The afternoon sun cast long shadows across hilled terrain as Cellera, Trunks, and Krillin raced toward Gingertown. Their urgent flight was suddenly interrupted by a surge of power that made all three warriors halt mid-air, the sheer magnitude of the energy forcing them to steady themselves against the invisible waves washing over them.
"What... what is this ki?" Trunks' voice carried equal parts awe and uncertainty. "I've never felt anything like it."
Cellera closed her eyes, focusing on the familiar undertones within this new, overwhelming presence. "It's Piccolo," she said, recognition dawning. "But different somehow - stronger."
"This is awesome!" Krillin's excitement burst forth as he pumped his fist in the air. "They really did it - the merge with Kami actually happened!"
"I never dreamed Piccolo could reach this level of power," Trunks breathed out, still processing the immense ki they were sensing.
"He's surpassed even father's strength," Cellera noted, unable to keep a hint of respect from her voice. Though she hadn't spent much time around Piccolo during the three years of preparation, the few encounters she'd had were enough to show her his fierce dedication to growing stronger.
Krillin's grin widened as he declared, "With a Super Namekian on our side, we might actually have a shot at taking down those androids!" His optimism faltered slightly as he added, "And whatever's lurking in Gingertown."
Before anyone could respond, a massive shockwave rocked the air around them. They instinctively raised their arms to shield against the pressure as brilliant light erupted in the distance, painting the clouds in shades of violet and gold.
"Did you feel that?" Krillin asked unnecessarily, his earlier enthusiasm giving way to concern.
"The battle's already started," Cellera said, her muscles tensing. "We need to move. Now."
They surged forward with renewed urgency, the wind whipping past as they pushed their speed to its limit. As they approached Gingertown's outskirts, the source of the commotion came into view - and Cellera felt her blood run cold.
Piccolo stood squared off against what could only be described as a nightmare given form. The creature towered over even the Namekian's impressive height, its green chitinous body marked with black speckles that seemed to absorb light. But it was the tail that drew Cellera's attention - thick and powerful, ending in a wickedly sharp stinger that brought back unwanted memories of their discovery in the forest. The resemblance to that disgusting shell was undeniable.
"It really is Piccolo!" Krillin exclaimed, before his voice dropped with uncertainty. "But who's that other guy?"
"It must be whatever came out of that shell we found," Trunks replied, studying the creature with growing horror. After a moment of stunned observation, he added with grim certainty, "It really is a monster."
The creature's attention shifted to their arrival, and Cellera noticed how its gaze fixed particularly on Trunks. Its eyes narrowed with an unsettling intelligence, and despite its orange beak-like mouth, she could have sworn it was smirking at her brother. Something about that calculating look sent chills down her spine - this wasn't just some mindless beast.
She forced herself to maintain composure despite her instinctive revulsion toward its arthropodal form. The mysterious time machine, the impossible ki signatures they'd sensed, and now this creature that seemed to recognize Trunks on sight - the pieces suggested a larger puzzle, one she suspected they were only beginning to glimpse.
They descended beside Piccolo, touching down on the now barren land of what had once been Gingertown. The area that was a bustling city filled with citizens is now nothing more than a wasteland of dirt and rubble from what had been buildings.
"Was it this thing?" Krillin asked, his voice tight with horror. "Did it kill everyone in Gingertown?"
Piccolo's expression darkened as he gave a sharp nod. "Watch out for that tail," he warned, eyes never leaving the creature. "That's how he wiped them all out."
Cellera's gaze shifted to the deadly appendage as it swayed back and forth, the motion unsettlingly familiar. She'd seen that same predatory movement countless times during their days under Frieza's rule. The parallel made her stomach turn.
"Piccolo," she called out, fighting to keep her voice steady despite her growing unease. "Why does this creature have my father's ki signature? And Kakarot's... and the others?" The impossible mixture of energies she'd sensed earlier now seemed to pulse from the monster before them, like some twisted parody of their combined power.
"Later," Piccolo replied tersely. "Right now, our priority is taking him down."
A smirk crossed Cellera's face, her natural distaste toward the creature's exoskeletal horror feeding into her Saiyan desire for battle. "That should be simple enough," she said, falling into a fighting stance. "I've never cared much for bugs."
The creature's laugh caught them all off guard - deep and rasping, it held none of the mechanical quality they'd come to expect from Dr. Gero's creations. "Well, that's not very nice, Cellera," it said, fixing her with an unnervingly knowing gaze.
Cellera felt her confidence waver. How did this thing know her name? She'd never encountered the creature before, yet it spoke to her with the familiarity of an old acquaintance.
The creature turned its attention back to Piccolo, its beak-like mouth somehow conveying amusement. "Taking me out, huh? Do you really think it'll be so simple?"
"It spoke!" Krillin blurted out, taking an involuntary step backward. The human warrior had clearly been expecting something more bestial from the chitinous monstrosity.
Piccolo's stance remained rigid as he addressed the creature. "Under the circumstances, I don't see much chance of you beating us."
"You may be right," the monster conceded, though its tone held no trace of concern. "Which is why I have little choice but to withdraw for now."
"You're not going anywhere," Piccolo growled. His lips curled into a knowing smirk as he added, "And that pathetic Kamehameha of yours isn't going to help you escape."
"It can use Goku's Kamehameha as well?" Krillin's voice cracked with disbelief as he turned to Piccolo for confirmation.
The creature's rough laugh echoed across the empty street. "That's right, Krillin. And not just the Kamehameha." Its eyes glinted with dark satisfaction. "If I needed to, I could probably create a Spirit Bomb as well."
The words hit Cellera like a physical blow. This abomination could somehow access Kakarot's most powerful techniques? Her mind raced through the implications - not only did it possess their combined ki signatures, but it had intimate knowledge of their battle abilities. And there was something else, something that made her blood run cold: it knew their names. It had addressed both her and Krillin with the casual familiarity of an old friend.
"How... how in the world do you know my name?" Krillin voiced her unspoken question, his earlier awe giving way to growing unease. "Man, Goku's going to be stunned when he hears about this!"
The effect of Kakarot's name on the creature was immediate and startling. Its confident posture faltered for a split second as it processed this information. "What was that?" Its voice carried a note of genuine surprise. "Son Goku is alive, you say?"
"Of course he is!" Krillin shot back, though uncertainty had crept into his voice.
The creature's expression shifted into something more contemplative, its earlier predatory focus giving way to careful consideration. "It seems this history is quite a bit different from the one that I know."
Those words confirmed everything Cellera had suspected since they'd discovered that abandoned time machine in the forest. The moss-covered vessel, the mysterious egg, and now this creature that possessed impossible knowledge of their techniques - it all connected. This monster had arrived in their timeline before Trunks.
But two crucial questions remained unanswered: how had this thing acquired a time machine that so perfectly matched her brother's? And more importantly, what was its true purpose in coming to their time? Something told her they wouldn't like the answers to either question.
"I will do whatever it takes to acquire numbers 17 & 18!" The creature's sudden shout shattered their tense standoff. It shot upward, positioning itself directly in front of the sun. Before anyone could react, a blinding light erupted from its form. "SOLAR FLARE!"
Searing white light flooded their vision. Cellera threw her arm up too late, curses spilling from her lips as spots danced behind her eyelids. Around her, she could hear similar exclamations of pain and frustration from the others.
As their vision slowly returned, the reality of the situation became clear - the creature had vanished completely.
"He got away!" Trunks' growl of frustration cut through the air.
"Damn it all!" Piccolo's voice thundered with rage. "I thought the Solar Flare was supposed to be one of Tien's techniques!"
"Well, actually..." Krillin raised his hands in a placating gesture, "the Solar Flare isn't that difficult to pull off. I mean, Goku and I can both use it too."
His attempt at explanation did nothing to calm Piccolo's fury. The Namekian warrior shot into the sky, his cape snapping behind him as he searched frantically for any sign of their quarry. "The damned coward's masking his presence," he snarled. "I didn't think he could do that too!"
Cellera's fists clenched at her sides. She understood Piccolo's outrage all too well - this monster was proving more dangerous with each passing moment. Not only could it utilize Kakarot's techniques, but Tien's as well. Just how many of their abilities had it managed to acquire?
Piccolo landed heavily beside them, the ground cracking beneath his feet. "I was careless!" he berated himself. "I should have ended this sooner!"
A familiar surge of ki drew Cellera's attention to the east. Her father was approaching rapidly. She turned toward his energy signature, but Piccolo's next words snapped her focus back to their immediate crisis.
"I refuse to let him reach his perfect form!"
The word "perfect" had barely registered in Cellera's mind when a familiar presence descended from above. Her father hovered momentarily, golden aura fading as he powered down from Super Saiyan. He landed beside them with characteristic royal bearing, but Cellera didn't miss how his eyes narrowed as he assessed Piccolo's new power level.
"What in the world just happened here?" Vegeta demanded, his casual tone belied by the tension in his stance.
"I'll explain everything once Tien arrives," Piccolo replied evenly. "I can sense his ki approaching."
Vegeta's lip curled slightly at being made to wait. "Then let me ask you this much." His gaze fixed on Piccolo with predatory intensity. "Are you truly Piccolo? How is it possible that you've managed to increase your power so drastically in such a short time?"
"Piccolo and Kami have fused," Trunks supplied, apparently missing the dangerous edge in their father's voice.
"He merged?" Vegeta's composed facade cracked for an instant. "It was that simple?"
Cellera recognized the warning signs immediately - the clenched fists, the grinding teeth, the slight tremor of barely contained rage. Her father's pride had taken yet another blow. First the androids had humiliated him, and now Piccolo had surpassed him through what he clearly viewed as a shortcut to power.
The situation carried uncomfortable echoes of their time on Namek, when Piccolo's fusion with Nail had suddenly elevated him to a level that could challenge Frieza's second form. History seemed to be repeating itself - Piccolo once again gaining unprecedented power through fusion to face an overwhelming threat. The parallel wasn't lost on Cellera, and she suspected it only made the pill more bitter for her father to swallow.
"Look! It's Tien!" Krillin's shout cut through the mounting tension. Vegeta's interrogation halted as the three-eyed warrior landed beside them, offering a brief greeting before echoing the question on everyone's mind.
"What's going on?"
Piccolo turned to address them all, his expression grave. "The monster we encountered was a biomechanical android called Cell. He was created by a computer in Doctor Gero's laboratory, continuing its work independently after his death." He paused, letting the first revelation sink in before delivering the second. "And he came here from twenty-four years in the future using Trunks' time machine."
The news landed like a physical blow. Cellera felt her jaw clench - it seemed even death couldn't stop Doctor Gero from tormenting them with his creations. Her previous disgust toward Cell's grotesque anatomy was now compounded by the knowledge that he was yet another of Gero's abominations.
"There's more," Piccolo continued. "Cell was created using cells collected from the greatest fighters - Tien, Goku, Vegeta, myself... even Frieza and King Cold."
Cellera's eyes widened slightly. So that explained the impossible mixture of ki signatures they'd sensed - Cell wasn't mimicking their energy, he possessed it at a cellular level. His name suddenly made perfect sense.
"C-Created from our cells?" The slight waver in her father's voice betrayed his shock.
"But how could he manage something like that?" Trunks asked.
"I remember Doctor Gero mentioning a spy-robot insect," Cellera said, pieces clicking into place. "He used it to survey Kakarot's battles and the others. That must be how he collected the cells."
"Exactly," Piccolo confirmed with a sharp nod.
"What's his goal?" Tien's question carried an edge of dread, as if he already suspected the answer wouldn't be pleasant.
Piccolo's expression darkened further. "Cell gains power by absorbing others - that's what happened to Gingertown's population. But his ultimate objective is to absorb Androids 17 and 18. If he succeeds, he'll achieve his perfect form and become the strongest being ever conceived."
Silence descended as the weight of this new revelation settled over the group. They'd barely survived their encounter with the androids, and now they faced a creature specifically designed to absorb and surpass them. Doctor Gero's final gift to them was proving more nightmarish than any of them could have imagined.
"We have two options," Piccolo broke the heavy silence. "Either we find and kill Cell, or we track down 17 and 18 and eliminate them first." His eyes narrowed as he added, "I'm inclined to focus on Cell before his power grows beyond what we can handle."
"Agreed," Cellera said. "Cell would be the easier target to eliminate in his current state." Though the thought of actively hunting that insect-like abomination made her skin crawl.
"But will we even be able to find him?" Trunks asked. "Now that he knows how powerful Piccolo is, won't he just mask his ki and continue his attacks?"
Cellera pressed her thumb to her lip, considering her brother's words. Cell had already demonstrated his ability to conceal his presence during his escape. Without any way to track him, he could strike anywhere, at any time.
"If we can't stop Cell from merging with 17 and 18..." Tien's voice trailed off grimly. "We'll be in a world of trouble."
"More than that," Piccolo added. "With Frieza and King Cold's cells, he's a threat to the entire universe."
"Not to mention my blood as well." Vegeta's voice cut through their strategic discussion like a blade. His lip curled in disgust as he surveyed the group. "Everything you're proposing reeks of weak-willed cowardice."
His gaze fell on Cellera, disappointment and anger flashing in his eyes. The look clearly said she should know better than to support such cautious tactics.
"If Cell wants to merge with the androids," Vegeta continued, his trademark sneer deepening, "I say let him! It will save me the trouble of hunting them down one by one."
Rage built in Cellera's chest as her father's words hung in the air. This was Namek all over again - another overwhelming threat to their survival, and once more her father seemed determined to let his pride endanger them all.
"I couldn't care less what the enemy does," Vegeta declared with characteristic arrogance. "I'll kill every last one of them either way."
Something inside Cellera snapped. She would not stand by and watch history repeat itself. "Absolutely NOT!" The force of her own shout even surprised her as she strode toward her father. "Have you forgotten your battle with Android 18? Cell would be merging with opponents you couldn't defeat - he would surpass even their limitations!"
Vegeta's eyes blazed with fury as he turned on his daughter. "How dare you talk down to me?" he snarled. "Watch your mouth, girl."
But Cellera refused to back down this time. "You're making the exact same self-sabotaging mistakes as you did on Namek!" Her voice rose with years of pent-up frustration. "Once again, you're willing to risk all our lives just to prove your power!"
The others watched in stunned silence as father and daughter faced off. Even Krillin, who had witnessed their confrontations before, seemed taken aback. The last time he'd seen Cellera stand up to her father, she had been five years old, her voice carrying the hurt of a child who couldn't understand her father's actions. Now, at ten, her voice held nothing but raw anger.
Trunks stared at his sister in disbelief. Since his arrival, he had never seen her direct such fury at their father. She had always seemed to accept Vegeta's difficult nature with patience and understanding, but something about this situation had finally pushed her past her limit.
"Spare me your hypocritical lectures about self-sabotage," Vegeta's voice cut through her anger like ice. "Or have you forgotten your own actions with Doctor Gero?"
The words struck home with devastating accuracy. Cellera felt her rage freeze in her chest as the truth of his accusation sank in. Her fists clenched at her sides as she struggled to form a response, but no words came. Her father was right - she had done exactly what she was accusing him of. She had let her growing Saiyan battle instincts override her judgment, drawing out the fight instead of ending it quickly. That delay had given Gero the opening he needed to flee and activate the androids.
The weight of that failure pressed down on her shoulders. How could she criticize her father's choices when her own actions had helped create this nightmare?
Vegeta turned away from his daughter, his posture rigid with determination. "I will surpass them all," he declared, his voice carrying absolute conviction. "I swear it on everything. I will go beyond a Super Saiyan."
"Go beyond even a Super Saiyan?" Trunks whispered in disbelief, exchanging a stunned look with Cellera. The concept seemed impossible - the legendary transformation itself had been thought a myth until recently.
"Kakarot will try to do the same, no doubt," Vegeta added, his lip curling slightly at the name. He rose into the air, pausing only to throw one final barb over his shoulder. "You fools can do whatever it is you're going to do on your own." His departure kicked up a cloud of dust and debris, as if even the earth itself couldn't contain his fury.
As the dust settled around them, Piccolo's voice carried equal parts awe and skepticism. "Beyond a Super Saiyan? Is such a thing even possible?"
Cellera barely registered the question. Her father's words about her hypocrisy still stung, but they couldn't afford to dwell on past mistakes - not with Cell's threat looming over them. She turned to Trunks, sparing one last glance in the direction their father had vanished.
"We need to find Doctor Gero's underground laboratory," she said, forcing herself to focus on their immediate priorities. "We have to destroy this timeline's Cell before he can develop further." She paused, remembering their earlier discovery about the androids. "And perhaps we'll find something to help Bulma create a shutdown switch."
Piccolo gave a sharp nod of approval. "While you search for the lab, Tien and I will continue scouting this area. Cell might have left some trace we can follow."
"If you can't find anything, you should head to Kame House," Krillin suggested. "We could monitor the news broadcasts - they might give us a clue about Cell's next target."
The logic was sound. Cell might be able to mask his ki, but he couldn't hide the devastation he left in his wake. They would have to track him through more conventional means.
The trio flew in formation across the rolling landscape, headed back toward the mountain range where they'd first discovered Doctor Gero's laboratory. While Krillin led the way, Trunks kept casting concerned glances at his sister. The usual calculating light in her eyes had been replaced by something darker, more troubled. Her brow would furrow occasionally, followed by a sharp narrowing of her eyes - telltale signs of internal turmoil that only those who knew her well would recognize.
In Cellera's mind, her father's accusation played on repeat: "Spare me your hypocritical lectures about self-sabotage." Each time the words echoed through her thoughts, they seemed to cut deeper. The frustration building in her chest was a tangled mess - anger at herself for her earlier mistakes, fury at her father for so casually throwing those failures in her face while simultaneously acknowledging and continuing his own self-destructive behavior.
But what truly twisted the knife was knowing she'd had a chance to redeem herself. She'd already failed once by overthinking Kakarot's condition, letting her mind spiral through theoretical possibilities instead of trusting her instincts. Then, when presented with an opportunity to correct her course, she'd swung too far in the opposite direction, letting her battle drive override her judgment with Gero.
Her fingers drifted up to touch the pendant that lay against her chest - her mother's gift. Would her mother be disappointed to see how she had handled things? Had she gone through similar struggles at this age, fighting against the pull of her own nature, especially under Frieza's rule?
The mountains loomed closer, but Cellera barely noticed them through the haze of her self-recrimination. She had always prided herself on finding that same balance her mother had achieved, but lately that equilibrium seemed to be slipping. The fact that her father had been the one to point this out only made it more difficult to bear.
"Do you think it's really possible?" Trunks' question pulled Cellera from her spiral of self-doubt. "Going beyond Super Saiyan?"
She pressed her thumb to her lip, considering the question. It offered a welcome distraction from her darker thoughts. "I've never given it much consideration," she admitted. "Super Saiyan itself was thought to be nothing more than legend until recently." A slight smile tugged at her lips despite her mood. "But if anyone could achieve it, it would be father and Kakarot."
The thought sparked another wave of uncertainty. She had achieved the legendary transformation before any of them - though she'd only beaten Kakarot to it by the smallest margin. Yet that meant little now. Her father had mastered the form with remarkable speed, calling upon its power at will, while she had struggled for eight months just to access it again after that first explosive transformation on Namek. Only the knowledge that Kakarot had faced similar difficulties gave her any comfort.
"Hey! Look down there! I think we've made it." Krillin's shout yanked her from her thoughts. Below them lay the remains of Doctor Gero's laboratory, now little more than a field of rubble from Trunks' earlier attack.
They descended through the bitter mountain air, landing among the scattered debris. A harsh wind whipped through the ruins, making Krillin huddle into himself as his teeth chattered audibly. "I-it's freezing!" He stamped his feet, trying to generate warmth. "S-So it was under the laboratory? How are we supposed to find it underneath all this rubble?"
The remnants of Gero's life work surrounded them - twisted metal, shattered glass, and crumbled stone scattered across the mountainside like a giant's discarded toys. Somewhere beneath this destruction lay the answers they sought.
"Simple," Cellera stated, raising her hand to release a controlled ki blast that cleared a section of debris. She turned to Trunks and Krillin, gesturing to different areas of the ruins. "If we each take a section and work systematically, we'll find the entrance faster."
They nodded in agreement, spreading out across the rubble field. The mountain air filled with the sound of small explosions as they carefully cleared away layers of destruction, searching for any sign of Gero's hidden facility.
"Over here!" Trunks called out after several minutes of searching. "I think I've found something."
Cellera and Krillin made their way to where Trunks stood. A metal ladder descended into darkness, its top rungs bent and broken from the laboratory's collapse.
"Nice work," Cellera said, while Krillin flashed Trunks an appreciative grin. Without further discussion, they dropped down into the underground chamber one by one.
The secret laboratory proved surprisingly austere. A massive computer dominated the center of the room, its surface dotted with blinking lights. Thick tubes snaked out from its base, connecting to a large pod filled with green liquid. Papers and scientific equipment lay scattered across several workbenches, telling the story of Gero's obsessive work.
"Take a look at this," Trunks said, moving toward the pod. Cellera followed, fighting back her instinctive revulsion as she approached. Her brother's voice carried a note of disbelief as he added, "This must be what becomes Cell in our time."
Cellera forced herself to study the tiny organism floating in the viscous green fluid. It seemed impossible that something so small could develop into the monster they'd encountered in Gingertown. Yet the evidence was undeniable - this was Cell in his embryonic form.
Unable to stomach the sight any longer, she turned her attention to the papers strewn across nearby tables. As she began sorting through the documents, Krillin's voice carried across the room.
"Find anything about the androids?"
"Perhaps," Cellera replied, her eyes widening as she examined one particular set of blueprints. "I think I may have found something significant."
The technical drawings in her hands promised to change everything they thought they knew about their mechanical adversaries.
"Look at this," Cellera said, laying the blueprints across a cleared section of workbench. Trunks and Krillin leaned in, their eyes widening as they read the label at the top.
"C-Cyborgs?!" Trunks' voice cracked with disbelief.
Krillin glanced between the siblings, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Is there really a difference?"
"A significant one," Cellera replied, studying the intricate diagrams. "Androids are purely mechanical constructs - artificial beings made entirely of machinery. Cyborgs, however, are living organisms enhanced with cybernetic components."
Krillin's blank stare made her pause. "Could you say that again in normal person speak?" he asked. "Some of us aren't geniuses like you and Gohan."
Cellera clicked her tongue, rolling her eyes at his request. "17 and 18 were - well, are human," she clarified. "They've been modified with cybernetic enhancements, unlike the purely mechanical androids we faced before." Her fingers traced the detailed notes beside the diagrams. "They retain human biological functions. They could even have children if they wanted to."
The revelation cast their earlier encounter with the androids in a new light. "It explains why they display more personality than the others," she added. "They're not just following programming - they're modified humans making their own choices."
As her eyes moved to the documents attached to the blueprints, Cellera felt her stomach twist. The clinical words documenting how Doctor Gero had acquired his "test subjects" painted a picture more horrifying than she'd imagined.
The documents revealed themselves to be Gero's personal notes, his precise handwriting detailing a story far darker than mere mechanical construction:
Subject Acquisition: Twins Lapis and Lazuli (local delinquents) successfully acquired for Project Infinity. Their youth and natural combat aptitude make them ideal candidates for cybernetic enhancement. The fact that they were merely street criminals means their disappearance will raise minimal suspicion.
Cellera's hands tightened on the papers as she continued reading:
Procedure successful beyond expectations. Complete cellular reconstruction has transformed these worthless delinquents into the perfect instruments of my revenge. Designated as Android 17 (Lapis) and Android 18 (Lazuli). Once properly conditioned, they will carry out my mission to destroy Son Goku.
The final entry carried an edge of frustrated rage:
Those blasted children refuse to submit to proper control. Their rebellious nature persists despite extensive modifications. No choice but to place them in stasis until I can implement stronger behavioral constraints. They WILL learn to obey their creator.
As Cellera and the others finished reading, a heavy silence fell over the underground laboratory. The clinical brutality of Gero's notes cast their mechanical opponents in an entirely new light. These weren't simply robots following programming - they were kidnapped children who had been forcibly transformed into living weapons.
"Doctor Gero really was a bastard," Cellera stated flatly, her voice tight with controlled anger.
"You sure have that right," Krillin responded, his usual cheerful demeanor replaced by rare fury.
As Cellera began carefully rolling the blueprints, Trunks cleared his throat. "We should finish up here and get these to Mother. She'll need them to create that switch to destroy the androi-" He caught himself, the new knowledge making him adjust his terminology. "The cyborgs."
A surprising wave of sympathy washed over Cellera at the thought of destroying 17 and 18. The revelation of their true nature - actual humans who had been twisted into weapons - cast all their previous interactions in a harsh new light. Their behavior made more sense now: the rebellion against Gero's programming, their treatment of combat as a game rather than a mission. They weren't just malfunctioning machines; they were people who had been robbed of their humanity, transformed into tools for someone else's revenge.
17's insistence on doing things "the fun way" carried a deeper meaning now. He wasn't simply being illogical or rebellious - he was trying to reclaim something of the life that had been stolen from him, experiencing the freedom denied to him during those years in stasis.
Cellera shook her head sharply, trying to dispel these dangerous thoughts. No. She couldn't allow sympathy to cloud her judgment, not again. She had already made too many mistakes that endangered others - hesitating with Kakarot's illness, letting her battle instincts take over with Gero. With her father's judgment compromised by pride and Cell actively hunting the cyborgs, eliminating them was the only rational choice.
Lost in her internal struggle, she failed to notice Krillin watching her with growing concern. The former monk had seen that conflicted expression before - on his own face, when he had first sensed there might be more to these "androids" than simple machines.
Krillin studied Cellera carefully, recognizing the battle waging behind her carefully controlled exterior. It was strange, seeing the daughter of someone as ruthlessly pragmatic as Vegeta wrestling with sympathy for their enemies. But that tension between practical necessity and moral consideration was something he could understand.
Despite his reputation as the group's jokester, Krillin had always possessed a unique sensitivity to others' emotional states - perhaps because he'd spent so many years learning to read opponents in battle, or maybe simply because he himself wore his heart on his sleeve.
He'd felt that same conflict himself just days ago, when he'd first glimpsed Android 18's face. Something in her eyes had spoken to him - a flash of humanity that seemed impossible for a supposed killing machine. Now, watching Cellera's expression shift between resolve and doubt as she rolled the blueprints, he recognized a kindred spirit caught in an impossible position.
Their reasons might be different - his own conflict stemming from an unexpected personal connection, while hers seemed rooted in a principled understanding of what it meant to be used as a weapon - but the internal struggle was remarkably similar. It was a side of her he'd rarely glimpsed beneath her composed exterior, a depth of compassion that added another layer to the person he'd come to know. Unlike Vegeta with his ruthless pragmatism, Cellera had always shown a more tempered approach - but this moment revealed something deeper than mere restraint.
As he observed her visibly trying to push away her sympathy, Krillin turned away to give her privacy, a small, sad smile touching his lips. He wouldn't mention what he'd seen - not when her father's recent accusation of hypocrisy clearly still stung. But he filed away this glimpse of her more compassionate nature, another reminder that even the most methodical fighters could find themselves torn between what strategy demanded and what their hearts suggested was right.
With grim determination, they systematically destroyed every piece of equipment in Gero's underground laboratory. Machinery sparked and shattered under their combined assault, ensuring nothing of the doctor's work would survive. They ascended through the access shaft, emerging into the bitter mountain air.
"And now to finish the job!" Krillin's shout echoed across the mountainside as he unleashed a final blast, reducing what remained of the facility to smoldering rubble.
As they took to the sky, putting distance between themselves and the destruction behind them, Cellera adjusted her grip on the rolled blueprints. "I'll take these to Bulma," she said, glancing at her brother. "Do you want to come with me?"
Trunks' response caught her off guard. "Actually, I'm going to try training alongside Father." His expression hardened with resolve. "If there really is a level beyond Super Saiyan, I need to discover it too."
His words stirred something in Cellera as she recalled her earlier thoughts about their transformations. The gap between her father's mastery and her own struggles with the form suddenly seemed wider. If an even greater power existed beyond Super Saiyan, they would need to reach it. Their current strength might not be enough against the combined threats they faced.
"You really think Vegeta will allow that?" Krillin asked, skepticism clear in his voice.
"I'm not exactly thrilled about it either," Trunks admitted, casting a meaningful glance at his sister. "But Father understands, even if he won't admit it - training with a partner yields better results than training alone."
A smirk crossed Cellera's face at her brother's insight. He had already learned to read their father's nature - how the pride that made him reject help would also prevent him from refusing a training partner when it meant faster progress. She had experienced it herself during their three years of preparation, watching her own abilities grow through their shared training sessions. Even Gohan, despite his current crisis of confidence, had shown remarkable growth training alongside others.
"You could join us after delivering the blueprints," Trunks suggested. The suggestion made Cellera's face scrunch up in obvious irritation - her father's earlier words still stung too fresh.
Trunks couldn't help but chuckle at her expression. "I'll take that as a no."
"I'll consider it," she replied, though her tone suggested otherwise. "But don't expect much from father right now. His pride has taken another hit - he may just ignore you entirely."
Trunks acknowledged her warning with a casual two-finger salute before banking away from them. "Best of luck!" Krillin called after him.
The sprawling dome of Capsule Corporation soon came into view. Minutes later, they stood in the familiar confines of Dr. Briefs' laboratory, watching as the scientist pored over the recovered blueprints with professional fascination.
"Remarkable," he muttered, adjusting his glasses. "Doctor Gero's work is truly extraordinary - there are elements here that even I can't fully comprehend." He shook his head slowly. "Such a shame he didn't direct that genius toward better purposes."
Bulma hunched over her desk, a separate set of blueprints spread before her. Cellera stood at her shoulder, watching as Bulma's trained eye dissected the complex diagrams. "The base structure is human," Bulma mused, tracing a circuit path with her finger. "But everything else has been enhanced with bio-organic components."
"Can you find any weaknesses in the design?" Cellera asked, studying the intricate modifications that had transformed two ordinary teenagers into something beyond human.
"I'll need time to study this more thoroughly," Bulma replied, still absorbed in the technical details. Then a confident smirk - one that mirrored Vegeta's with uncanny accuracy - spread across her face. "But I can already see a few components that might give us an opening. Just leave it to me!"
"We'll work as quickly as possible," Dr. Briefs assured Krillin, who had started edging toward the door.
"Thanks, really," Krillin replied. He paused, noticing that Cellera hadn't moved from her position beside Bulma's desk, still intently focused on the blueprints. "Are you coming back to Kame House?"
Cellera considered for a moment. The thought of returning to watch helplessly for news of Cell's movements held little appeal compared to potentially helping develop a solution here. "I think I'll stay and assist Bulma if I can."
"Alright," Krillin nodded in understanding. "I'll let Gohan and the others know where you are." He took his leave, the automatic doors sliding shut behind him with a soft hiss.
The mention of Gohan's name brought a slight pang - she knew he'd worry, but right now she needed to focus on something productive rather than dwelling on her earlier failures.
Three days had passed since the discovery in Gero's lab. Cellera had finally torn herself away from Capsule Corporation, where she'd spent countless hours helping Bulma decipher the android schematics and complete work on their replicated Saiyan armor. The promise of fresh air and a change of scenery had drawn her to Kame House - but any hope of respite vanished the moment she arrived.
The assembled group huddled around the television, faces grim as the news anchor's voice filled the room: "...reports of a monster in the southern district. Early estimates suggest at least half the town's population has been killed..."
"Damn it!" Piccolo's curse echoed what they were all thinking. Cell had struck again.
"The plane's ready!" Yamcha called from the doorway. "We need to move!"
They rushed outside where Yamcha's aircraft sat waiting, engines already humming. As they piled in and took to the sky, Yamcha's voice carried a hint of optimism. "Cell won't be able to sense our approach this way," he said, hands steady on the controls. "We've got him this time!"
"Don't be too sure," Piccolo cautioned, his expression dark. "Cell is clever. If he spots us coming, he'll just mask his presence again and slip away."
The unspoken truth hung heavy in the air - they were racing toward another empty town, hoping to catch a glimpse of their enemy before he could vanish yet again. Cellera wondered if two days spent poring over android schematics might have been better used searching for Cell, but she pushed the thought aside. Second-guessing herself had already caused enough problems.
Piccolo sat cross-legged near the front of the aircraft, his eyes closed in meditation. Cellera and Gohan exchanged knowing looks - they both recognized how deeply the situation with Cell was affecting the Namekian warrior. His frustration seemed to run even deeper than his concerns about the androids.
"Southern district isn't too far," Yamcha called from the pilot's seat. "Just sit tight everyone."
Gohan and Cellera settled into seats at the back of the plane, the familiar comfort of each other's presence offering a momentary respite from the tension. After a moment, Gohan turned to her. "You didn't want to train with Trunks and your dad?"
"No," Cellera replied, a slight pout forming. "I don't particularly want to see father right now."
Gohan almost smiled at her expression - it was the same one she'd worn since childhood whenever Vegeta had done something to annoy her. But something in her tone suggested this was different from their usual father-daughter friction. "What happened?" he asked softly.
Cellera bit her lip, struggling with how to explain. "We had a... disagreement," she finally said. "The worst part is, father was right about what he said." Her hands clenched slightly in her lap. "But seeing him now, after he acknowledged his self-destructive behavior and still chose to continue it..." She shook her head. "It would just remind me of my own failure."
Her words carried a weight Gohan hadn't heard before - not just frustration with her father, but a deeper self-recrimination that didn't suit her usual confidence.
Gohan's brow furrowed at her uncharacteristically harsh self-judgment. This wasn't like her - Cellera had always faced challenges head-on, learning from mistakes rather than dwelling on them. "What do you mean by failure?"
Cellera shifted in her seat, turning slightly toward him. "Father explained that I've reached a certain stage in Saiyan development. Our drive for combat intensifies, our battle instincts become heightened." She paused, studying his reaction. "You haven't experienced anything like that, have you?"
"No," Gohan replied, considering. "Nothing like what you're describing."
"It's probably because you're half Earthling," she said. As she spoke, she couldn't help but notice how different their approaches to combat had always been. While they both enjoyed their spars, there was something uniquely pure about Gohan's relationship with fighting - untainted by the Saiyan urge to test limits and seek stronger opponents, possibly putting them in danger. In some ways, she envied that clarity.
"Because of these... changes," she continued, pushing aside her reflection, "I let myself get carried away fighting Gero. I drew it out when I should have ended it quickly." Her voice tightened with frustration. "That delay gave him the chance to activate 17 and 18."
Gohan sat quietly for a moment, processing her words. Her actions during their confrontation with Gero made more sense now - that unusual prolonging of the fight that had seemed so out of character. Still, watching her berate herself over something she had little control over didn't sit right with him.
"You're being too hard on yourself," he said finally. "After Gero attacked Bulma's plane, any of us could have gone after him. We all share the blame for letting him escape."
"But I-" Cellera started to protest, but Gohan cut her off.
"If you don't stop blaming yourself," he threatened with mock seriousness, "I'm going to leave a bug in one of your Sudoku puzzles."
The effect was immediate. Cellera's expression shifted from stubborn argument to horrified disgust so quickly that Gohan had to bite back a laugh. A smirk spread across his face as she turned to him, eyes narrowing.
"You crafty scholar," she accused, though there was no real heat in her words.
"I still can't believe you're scared of bugs," he teased, unable to help himself.
A pink flush crept across Cellera's cheeks as she noticed the others turning to look at their exchange. "I've told you before - I'm not scared of them!" she insisted, lifting her chin with wounded dignity. "I simply find them absolutely revolting."
"Whatever you say, Princess," Gohan replied, his grin widening at her embarrassment.
Before Cellera could formulate a suitably royal retort, a figure suddenly materialized in the center of the plane's cabin, causing everyone to jump.
"Kakarot!"
"Goku!"
"Dad!"
The simultaneous shouts of surprise filled the aircraft as they crowded around the newly arrived Saiyan, everyone except Yamcha (who needed to focus on flying) and Piccolo (who maintained his meditation).
"Did you use Instant Transmission to get here?" Krillin asked, grinning at his friend's dramatic entrance.
"Sure did!" Kakarot replied with his characteristic easy smile.
"So you've recovered?" Cellera asked, studying him carefully for any lingering signs of illness. The guilt she'd been carrying still weighed on her conscience.
"Yep! Though I am pretty hungry," he added, patting his stomach.
The simple admission drew a small smile from Cellera - trust Kakarot to wake up from a near-fatal illness thinking about food. "I'm glad to see you well," she said, then hesitated before adding, "And... I'm sorry I didn't stop your fight sooner when I noticed something was wrong."
Kakarot looked down at her, his expression softening as he recognized the genuine remorse in her voice. "Hey, don't worry about it," he said, flashing that disarming grin of his. "To be honest, it was my fault. I knew something was off the moment I woke up that morning." He rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish chuckle. "But I really wanted to fight those androids!"
Cellera sighed, though she couldn't quite suppress her smile. Another point for Saiyan blood overriding common sense, she thought. It seemed the only ones immune to this particular trait were Trunks and Gohan. Speaking of whom - she turned to find Gohan giving her that knowing smirk she'd come to both cherish and dread. She hated when he was right.
The way his eyes sparkled with that mix of triumph and affection made it impossible to maintain her irritation, though she did her best to look properly annoyed anyway.
Goku approached the meditating Namekian, breaking into a wide grin. "Hey, Kamicollo!"
The nickname startled a laugh from both Cellera and Gohan, though they quickly stifled it when Piccolo fixed them with a withering side-eye. The Namekian turned to Goku with barely contained irritation. "Don't fuse our names," he growled. "My base is mostly Piccolo anyway, so just stick with that."
"Right, sorry," Goku nodded, his expression growing more serious. "But from what Chi Chi and Master Roshi told me about what's been happening, I hate to say it, but I can't beat the cyborgs or Cell as I am now." He turned to face Gohan and Cellera. "That's why I came to get you two. We're going to train in a place where you can get a year's worth of training done in a single day."
Cellera and Gohan exchanged bewildered looks. A place that could manipulate time itself? Cellera found herself wondering why they hadn't used such a valuable resource during their three-year preparation for the androids.
Her unspoken question was quickly answered by Piccolo's shocked reaction. "The Room of Spirit and Time?" The Namekian's usual composure cracked. "No one has ever managed to last a full year in there. Even you could only handle a month when you tried it, Goku!"
"Yeah, but this time will be different," Goku replied with unwavering confidence. "I'm taking Vegeta and Trunks too. I'm sure we can all handle it just fine."
"Then get moving," Piccolo urged, his expression grim. "Cell's killing more people by the hour, growing stronger with each victim."
The gravity of their situation hung heavy in the air. Whatever this mysterious room was, if it could help them catch up to Cell's rapidly growing power, they needed to try it - no matter how difficult it might prove to be.
"Grab onto my hand," Kakarot instructed, holding his arms out to both of them. Cellera gripped his wrist while Gohan took his hand.
Before they could depart, Krillin approached his longtime friend. "Hey, tell me something," he said, a mix of curiosity and concern in his voice. "Having all these enemies stronger than Frieza show up at once - does it scare you? Or are you excited?"
Cellera watched as Kakarot's expression shifted into one she knew all too well - that gleam of anticipation she'd seen countless times on her father's face, the same look that had begun appearing in her own reflection lately. "A little bit of both," he admitted.
The world blurred around them, accompanied by a soft whooshing sound. When reality snapped back into focus, they stood on rocky terrain behind Trunks, who sat perched on an outcropping. Their father's distinctive silhouette was visible at the cliff's edge some distance away.
"Goku!" Trunks exclaimed, his surprise likely stemming from both their sudden appearance and Goku's recovered state.
"How's training with Vegeta going?" Goku asked cheerfully.
Trunks turned to Cellera with an expression that perfectly conveyed his exasperation, making her fight back an amused smile. "Not well," he replied dryly. "Cellera was right - Father's been treating me like a nuisance and ignoring me completely."
"All Father's done for the past three days is stand there, doing nothing," Trunks continued, gesturing toward Vegeta's motionless form.
Cellera couldn't help but laugh. "He's not just standing there," she explained, recognizing their father's meditation stance. "He's training his mind."
"That's right," Goku agreed with an understanding nod. "He's thinking it through-"
"A rare occurrence," Cellera muttered under her breath, drawing stifled smiles from both Gohan and Trunks.
"-starting to see himself as something above a Super Saiyan," He finished, either missing or choosing to ignore her commentary.
He approached Vegeta, launching into an explanation about a place called the Room of Spirit and Time up on The Lookout. "You can get a year's worth of training done in a single day," he explained, immediately catching Vegeta's attention.
"Are you serious, Kakarot?" Vegeta demanded, turning sharply.
"Yeah! You should come with us," Goku replied. "You can train with Trunks and Cellera while I work with Gohan."
"Fine," Vegeta agreed, his usual scowl deepening. "But I go in first. Is that clear, Kakarot?"
Cellera rolled her eyes at her father's predictable demand for priority, but Kakarot simply nodded his agreement.
The group took to the air, ascending to The Lookout where Mr. Popo emerged to greet them. Cellera's gaze swept across the pristine white tiles and elegant architecture. The last time she'd been here, during Garlic Jr.'s attack years ago, the place had been in ruins. Seeing it restored to its full glory was almost surreal.
"We need to use the Room of Spirit and Time," Goku explained to Mr. Popo. "To train for our fight against Cell and the cyborgs."
Mr. Popo nodded solemnly. "Follow me," he instructed, turning to lead them deeper into The Lookout's mysterious interior.
As they followed Mr. Popo through The Lookout's winding corridors, a thought struck Cellera. "Kakarot," she asked, "how did you convince Chi Chi to let you take Gohan to this room?"
Goku's face broke into a broad grin. "She said it was fine as long as Gohan keeps up with his studies after all this is over." He paused, turning to his son with pride. "But that's not all - she told me to make sure Gohan gets as strong as possible! Said to give it everything we've got!" He shook his head in amazement. "I honestly thought I'd have to do more convincing."
Cellera glanced at Gohan, noting how his mother's words had sparked a new fire in his eyes. "What changed her mind?" she wondered aloud.
Gohan shrugged, a slight smile playing at his lips as he recounted his earlier attempt at secret training at Kame House. The mental image of Gohan trying to hide his practice from Chi Chi drew a quiet laugh from Cellera - she could picture the scene all too clearly.
Their conversation ended as Mr. Popo halted before an imposing set of doors. He began listing the room's amenities - bath, toilet, food storage, sleeping quarters - but Cellera found herself more interested in the doors themselves. They seemed to radiate an ancient power.
"What would the time dilation factor be?" Trunks asked, studying the entrance with equal fascination.
"Every hour out here equals approximately fifteen days inside," Cellera answered, performing the quick mental calculation. When both Gohan and Trunks turned to her with surprised looks, she simply shrugged. "Simple math."
The smugness in her tone earned her an eye-roll from Gohan, though she caught the slight smile he tried to hide.
"Tell me something, Kakarot," Vegeta turned to face his rival, his stance radiating the same arrogance he'd maintained since their earliest encounters. "Why bring me here to train? You do realize that once this is over, you're my ultimate objective?"
Cellera couldn't suppress the urge to roll her eyes. Here they stood at the threshold of a mystical room that could help them face multiple world-ending threats, and still her father remained obsessed with surpassing Kakarot. Some things, it seemed, would never change, no matter how dire the circumstances.
Goku's response carried none of Vegeta's intensity. Instead, he matched the Saiyan prince's smug look with an easy confidence that had always seemed to infuriate her father. "Well, I probably won't be able to handle these guys by myself," he said with a casual shrug. "You must be sensing that too, right?"
A low chuckle rumbled from Vegeta's throat, carrying equal parts amusement and threat. "You might regret this decision."
The charged atmosphere between the two Saiyans was broken by Mr. Popo's measured voice. "Who will be entering first?"
"Vegeta, Trunks, and Cellera," Goku replied, seemingly unaffected by Vegeta's implied challenge.
The massive doors creaked open under Mr. Popo's touch, revealing what appeared to be simple sleeping quarters beyond. The sight seemed oddly mundane given the room's supposedly extraordinary properties. Trunks hesitated at the threshold, turning back to address Goku with the polite demeanor he'd inherited from Bulma. "Thank you for letting us go first."
"No problem!" Goku's bright response carried his usual warmth. "Good luck in there - and try to play nice!"
Cellera fought the urge to roll her eyes again at the suggestion. Given the fresh wounds from her confrontation with her father and his current mood, expecting them to "play nice" seemed hopelessly optimistic. The tension between them still crackled like poorly contained ki, and now they would be confined together for what would feel like a year. She could only hope their shared goal of growing stronger would outweigh their recent discord.
Cellera followed Trunks toward the entrance but found herself hesitating at the threshold. Reality crashed over her like a physical wave - she would be spending what would feel like an entire year confined with her father and future brother. The thought made her stomach twist slightly. She'd witnessed enough of their interactions over the past few days to know they clashed as frequently as Bulma and her father did, their personalities grinding against each other like poorly matched gears.
The space suddenly felt more confining as she realized there would be no escape, no refuge in Bulma's laboratory or the comfort of her puzzles. There would only be training, pushing themselves beyond their current limits. While the Saiyan part of her thrilled at the prospect, another part remembered how quickly tension could escalate between her and her father even during their normal training sessions.
But they had no choice. If they wanted to surpass Super Saiyan, if they hoped to stand any chance against Cell and the cyborgs, they needed this time. They needed every possible advantage they could get.
Drawing in a steadying breath, she turned for one final look at Gohan. It struck her suddenly that while only a day would pass for him, she would experience an entire year before seeing him again. Their eyes met across the threshold between normal time and the strange realm they were about to enter.
"Come back strong," he said simply, but she could read everything else in his expression - his confidence in her abilities, his concern for her spending so long with her father in this state, his promise to grow stronger himself while she was gone.
A smile tugged at her lips as she nodded. "See you in a year."
"You mean tomorrow," he replied with that cheeky grin that always managed to lighten her mood, no matter the circumstances.
The exchange lasted only moments, but it gave her the resolve she needed to step through the doorway into whatever challenges awaited them in the Room of Spirit and Time.
The massive door sealed behind them with a resonant boom that seemed to mark their separation from normal time. Cellera turned and walked deeper into the bedroom area, taking in their surroundings.
"It's so hot," Trunks observed, pulling at his collar. "And the air... it's thin. Even the gravity feels many times stronger than Earth's."
The increased gravity barely registered to Cellera after countless hours in the gravity chamber with her father, but she could see how it affected Trunks' movements. As they stepped beyond the living quarters, both siblings stopped short, stunned by what lay before them.
Nothing. An endless white void stretched in every direction, unmarked by horizon or feature. The vastness of it made Cellera's mind reel as she tried to process the infinite expanse.
"No wonder Kakarot could only last a month," she said, her voice sounding strangely muted in the empty space. "The psychological toll alone..." She let the thought trail off, understanding now why no one had managed a full year.
Her father, however, surveyed the endless white with something approaching satisfaction - or at least, as close to satisfaction as Vegeta ever showed. "This will be more than sufficient for our needs," he declared.
A slight movement caught her attention. Trunks stood rigid, his expression betraying growing uncertainty as he stared into the void. Cellera placed a steadying hand on his back, making him startle and look down at her with wide eyes.
"Remember why we're here," she said quietly. "We need this strength - not just for our timeline, but for yours too."
The reminder seemed to steel his resolve. Trunks nodded sharply, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it aside. The next instant, Vegeta's boot connected with his back, sending him tumbling through the white expanse.
"Guard down!" Vegeta barked, his face twisting with disappointment. "My own son, lacking even the basic instincts of combat." His eyes shifted to Cellera, that familiar predatory gleam entering them. "Let's see if you've maintained better habits."
Unlike her brother, Cellera was ready when Vegeta struck. She caught his incoming punch with a practiced block, their forearms connecting with enough force to send shockwaves through the void. They exchanged a rapid series of strikes, each attack flowing into the next with practiced precision. But her father hadn't earned his reputation as a tactical genius for nothing - he found an opening in her defense and exploited it ruthlessly, his fist connecting with her jaw and sending her skidding back across the endless white expanse.
She came to a stop near Trunks, who watched their exchange with undisguised amazement. Wiping a thin trail of blood from her lip, Cellera dropped into her fighting stance.
"Well brother," she smirked, despite the throbbing in her jaw, "welcome to Hell."
Their father's training methods were brutal, but she couldn't deny their effectiveness. She felt the familiar surge of Saiyan battle instincts rising within her, that primal urge to fight that had caused her so much trouble lately. But this time would be different. She forced her breathing to steady, consciously restraining that rising tide of combat lust. She wouldn't let those instincts control her - instead, she would master them, bend them to her will. After all, wasn't that what a true Saiyan princess should do? The thought brought an unbidden smile to her face as she remembered Gohan's nickname for her. Perhaps his nickname for her would start to become more than just that.
Trunks watched his sister's controlled power with growing determination. He dropped into his own stance beside her, his resolve hardening. In his timeline, his sister had known he wasn't ready for the brutal reality of fighting the cyborgs - she'd protected him one final time by knocking him unconscious before she and Gohan went to face them. He'd woken to find them both gone, having paid the ultimate price while he'd been powerless to help. But not this time. This time he would prove himself worthy of fighting alongside them. He would emerge from this room with the power to protect them both, to prevent the tragedy of his world from repeating in this timeline. Even if it meant sacrificing himself just as they had for him.
The air around them crackled with tension as father and children faced each other across the endless white void, each driven by their own burning motivations.
A taunting smirk crossed Vegeta's face as he watched his children's determination build. When they launched themselves at him simultaneously, he met their assault with practiced ease, analyzing their movements even as he defended. Their potential was obvious - but then again, they were his children. What else could he expect? His smirk deepened as he planned not only to surpass Kakarot, but to ensure his children would surpass that clown's brat as well. Though speaking of Kakarot's son... that untapped potential still simmering beneath the surface could prove interesting. If the boy ever fully awakened that power, he might actually give Vegeta someone worth fighting after he'd dealt with Kakarot.
As he deflected another of Cellera's punches, he seized her wrist, attempting to use her momentum to send her crashing into Trunks. The boy managed to dodge - not entirely hopeless then. Like his sister, he had achieved Super Saiyan at a remarkably young age, both of them proving their Saiyan inheritance. But unlike Cellera, his fighting betrayed his inexperience. He fought like a novice, all power and no refinement. No wonder he couldn't handle those mechanical pests in his timeline.
Vegeta blocked Cellera's incoming kick, noting the familiar gleam in her eyes - that pure joy of combat she usually kept so carefully contained. Over the past three years, he'd only seen that look a handful of times. Usually, she fought with her mother's calculated precision, every move carefully planned and executed. But when this side of her emerged, she became gloriously unpredictable, her technique blending Rhuba's precision with true Saiyan battle instinct.
The sight stirred something unexpected in him - not just pride in her strength, but a deeper recognition. She was fighting much as Rhuba had in those rare moments when she had fully embraced her own Saiyan nature. Those times had been few and far between, usually only when protecting Cellera or during their most intense private spars.
In those fleeting instances, Rhuba had shown him a different kind of Saiyan strength - not the mindless battle lust that drove most of their race, but a harmony between combat instinct and strategic thinking. It was what had first drawn him to her, that balanced approach to fighting that gave her an edge few could match.
Now his daughter stood at that same crossroads, struggling to find equilibrium between her strategic mind and the battle instincts flowing through her Saiyan blood. Her current inability to master this balance wasn't weakness - it was simply part of growth, a necessary challenge all Saiyans faced as they matured.
Cellera's struggle now was laying the groundwork for something potentially greater than she yet realized. If she could find that harmony between instinct and strategy that had made Rhuba so formidable, she would become a truly exceptional warrior.
Not that he would ever admit such thoughts aloud. Better to push her relentlessly, to force her to discover this balance on her own as he had been forced to do. When she finally managed it - and he had no doubt that she would - the resulting power would make her a force to be reckoned with.
The moment Trunks left himself open, Vegeta struck. His fist drove into his son's stomach, doubling him over, before a swift ki blast sent him tumbling through the void. By the time this year was done, Vegeta would surpass Kakarot in every possible way - that much he swore. And perhaps, through this relentless training, his children would overcome their individual weaknesses and begin to reach their true potential as well.