lightning through water. Unlike her uncontrolled burst of rage on Namek, this time she felt every aspect of the transformation, every cell in her body igniting at once as golden light erupted around her. Her hair lifted and spiked, transforming from midnight black to brilliant gold. But unlike those fleeting flashes from before, this time the power stayed, coursing through her in steady waves.

Power crackling around her transformed form, she rose to her feet, eyes locked onto Garlic Jr. The battle instincts screaming through her Saiyan blood demanded victory and dominance, but there was one more demand that overrode that; protection. And this time, she would answer that call.

Garlic Jr.'s torture of Piccolo and Gohan halted as he turned toward the sudden surge of power. That momentary distraction was all Cellera needed - she materialized before him, her fist connecting with his face with devastating force. The impact sent him flying backward, his grip on Piccolo and Gohan breaking as he crashed through the temple walls.

Piccolo and Gohan stared at her transformed state in stunned silence. They hadn't witnessed this golden power since that desperate moment on Namek. While Garlic Jr. remained buried under the temple's debris, Cellera quickly outlined her plan.

"You mentioned he caught himself in his own trap - the Dead Zone?" she asked.

"Y-Yeah," Gohan managed, still catching his breath.

Her transformed eyes held steady resolve. "Then we make him open it again. But I need to know everything about it. I've had enough surprises for one day."

"It acts like a black hole," Piccolo explained, his form stabilizing slightly. "Draws everything into eternal darkness." He glanced at Gohan with something approaching pride. "Only person I've ever seen withstand its pull was Gohan."

Cellera turned to her friend, who met her gaze with firm determination. "I can do it again."

A small smile touched her lips. "I'll be counting on you."

"But how do we get him to open it?" Gohan asked. "Would he really make the same mistake twice?"

A smirk crossed Cellera's face - one that mirrored her father's with unsettling accuracy. "Leave that to me. I'll wound his pride enough that he won't be able to help himself."

Cellera's powered form blurred forward, her fist catching Garlic Jr. by surprise as he emerged from the rubble. The impact sent him skidding backward, and she felt a surge of satisfaction at the way his head snapped to the side. The new power coursing through her was intoxicating, and for a moment she understood why her father seemed to lose himself in battle sometimes. The urge to continue pummeling her opponent, to really test these new limits, was almost overwhelming.

But she forced that impulse down, reminding herself of her true purpose. She needed to enrage him, not indulge her own battle lust. Still, she couldn't quite suppress a predatory smile as she launched into her next attack.

"Are you always this slow, or am I just special?" she called out, weaving through his counter-strike. Her transformed state made his movements seem almost sluggish, and she could practically see the rage building in his eyes with each missed strike.

Despite her calculated plan, part of her thrilled at the exchange of blows. Her newfound power thrummed through her veins, demanding to be unleashed. But she channeled it with her mother's temperance, making each dodge a calculated move, every taunt designed to make his next attack more predictable.

Her fist slammed into his jaw with devastating force, and she couldn't help the grin that spread across her face. "What's wrong?" she taunted, deliberately echoing her father's tone. "Having trouble hitting a child?"

A part of her she'd never fully acknowledged before reveled in the combat, in the way her new power let her toy with her opponent. Each successful strike sent a thrill through her that was both foreign and familiar - the pure joy of battle that marked her Saiyan heritage.

"Stand still, you insufferable brat!" Garlic Jr.'s massive fist cratered the ground where she'd stood moments before.

"And miss watching you destroy your own palace?" She danced around another wild swing, landing a kick that sent him crashing through one of the few remaining columns. "I thought you wanted to be Earth's guardian. Though I suppose proper aim isn't a requirement."

The demon's transformation seemed to grow even more monstrous as his fury mounted. His attacks carried more power but lost all finesse - exactly as she'd planned. Though if she was honest with herself, she was enjoying this far more than she should.

Suddenly, golden clouds began to surround the Lookout. "Kami and Mr. Popo did it," Piccolo called out. "They've delivered the Sacred Water!"

Cellera glanced toward the horizon where the sun waited to break. Just before dawn. Perfect timing. She watched with satisfaction as understanding dawned on Garlic Jr.'s face, his features twisting with impotent rage as his plans crumbled around him.

"What's this?" she asked, unable to resist twisting the knife. "The almighty Garlic Jr., defeated by mortals?" Her smirk widened. "And mere children, no less."

"You meddling fools have ruined everything!" Garlic Jr. roared. "I'll make you pay for this!" His eyes fixed on Cellera with murderous rage. "Starting with you and your smart mouth!"

His form began to glow as he lifted off the ground, encasing himself in a protective bubble. The sky above them seemed to tear apart, revealing a swirling vortex of black and crimson. The force of its pull immediately began drawing debris upward, tiles and rubble flying past them toward the void.

Cellera quickly made her way toward Gohan and the others, but the Dead Zone's pull grew stronger with each step. As her feet left the ground, she threw her hand out desperately. Gohan caught her wrist, pulling her into his protective shield. She gave him an approving nod, which he returned as he positioned himself in front of her and Piccolo.

"The Dead Zone will swallow you up and keep you for all eternity! There's no escape!" Garlic Jr.'s voice boomed across the devastated Lookout.

Cellera rolled her eyes at his declaration, mentally noting the irony of his own previous escape. But his next taunt carried more weight.

"You can't keep that up forever!"

She scowled, knowing the demon was right. Her gaze shifted between her companions - Gohan's ki was dangerously low after their earlier battle, and Piccolo's form still flickered unstably. Even her newfound Super Saiyan power wouldn't mean much if they couldn't find a way to counter the Dead Zone's pull.

"Guys! I'm slipping!" Gohan's voice strained with effort. Cellera's mind raced. They needed to end this quickly or Earth would share their fate.

"Hold on, Gohan! Don't give in!"

"The Makyo Star..." Piccolo's weak voice drew her attention. "Look! Blow up the Makyo Star! It's the source of his power!"

That was all Cellera needed - her eyes darted to the crimson sphere hanging in the sky behind Garlic Jr. She gave a sharp nod. "I'll do it!"

"No!" Gohan's protest was immediate. "If you leave the shield, you'll get pulled into the Dead Zone!"

"It's the only way!" she argued back. Her newfound Super Saiyan power surged through her veins, and with it came a deeper understanding. She wasn't just the daughter of Rhuba, she was also the daughter of Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyans. That royal blood demanded nothing less than absolute victory. The Galick Gun might be her father's technique, but right now, it was exactly what they needed.

Piccolo's voice backed her. "There's a whole world of people down there to consider." She could see the conflict playing across Gohan's features as he weighed their options.

"I'll suck the whole sanctuary up if I have to!" Garlic Jr.'s roar punctuated his point as entire chunks of the Lookout began disappearing into the void. "Oh? What's the matter?" he taunted Gohan. "It's a little different this time, isn't it, you brat?!" His attention shifted to Cellera. "And what about you, little girl? Nothing witty to say now?!"

"I'm not sure how much longer I can hold this," Gohan gritted out, "but I'll die before I give in!"

"Hey, don't talk like that! Go for the win!" Piccolo scolded before wincing in pain. "Destroy the Makyo Star! Hurry!"

As Cellera moved to step out from the shield's protection, Gohan's power suddenly surged. The barrier expanded, forcing her to stop. "Gohan, you can't keep up that output forever! We have to do something or everyone's gone, including Chichi!"

The mention of his mother made Gohan's expression shift, but before he could respond, a spherical glow interrupted their debate. Kami and Mr. Popo materialized beside them, and Cellera heard Piccolo's voice behind her - strong and steady once more.

"Perfect timing." She turned to find him back on his feet, cracking his knuckles with renewed vigor.

"So be it! You'll all die!" Garlic Jr.'s roar preceded an increased pull from the Dead Zone. The force caught Kami and Mr. Popo off guard, breaking their grip as they began to drift toward the void.

"Piccolo!" Gohan cried out as his mentor leaped from the shield's protection. Beside him, Cellera shifted into a familiar stance - one she'd watched her father take countless times. Though she'd never attempted the Galick Gun herself, the movements came swiftly to her, as she thought back to the countless times she's watched her father use the technique himself.

Piccolo managed to knock Kami and Mr. Popo back toward the ground, where they frantically grabbed onto a piece of debris. Using the vacuum's pull to his advantage, Piccolo let himself be drawn toward Garlic Jr. - but their enemy was ready. An energy blast erupted from Garlic Jr.'s stomach, giving Piccolo no room to dodge in the Dead Zone's current. All he could do was cross his arms and brace for impact.

"Do it! Attack!" Piccolo commanded through gritted teeth.

Cellera stepped toward the edge of Gohan's barrier, positioning herself for the Galick Gun, but stopped at the soft sound of her name. When she turned, the look in Gohan's eyes made her chest tighten. His eyes held a pleading gaze – the same look he'd given her countless times during their studies when he wanted her to stay just a little longer.

She gave him a small, confident smile - one reserved only for him. "I promise... we'll come back."

Gohan studied her face, remembering that same determined expression from Namek when she'd promised to return from confronting Dodoria. She'd kept her word then, just as she had every time since. Without another word, he watched her step out of his shield's protection, trusting in the promise of his friend.

"I've got you now!" Garlic Jr.'s voice boomed as the Dead Zone's force pulled at her transformed body. She drew her hands back to her side, gathering her ki in a way she'd seen her father do countless times. Purple energy began to swirl between her palms, growing more intense with each passing second.

Garlic Jr.'s laughter at her apparent vulnerability died in his throat as he caught sight of her smirk. His eyes widened as he realized her true target.

"GALICK GUN!" The purple beam erupted from her hands, its trajectory carrying it past Garlic Jr. completely.

"What?! No! It can't be!" His cry of despair echoed across the Lookout as her attack struck the Makyo Star. The explosion rocked the very fabric of space, brilliant light temporarily drowning out even the Dead Zone's darkness.

Garlic Jr.'s scream of defeat accompanied his body's transformation, his massive form shrinking back to its original size as the Dead Zone's pull claimed its creator once again. The eternal void swallowed him whole, his final cry fading into nothingness.

Within moments, the chaos subsided. The Lookout's ancient structure settled back into its rightful position, and above them, the corrupted sky cleared to reveal its natural blue brilliance.

Gohan stood amid the devastation, his eyes scanning the destroyed Lookout desperately. "Piccolo! Cellera!" His voice cracked as he called out their names. "Where are you guys!"

The silence that followed made his throat tighten. First his dad was gone, somewhere in space, and now... He stared at the rubble where he'd last seen his friends, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You promised..."

His small hands clenched at his sides as tears threatened to fall. She was the only one who really understood him - not just as a warrior, but as someone who recognized his academic side. The thought of losing his best friend, the one person his age who made him feel less alone...

Movement in the debris caught his attention as Kami emerged, and hope surged in his chest. "Kami! And Popo!" He ran toward them, relief evident in his voice. "You guys made it!"

"Yes, by a hair," Kami replied, dusting himself off as Mr. Popo lamented the loss of his gardens to the Dead Zone.

Gohan's mind raced - if Kami was alive, that meant Piccolo had survived too. And if Piccolo made it, then Cellera... she had to be okay. She'd promised, and she'd never broken a promise to him before.

"Hey!" Krillin's voice called out as he landed on the Lookout. His eyes widened as he took in the destruction around them. "Is everyone okay? Where's Cellera and Piccolo?" He glanced around, brow furrowing with concern. "I could've sworn I sensed their ki up here."

"About time you showed up," a familiar voice called out. "Though better late than never, I suppose."

Gohan spun around to find Cellera sitting tiredly against a piece of rubble, her hair back to its natural black, with Piccolo perched above her, arms crossed and smirking.

Before anyone could react, Gohan bounded across the debris, throwing his arms around Cellera. She stiffened at the contact, not having been hugged since before her mother's death nearly four years ago. Her hand drifted unconsciously to the pendant beneath her compression shirt as memories of her mother threatened to surface.

"You all made it..." Gohan's whisper brought her back to the present. As he pulled away, she caught his stunned expression at her unusual reaction. She offered one of her rare smiles in return. "Of course," she smirked. "I did promise after all."

Gohan's laugh was interrupted by a stray tear rolling down his cheek. Cellera found herself caught off guard by the mix of emotions his concern stirred in her - a strange combination of sadness and warmth at being cared for so deeply.

"Hey! Knock off the mushy stuff, you two," Piccolo called down from his perch, prompting both children to laugh.

Krillin approached, scratching his head. "So what exactly happened? Things were looking pretty intense from Korin's tower." As they recounted the battle, he folded his arms with a sigh. "Man, I wish I could've helped, but Maron just wouldn't let me leave. Every time I tried, she'd cling tighter."

"Don't worry about it," Piccolo said, his gaze falling on the two young warriors below him. "We handled ourselves fine. Thanks to you two, Garlic shriveled up like a raisin. The Earth is safe again, and everyone affected by the Black Water Mist should be back to normal."

"Let's hope Garlic Jr. enjoys his permanent residence in the Dead Zone this time," Cellera quipped, drawing chuckles from the group.

Piccolo's comment about their impressive teamwork led to Krillin discovering their secret image training sessions - the only form of practice Chichi would tolerate without seeing marks on her "precious little scholar." The nickname made Gohan's cheeks flush pink, and Cellera caught the look in his eyes that promised future retaliation.

As they prepared to leave the Lookout, saying their goodbyes to Kami and Mr. Popo, Gohan's curiosity about her Super Saiyan transformation bubbled over. She explained that while mastery was still distant, she'd finally understood how to transform at will.

"Be prepared next time I come looking for you to train," she called to Piccolo as he prepared to depart.

His answering smirk carried a hint of pride. "Looking forward to it."

Cellera felt a deep sense of contentment wash over her as they turned toward Kame House. Earth would return to its peaceful state – the same peace that had somehow become precious to her over these past months. Looking at the group around her, she realized she hadn't just helped save a planet; she'd helped protect her home and the people she'd started to hold dear.

---

Their return to Kame House confirmed the Sacred Water's success - everyone had been freed from the Black Water Mist's influence. When Master Roshi asked what had happened, unable to recall anything, Gohan eagerly launched into the story of their battle against Garlic Jr.

"Well, that explains what happened to my house," Roshi sighed, surveying the holes in his roof and walls. He began ushering Oolong and Puar inside to gather repair supplies, muttering about how his house always seemed to suffer during these crises.

Chichi immediately rushed forward, wrapping Gohan in her arms and checking him for injuries despite his protests that he was fine. Cellera watched the familiar scene with quiet relief - Chichi's overprotective nature was a welcome sight after facing her possessed form.

However, that relief was short-lived. "Don't think I've forgotten what you did, young man," Chichi's stern voice made both children cringe. "From now on, I'm keeping my eye on you more than ever! And Cellera can only come over to study - no image training until I say otherwise!"

Gohan started to protest, trying to defend his friend by explaining it wasn't her idea, but his mother's stern look silenced him immediately. Both children responded with a synchronized "Yes, ma'am."

As they accepted their punishment, Cellera silently calculated how soon she could start training with Piccolo - though she knew he would be more pleased than bothered by the increased training time.

Her planning was interrupted as she found herself wrapped in Bulma's arms – her second embrace since her mother's death, and both within the same day. She stiffened just as she had with Gohan's hug, years of keeping physical distance making the gesture feel almost alien. Her father had never been one for displays of affection; even a hand on her shoulder had been rare, usually reserved for particularly successful training sessions.

"Let me look at you," Bulma pulled back, her hands moving to inspect Cellera for injuries with the same meticulous care she used in her lab. To anyone else, it might have seemed absurd – treating the daughter of Prince Vegeta, a warrior who'd just helped defeat an immortal enemy, like a child who'd scraped her knee. But Bulma had never been intimidated by Saiyan pride.

"Your hair's a mess," Bulma tutted, fingers working through the tangled strands now dulled with dust and debris. The gesture sent an unexpected pang through Cellera's chest – a faint memory of her mother doing the same after training sessions, before everything changed. "We need to get you cleaned up and properly patched up."

The concern in Bulma's voice carried none of the fear or awe that had colored everyone's interactions with her when she first arrived on Earth. Over these eight months, Bulma had gradually become something Cellera hadn't realized she'd missed – a maternal presence who sat with her in the lab answering endless questions about Earth technology, who never pushed too hard but remained steadily present, who somehow knew how to comfort her after nightmares of Frieza without making her feel weak.

It was a strange dichotomy – mere hours ago she'd been channeling her father's battle pride, unleashing devastating power against their enemies. Now she stood awkwardly accepting Bulma's attention, still learning how to navigate this kind of care. Perhaps this too was part of finding her own path – discovering that she could be both warrior and child, that accepting nurture didn't diminish her strength.

---

The familiar comfort of her room at Capsule Corp felt surreal after the chaos at the Lookout. Cellera lay in bed, clean and bandaged, though her Saiyan biology meant the minor injuries would be gone by morning. The soft sheets she'd now grow accustomed to were a far cry from the sterile bunks of Frieza's ship or the rough bedrolls used during planetary purges.

She turned to face the window, watching stars glitter in Earth's night sky. Ten months. She'd been on this planet for ten months – longer than any mission she'd ever undertaken with her father. What had started as temporary refuge had somehow become home.

Her hand drifted to her mother's pendant beneath her nightshirt. So much had changed since those first days after Namek. She'd learned to read and write in Earth's languages thanks to Gohan and Chichi, discovered a passion for mathematics that rivaled her love of combat, and found friendship in the most unlikely places.

A gentle knock interrupted her thoughts. "Checking in before I head to bed." Bulma's voice carried through the door. "You need anything?"

"I'm fine," Cellera replied, the words carrying none of the defensive edge they once had.

"Alright. Sleep well, kiddo."

As Bulma's footsteps faded down the hall, Cellera closed her eyes. Tomorrow she'd begin training with Piccolo, working to master her newfound power. But for now, she allowed herself to simply exist in this moment of peace – something the warrior she'd been ten months ago would never have understood or thought she'd truly have.

Notes:

TLDR: Gohan and Cellera friendship development showing how close they've gotten since Cellera has been staying on Earth. Piccolo, Gohan and Cellera's dynamic. Cellera as learned to trigger Super Saiyan at will and how much Earth has started to mean to her.