A/N: Hello! Apologies for the late upload, as I had traveled out of state last night for a family reunion and didn't get to my destination until 2am and I just now woke up!
The landscape below shifted as Cellera and Trunks flew northward, barren rocky plateaus giving way to dense forests that cloaked the mountainsides. Pine trees swayed in their wake, their father's passage moments before having already disturbed the canopy. The air grew noticeably cooler as they climbed higher into the mountain range, thin clouds occasionally obscuring their view of the rugged terrain. These mountains would provide Dr. Gero with countless places to hide - every shadow-filled valley and tree-covered ridge could potentially conceal his laboratory.
The wind whistled past Cellera's ears as she searched the jagged landscape below, her keen eyes scanning for any sign of unnatural structures among the wilderness. The scent of pine and mountain air filled her lungs, a stark contrast to the acrid smoke they'd left behind at the battlefield. Her muscles remained tense, ready to change course at the slightest indication of their quarry.
"So, when did you figure it out?"
Trunks' question pulled her from her thoughts. She turned to him, brow furrowed in confusion as they navigated between two snow-capped peaks. His lavender hair, so like their mother's, whipped wildly in the mountain currents.
"When did you figure out who I really was?" he clarified, referencing her earlier slip when she'd called him by name.
A knowing smirk crossed Cellera's face. "I had my suspicions moments after you left our timeline, thanks to Kakarot's parting comment before we began our training." She couldn't help but laugh at how Trunks' eyes widened. "Thankfully, I was the only one to piece it together. My suspicions were confirmed after you were born - there's no denying how much you resemble father and Bulma."
The memory of cradling infant Trunks flashed through her mind, his tiny features already showing hints of the warrior he would become. Strange how the baby's future self now flew beside her, a young man of seventeen while she remained only ten. The paradox of time travel still felt profoundly unsettling, no matter how much she'd considered the theoretical consequences.
The corners of Trunks' mouth curved upward. "I knew you'd be the first to figure it out."
"Technically, Piccolo knew before I did," Cellera admitted, veering around a jutting cliff face. Loose stones tumbled down the mountainside as her passage disturbed the fragile equilibrium. "Though he has his Namekian hearing to thank for that."
"You mentioned timelines earlier." Trunks matched her path as they wove through the increasingly dense mountain range, the forest below growing thicker with each passing mile. A hawk cried out somewhere beneath them, its call echoing against the stone walls.
Cellera nodded, her expression growing more serious. "After Kakarot showed no signs of the heart virus, I researched some theories. Everything pointed to multiverse theory being in play."
She remembered the long nights spent in Bulma's library, poring over theoretical physics texts and quantum mechanics journals, seeking answers to the paradox Trunks' arrival had created. While the others had been focused solely on training, she'd needed to understand the implications of what his warnings meant for their reality. The absence of Kakarot's illness had been the first concrete proof that Trunks' appearance had already altered their timeline irrevocably.
"Yeah," Trunks agreed, his voice taking on a distant quality. "When I returned to the future, nothing had changed." His eyes softened, a fond smile playing at his lips. "Although, you and Gohan had predicted that would be the case."
Cellera's breath caught at the mention of her future self and Gohan working together. Trunks' casual reference stirred questions she hadn't considered before. What kind of relationship had they developed in that ravaged future? How had they survived together? Before she could inquire about her future counterpart, they finally caught sight of their father's form ahead, his silhouette stark against the forested mountainside.
Trunks' expression suddenly darkened, his face, which typically mirrored Bulma's gentler expressions, twisted into a scowl that made him the spitting image of their father. The transformation was so stark that Cellera nearly faltered in her flight.
"He didn't even attempt to save mother, or his infant son, me! How could she say he has good points?" Trunks muttered, his voice barely audible over the wind.
Cellera studied her brother's profile, remembering how he'd dismissed their father as a "jerk" earlier. While she couldn't deny that Vegeta could be difficult - his pride and temper often making him nearly impossible to deal with - something about Trunks' perception bothered her. He spoke as if he had no real knowledge of who their father was, as if the subtle signs of Vegeta's care were completely foreign to him.
The thought struck her suddenly - had her future self never shared stories of their father with him? Never taught him to read the meaning behind Vegeta's actions rather than his words? A deep sadness welled within her at the realization. She knew the complex language of their father's behavior, how his gruff comments often masked genuine concern, how his strategic advice during training sessions was his way of showing care. If Trunks had never learned to decipher these signs, he'd have entirely missed the depth beneath Vegeta's harsh exterior.
"It seems you two have finally caught up!" Vegeta called over his shoulder, sparing a brief glance at his children. The morning sun glinted off his armor as he maintained his lead, muscles tense with anticipation. "Are you planning to tag along the whole way and try to stop me? We'll just see about that!"
Their father's battle cry echoed across the mountainside as he surged forward, his power climbing higher. The air around him distorted with golden energy, his transformation sending ripples of force that disturbed the snow on nearby peaks. Trunks immediately transformed into Super Saiyan, golden light exploding around him as he matched Vegeta's pace. Cellera followed suit, though she couldn't help rolling her eyes at their display as her own hair rose with the familiar rush of energy through her body.
The irony wasn't lost on her - for all Trunks' criticism of their father, he'd just responded to Vegeta's challenge exactly as Vegeta himself would have. The same pride, the same competitive spirit, the same instinctive need to prove himself. In that moment, despite his lavender hair and Bulma's facial features, Trunks had never looked more like their father.
As they streaked through the mountain passes in pursuit of Dr. Gero, Cellera's thoughts drifted to those they'd left behind. She pictured Gohan carrying her infant brother, protecting both him and Bulma. His quiet strength and unwavering reliability had always been a stabilizing presence in her life. A small smile tugged at her lips - at least she knew they were in capable hands. She could only hope they were having an easier time of it than she was, stuck between her prideful father and a brother who was more like him than he realized.
The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the landscape as Gohan navigated his unusual cargo through the air. With Yajirobe's arms wrapped around his shoulders from behind and Bulma cradled carefully in front, holding baby Trunks, he had to maintain a slower pace than he would have liked. The weight of three passengers strained his arms, though his recent training made it manageable. He adjusted his flight path to avoid turbulence, hyper-aware of the infant's safety.
While he didn't mind helping Cellera by taking her family to safety, he was beginning to understand her usual exasperation with certain companions. Yajirobe had complained about their speed, the altitude, and his growling stomach for the past twenty minutes without pause.
"Could you hurry up, Gohan? My arms are getting tired," Yajirobe complained from his perch on Gohan's back, shifting his weight in a way that nearly threw off their balance.
"Would you stop your belly aching already?!" Bulma snapped, twisting her head to glare up at him. Her blue hair whipped across her face in the wind, and she blew it away with an irritated huff. "It's poor Gohan who's doing all the work!"
Gohan sent a silent thank you to Bulma. Though she could be just as demanding as Yajirobe at times, at least she recognized when someone else was making an effort. He felt baby Trunks squirm in his mother's arms, tiny fists waving in response to her raised voice.
"It's okay, Bulma," Gohan said, trying to maintain his role as peacekeeper. The last thing he needed was for his passengers to start moving around while they were several hundred feet above the ground.
"I'm just sick of Yajirobe's whining!" She shifted her attention to the baby in her arms, her voice softening instantly as she stroked his lavender hair. "Trunks, when you grow up, I hope you turn out to be just like Gohan!"
Baby Trunks responded with a delighted gurgle that brought a genuine smile to Gohan's face. Despite the weight of their current situation, the infant's innocent joy was infectious. The sound reminded him of Cellera's earlier interaction with her baby brother—how her usual stern demeanor had completely melted as she cradled him. That memory warmed him in a way that had nothing to do with the afternoon sun beating down on them.
"Well, you don't have to worry about him!" Gohan offered cheerfully, adjusting his grip to better support Bulma. "From what I've seen, I'd say the grown-up Trunks is pretty cool!"
"He's not that cool..." Yajirobe muttered from above, drawing an exasperated sigh from Gohan. The man seemed determined to complain about everything, including their allies.
"What did you say?!" Bulma's eyes narrowed dangerously before a calculating smirk crossed her face. She looked down at baby Trunks again, her voice taking on a sing-song quality. "Well, we'll just tell Daddy about him!"
"No, don't! Not Vegeta!" The panic in Yajirobe's voice was immediate. His arms tightened around Gohan's shoulders, almost cutting off his air supply.
Gohan couldn't help but chuckle at the man's sudden change in attitude. Though he understood Yajirobe's fear—Vegeta's temper was legendary, especially when it came to matters involving his family. The temptation to join in the teasing was too strong to resist. "Yeah. I don't think Cellera would like to hear that you badmouthed her brother like that."
Yajirobe suddenly leaned forward, appearing in front of Gohan's face with his hands clasped together in panic. The sudden movement nearly sent them plummeting, and Gohan had to quickly recover their stability, his heart hammering as he tightened his grip on Bulma and baby Trunks.
"Please, no! Don't tell your little girlfriend what I said! I'll do anything!" Yajirobe pleaded, his eyes wide with genuine terror.
The word 'girlfriend' hit Gohan like a ki blast, heat rushing to his face as his eyes widened. "S-She's not my girlfriend!" he stammered, watching as Yajirobe rolled his eyes before settling back into position on his back. The sudden shift in weight almost threw off his flight pattern again, and Gohan silently promised himself he would never agree to carry Yajirobe anywhere in the future.
"Pfft. Whatever, kid. I saw you two playing house with the baby earlier."
Bulma's silence only made matters worse. Was that really how everyone saw them? Gohan's face burned hotter as memories from earlier flooded back—Cellera's hand closing over his to rescue it from Trunks' surprisingly strong grip, the way her usually fierce demeanor had softened completely while handling her baby brother. He'd never seen that side of her before today, and something about it made his heart beat faster.
He tried to focus on the horizon ahead, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Cellera. The way she'd looked at him when she entrusted him to keep her family safe—there had been complete trust in her eyes, a trust that made him feel both proud and terrified of letting her down. Was that what friends did, or was it something more? He didn't know, and that uncertainty was almost as unsettling as Yajirobe's teasing.
Desperate to change the subject, Gohan shifted the attention back to Yajirobe. "What do you have against Trunks anyway? He's the one who warned us about the androids, and he may have saved my dad's life by bringing him that medicine from the future!"
Bulma, seemingly taking pity on Gohan's obvious embarrassment, jumped in to help. "That's right! My Trunks is a good boy!" She smoothed the infant's fine hair, her maternal pride encompassing both versions of her son.
"I just hope that medicine really works like he said it would..." Gohan's voice trailed off as darker thoughts crept in. With how much the timeline had already shifted, what if the medicine didn't work? What if his father still died from the virus? And if that happened...
The scenery below blurred as his mind filled with worst-case scenarios. His father incapacitated while the androids hunted them. His mother left alone. His own inability to protect anyone without his father's strength to rely on. The faces of Cellera and the others flashed through his mind, counting on him to come through.
"Don't worry, Gohan!" Bulma's confident voice cut through his spiral of fears. Her free hand reached up to touch his arm reassuringly. "Your dad's going to be fine!"
Her words pulled him back to the present, reminding him that fear accomplished nothing. He nodded firmly, determination replacing uncertainty. "Well I've got to know for sure! Hang on!"
He suddenly increased his speed, feeling Yajirobe's startled yelp as he slipped before Gohan doubled back to catch him—though whether the maneuver had been entirely accidental after all that teasing remained Gohan's secret to keep. The wind whistled past them as he accelerated, focusing his energy on reaching Capsule Corporation as quickly as possible.
As they continued toward their destination, Gohan's thoughts drifted to Cellera and the others pursuing Dr. Gero. The memory of her promise to return safely echoed in his mind. He could only hope they would find the laboratory in time to destroy the androids before they could be activated.
Something told him their challenges were just beginning, but at least he could fulfill his part of the mission—keeping Bulma and baby Trunks safe. If he couldn't do that much, how could he face Cellera again?
The flare of Krillin's ki led Cellera, Vegeta, and Trunks to a hidden entrance carved into the mountainside. They landed on a narrow ledge where Tien and Krillin repeatedly rammed their shoulders against a thick metal door, the sturdy barrier refusing to yield despite their efforts. Each impact echoed through the mountain valley but barely dented the reinforced steel. Piccolo stood nearby, watching their futile attempts with growing impatience, his cape billowing in the mountain breeze.
Cellera studied the entrance with narrowed eyes. The door's design spoke volumes about what lay beyond—not just reinforced metal, but sophisticated electronic locks that would have stymied ordinary intruders. Dr. Gero had clearly spared no expense in concealing and protecting his work. Her fingers traced the Red Ribbon emblem emblazoned on the door's surface, the metal cold beneath her touch.
"Step aside," Piccolo commanded, his deep voice resonating with authority as he raised his hand toward the door. Energy began to gather in his palm, the air around them growing charged with power.
"If you destroy the androids, I'll have to take it out on you!" Vegeta's threat crackled with barely contained rage. His eyes gleamed with the prospect of battle, his stance shifting to one of aggression even before they'd entered the laboratory.
Cellera fought back a wave of irritation. The past hour of flying had been filled with constant sniping between her father and brother, their clashing personalities wearing her usually steady patience dangerously thin. She had begun to understand why Bulma occasionally threatened to lock Vegeta out of the gravity chamber—some days his single-minded focus was more exhausting than training.
However, before her frustration could peak, a voice from behind the metal door froze her in place.
"17! Cease the ridiculous prank and take care of the intruders outside at once!"
The unmistakable sound of Dr. Gero's command confirmed their worst fears. The cold certainty in his tone suggested complete confidence in his creations' abilities—and if Trunks' warnings held any truth, that confidence was well-founded.
"No! Damn it! We didn't make it here in time!" Piccolo's words echoed Cellera's internal dread.
Her mind raced to recalculate their odds of success. If the androids were already active, their entire strategy had to shift. No longer could they hope for a preemptive strike; now they faced a defensive battle against unknown enemies. The variables multiplied exponentially, each scenario more dire than the last.
"Get out of the way, dumbasses!" Vegeta shoved forward, pushing past Tien and Krillin with enough force to send them stumbling backward. Energy gathered in his palm, the familiar blue glow of his signature attack illuminating the rocky ledge as shadows danced across his determined features.
"You can't!" The panic in Trunks' voice was raw, desperate. "All of us have to get out of here right now!"
Cellera caught the genuine fear in her brother's tone—not the ordinary caution of a warrior facing a powerful enemy, but the bone-deep terror of someone who had lived through the nightmare they were about to face. She understood his reaction completely; she would likely feel the same if she had witnessed her friends and family systematically destroyed by these creations.
But retreat wasn't an option. The androids were already active, and her Saiyan pride wouldn't allow her to abandon innocent lives to their mercy. Besides, fleeing would only delay the inevitable confrontation. She tensed her muscles, ready to face whatever emerged from behind that door, silently praying their intense training would be enough.
"Please, just wait until Goku recovers and then we—" Trunks' plea was cut short as Vegeta unleashed his blast.
The Big Bang Attack slammed into the door with devastating force. The explosion illuminated the entire mountainside in brilliant blue light before darkness fell again. Metal shrieked and stone crumbled as the entrance collapsed inward, debris raining down as the laboratory's floor cracked under the explosion's power. The scent of scorched metal and ozone filled the air, acrid smoke billowing from the new opening.
As the dust settled, two figures stood amid the wreckage of the laboratory entrance. They matched Trunks' description perfectly: a young man with dark hair and an orange scarf, and a beautiful blonde woman in a black shirt and jean jacket. Their casual postures amid the destruction sent chills down Cellera's spine—they hadn't even bothered to shield themselves from the blast, as if Vegeta's attack posed no more threat than a gentle breeze.
To any passerby, they might have appeared completely human—attractive teenagers perhaps, or young adults on a hiking trip. But the Red Ribbon emblem on their clothing and the cold calculation in their eyes revealed their true nature. Even more unsettling was how they barely acknowledged the group's dramatic entrance, instead turning their attention back to Dr. Gero as if the shattered door was merely a minor inconvenience.
"Why did you go back to the old energy absorption type for a newer model?" Android 18's question carried a hint of mockery as she examined Dr. Gero's mechanical body. "Could it be that you found the perpetual energy model too powerful to keep under your control?"
The words 'keep under your control' caught Cellera's attention immediately. The android's tone suggested a history of rebellion, one that Dr. Gero's subsequent reaction only confirmed. These weren't mindless tools but beings with independent thought—potentially far more dangerous than simple killing machines.
"Take care of these intruders at once!" the doctor demanded, his mechanical features twisting with rage, the exposed wiring in his damaged hand sparking with each movement.
Android 17 merely shrugged, running a hand through his dark hair with practiced nonchalance. "Stop whining; we'll fight them when we're good and ready, old man."
"What did you say?!" Dr. Gero's outburst was cut short as Android 18 wandered across the laboratory, stopping before another pod.
Cellera took the momentary distraction to survey the laboratory. Computer screens lined the walls, displaying complex data streams she couldn't decipher from this distance. Robotic parts and half-finished projects littered workbenches, alongside tools that looked more suited for surgery than mechanical engineering. The place felt like a twisted fusion of operating room and computer lab—cold, clinical, and deeply disturbing.
"Oh? Android 16?" Android 18 studied the container with mild interest, running her fingers along its surface. "This is another perpetual energy type, isn't it?"
Horror spread across Dr. Gero's face, a reaction that sent ice through Cellera's veins. If even the creator of these monsters feared one of his own creations, how powerful must this Android 16 be?
"Did she say...Android 16?" The shock in Trunks' voice was palpable. "I've never heard of a 16! What the hell is going on?!"
Cellera watched her brother's composure crumble as each new revelation further derailed his expectations. His hands trembled slightly—an almost imperceptible movement to anyone else, but obvious to her trained eye. Their chances against two infinite-energy androids had been slim enough—a third would make their survival nearly impossible. Their probability of victory dwindled with each passing second, like grains of sand through an hourglass.
"Don't you dare touch that pod!" Dr. Gero's panic only confirmed their worst fears.
As the doctor continued to argue with his creations, Krillin leaned toward the others, his voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe we should run while they're arguing with each other?"
"Go ahead and do that." Vegeta's sarcasm dripped with contempt, his arms folded across his chest in a stance of stubborn pride. "After all, I'm the only one here who can handle these things."
Meanwhile, Android 17 released a smooth chuckle at Dr. Gero's ongoing protests. "She could be signing our death warrants?" His tone carried casual amusement, as if discussing the weather rather than their potential destruction. "Not likely, my power rating is higher. Who cares anyway? Go ahead sis."
Dr. Gero's mechanical voice rose to a fever pitch, desperation cracking through his usual authority. "Stop countering me at every turn! You two are the same as 16—FAILURES!" His hand clenched as he made his final threat. "Just try it! I'll shut you down for good this time!"
Android 17's smirk held no trace of concern, his blue eyes reflecting the laboratory's harsh lighting. "We broke your little switch, remember?"
"I'll just make a new one!" Gero snarled back.
As Android 18's hand moved toward the pod's control panel, Dr. Gero's composure shattered completely. "DIDN'T YOU HEAR A SINGLE WORD I SAID?! DON'T TOUCH THAT SWITCH!"
What happened next occurred so quickly that Cellera barely registered the movement. One moment Dr. Gero stood raging at his creations; the next, Android 17's hand had pierced straight through his mechanical body. The doctor's expression shifted from fury to shock as he turned toward his attacker, sparks flying from the gaping hole in his chest. "What do you think you're—"
The question died unfinished as Android 17 withdrew his hand and delivered a devastating kick. Dr. Gero's head separated from his body with a sickening crack, rolling to a stop at their feet. His final words emerged as static-filled whispers: "You miserable...piece of junk..."
The sound of Android 17's boot crushing what remained of Dr. Gero's head made Cellera cringe. The casual brutality of it, the complete lack of hesitation—it confirmed every warning Trunks had given them. Yet she couldn't help but note the irony: the creator destroyed by his creation, the controller by the controlled. There was a certain poetic justice to it, however disturbing the execution.
Android 17 spared them only the briefest glance, his eyes sweeping over the assembled warriors with mild curiosity before striding toward his sister at the pod. "Now, let's get on with it."
A sudden surge of ki drew Cellera's attention to her brother. Trunks' hair began to rise, golden light erupting around him as rage and desperation fueled his transformation. "If they set that android free it will be the end of all of us!"
The energy gathering in his hands grew to devastating proportions—a blast powerful enough to obliterate not just the androids, but the entire mountain along with them. Without hesitation, Trunks released the attack. Cellera and the others barely had time to leap to higher ground as the explosion engulfed the laboratory, the mountain dissolving beneath its power.
They hovered at a safe distance, watching debris rain down through the settling smoke. The mountain where Dr. Gero's laboratory had stood was now little more than rubble, jagged stones tumbling down to the forest below. Dust and ash filled the air, making it difficult to see clearly through the haze.
"Geez! If you're going to pull a stunt like that, how about you warn us first!?" Krillin called out, still catching his breath from their hasty retreat.
Cellera opened her mouth to second Krillin's complaint, but the words died in her throat. Through gaps in the clearing smoke, she spotted figures standing atop a distant plateau. Her heart sank as recognition hit. "No..." The whispered denial escaped her lips as dread settled cold and heavy in her chest.
"You fool! What a waste of time!" Vegeta's harsh condemnation cut through the air toward Trunks.
"What do you mean a waste of time?" Trunks started to ask, but his question trailed off as he followed his sister's gaze. All color drained from his face at the sight before them. The androids stood completely unscathed, proceeding with their task as if Trunks' devastating attack had been nothing more than a mild interruption. They were even now preparing to open Android 16's pod.
Cellera felt her brother's ki waver as despair overtook him. She understood why—that blast had contained everything he had, all his power and desperate hope of preventing the nightmare he'd lived through. And it had accomplished nothing. The sense of helplessness that washed over him was palpable, his shoulders slumping slightly as the reality sank in.
"All you succeeded in doing was wasting your energy." Their father's voice carried an unsettling note of anticipation. Rather than sharing their horror at the androids' invulnerability, he was actually excited by it. His eyes gleamed with the prospect of worthy opponents, his Saiyan blood eager for the challenge. Cellera couldn't help but inwardly scowl, as she was all too familiar with her father's dangerous combination of pride and battle-lust that could lead to either triumph or disaster.
They could only watch, helpless, as the androids opened the pod to reveal their third companion.
The newly awakened Android 16 towered over his companions as he emerged from the pod. His imposing frame was clad in a black undersuit beneath a lime green vest, with matching boots and bracers. The striking combination of his fiery mohawk and gold hoop earrings gave him an almost tribal appearance, though the Red Ribbon insignia on his vest marked him as unmistakably one of Dr. Gero's creations.
After a brief exchange between themselves, the three androids simply took to the air and departed, treating their would-be opponents as if they weren't even worth acknowledging. The casual dismissal stung worse than any direct attack could have. At least confrontation would have given them a chance to gauge their enemies' capabilities. This indifference left them with nothing but questions and mounting dread.
Cellera pressed her thumb to her lip as she observed the androids' unexpected behavior. According to Trunks' warnings, these androids had been ruthless killers who destroyed everything in their path. Yet here they were, completely dismissing the fighters before them.
"Th-they just took off." The relief in Krillin's voice was palpable as a tentative smile crossed his face. "Thank goodness."
"Just where exactly are they going?" Tien's question carried equal parts confusion and suspicion as he tracked their trajectory across the clear blue sky.
Piccolo's eyes narrowed as he analyzed their flight path. "One thing's for sure, they won't be attacking North City, they aren't going the right way."
The realization struck Cellera suddenly, her eyes widening as she calculated their heading. "They're going to Kakarot's house!"
"That's right!" Krillin's face lit with understanding. "Doctor Gero's entire plan was to get Goku back for bringing down the Red Ribbon army!"
"But why would they follow Doctor Gero's orders?" Tien's question cut to the heart of the matter.
Cellera saw the logic in his observation. These androids had shown nothing but contempt for their creator, defying his every command before finally destroying him. Their sudden adherence to his mission made no sense. Had they adopted his vendetta as their own? Or did their pursuit of Kakarot serve some other purpose entirely?
But before she could pursue this line of thought further, she noticed her father's attention fixed on something else entirely—and the look in his eyes suggested their situation was about to become even more complicated.
"Who cares? None of that is important right now!" Vegeta's sudden outburst cut through their strategic discussion. Cellera turned to find her father staring in the direction the androids had disappeared, his features twisted with growing irritation. She recognized that look—the one that appeared whenever someone dared to wound his pride.
"They ignored me!" His voice rose with each word, indignation building like pressure in a sealed container. "Not even the slightest acknowledgement that I was here. Are they saying I am beneath their notice?! That was a mistake!"
Golden light erupted around Vegeta as he prepared to pursue the androids. The stones beneath his feet cracked and crumbled from the force of his power, his aura sending ripples through the air. Before he could launch himself after them, Trunks moved to block his path, determination and desperation warring across his features.
Cellera watched the confrontation unfold with grim certainty—she'd seen this side of Vegeta too many times to count. Once his pride took control, there would be no reasoning with him. Trunks was about to learn this lesson the hard way. She considered intervening but quickly dismissed the idea. Her future counterpart may have shielded Trunks from this aspect of their father's personality, but perhaps it was time he understood exactly what they were dealing with.
"No! You can't chase after them!" Desperation colored Trunks' voice as he pleaded with their father. "I'm begging you, we need to wait for Goku and fight them all together! It's the only way to beat them!"
Vegeta's response was to lift his chin with characteristic disdain, looking down at Trunks despite their similar height. "I don't need his or any of your help! I'll handle them all myself." A smirk crossed his face as he added, "And after I do, I'll finally deal with Kakarot once and for all! Now get out of my way."
When Trunks held his ground, disbelief and frustration warred across his features. "What the hell is wrong with you?" He demanded, unable to comprehend their father's reckless pride. "You insist on running off to a battle that will be your death?!"
The sound of impact echoed across the mountaintop as Vegeta's fist drove into Trunks' stomach. Cellera's hand instinctively rose to her own abdomen, phantom pain stirring at the memory of a similar moment years ago on Namek—when she had disobeyed her father's command to kill Gohan.
Trunks doubled over, clutching his midsection as Vegeta streaked away in pursuit of the androids. His face registered shock beyond the physical pain—the betrayal of being struck by his own father, something he clearly never expected despite the warnings she'd given about their father's temper.
Cellera was at her brother's side in an instant, the debris from the laboratory crunching beneath her boots as she moved to steady him.
"Are you alright?" She steadied him with one hand, feeling his body still trembling from the impact. "Taking a punch to the gut from father isn't easy, just take slow deep breaths."
The look Trunks gave her was a mixture of pain, horror, and confusion—likely wondering how she could speak of such violence with such calm understanding. Nevertheless, he followed her advice, drawing careful breaths until the worst of the pain subsided. As he straightened, his gaze fixed on their father's retreating form, golden light streaking across the horizon like a comet.
"I apologize for not stepping in," Cellera said quietly, aware that the others were watching them with varying degrees of concern and awkwardness. "But when father feels his pride and strength as a warrior are questioned, nothing else matters." She turned to address the whole group, her voice taking on greater urgency. "Though, we definitely need to follow him. Contrary to his belief, there's no way Vegeta can fight all three of them alone, not when they have infinite energy."
She didn't add her deeper concern—that this particular combination of wounded pride and eager anticipation made her father even more reckless than usual. His Saiyan thirst for powerful opponents, normally a strength, would work against him here. The androids had shown a calculating intelligence that made their motives and methods unpredictable—they might view this encounter as anything from a game to a serious battle.
"There's no time to waste." Piccolo's agreement carried the weight of command as they all launched into the air, racing after Vegeta and the androids.
The afternoon sun had begun its descent as Gohan navigated his unusual passenger arrangement through the sky. After a brief stop in the woods for Bulma to tend to Trunks, they were airborne once again, though their progress toward Capsule Corporation remained frustratingly slow. Yajirobe's weight on his back and Bulma perched carefully on top made maintaining steady flight a constant challenge.
"Gohan? How much longer will it be till we get home? I'm tired!" Yajirobe's whine drew a carefully suppressed sigh from Gohan. The muscles in his arms had begun to ache from hours of carrying his three passengers, though he'd sooner bite his tongue than complain.
"Hang on, Yajirobe. We'll be there real soon. Okay?" He tried to keep his voice encouraging despite his growing irritation. The forest below had given way to rolling hills now, which meant they were making progress, however slowly.
"Hey! Stop your complaining!" Bulma snapped from her position, baby Trunks nestled securely in her arms. The afternoon breeze ruffled her blue hair as she glared over her shoulder. "We're tired too!"
"But I can't stand it!" Yajirobe's groan dissolved into mumbling. "I'm so hungry. And I'm cold." His stomach rumbled loudly as if to emphasize the point, the vibration traveling through Gohan's back.
Gohan made a mental note to never, under any circumstances, agree to fly Yajirobe anywhere again. Between his constant complaints and baby Trunks' innocent babbling, he wasn't entirely sure which of his passengers was actually the child.
"Gross! That's kinda rude!" Bulma chided before her voice softened as she addressed her son. "Trunks, oh, you're being such a good boy!"
Trunks responded with an excited squeal that quickly transformed into giggles. Bulma joined in the laughter, but their amusement was cut short by Yajirobe's horrified cry: "Man! He sprung a leak!"
Under normal circumstances, Gohan might have found some satisfaction in this karmic justice. However, Yajirobe's panicked wiggling threatened their already precarious flight formation, his movements jostling Gohan's carefully maintained balance.
"Quit moving around Yajirobe! Do you wanna fall off? Sit still, will ya!" Gohan's commands fell on deaf ears as the larger man continued squirming, demanding tissues from anyone who would listen.
The sun sank lower on the horizon, casting long golden rays across the landscape as Gohan struggled to maintain their course. Drawing a deep breath, he reminded himself of the promise he'd made to Cellera - to get her family home safely. He just hadn't expected the task to test his patience quite this much.
The city skyline finally appeared in the distance, Capsule Corporation's distinctive domed buildings visible against the sunset. Relief washed over Gohan as their destination came into view. Just a few more minutes, and he could finally set his passengers down, freeing himself from Yajirobe's complaints and the increasingly uncomfortable sensation of baby Trunks' "leak" threatening to soak through to his gi.
As they approached the sprawling Capsule Corp compound, Gohan wondered how Cellera and the others were faring in their pursuit of Dr. Gero. Had they found his laboratory yet? Were they already engaged in battle with the androids? The thought of her facing such dangers while he was stuck on transport duty made his stomach twist with worry.
He wished he could be there fighting alongside her, watching her back as she would undoubtedly watch his. Instead, all he could do was complete this task and then wait - something that had never come easily to him, especially when those he cared about might be in danger.
The wind whipped past them as they flew, following the distinctive energy signature of Vegeta's Super Saiyan form. The landscape below transformed from mountain ridges to winding highways, where scattered, abandoned vehicles suggested the androids hadn't completely abandoned destruction, even if they had spared the fighters. The fading afternoon light cast long shadows across the terrain, adding an ominous quality to their pursuit.
They finally caught up to the battle on a winding mountain road, arriving just in time to see Android 18's palm strike send Vegeta crashing through the mountainside. Rock and dust exploded outward as his body carved a tunnel through solid stone. The impact echoed across the valley, a testament to the android's overwhelming power.
"Father, are you alright?" Trunks called out as they landed on the broken asphalt.
Vegeta emerged from the rubble, and Cellera's quick assessment of his condition wasn't encouraging. Scratches and bruises covered his body, blood trickling from a cut above his right eye and down his chin from a split lip. His battle armor, designed to withstand tremendous damage, already showed cracks across the chest plate. In stark contrast, Android 18 stood virtually untouched—only her denim jacket showing any sign of the battle, a small tear at the shoulder that seemed to annoy her more than any of Vegeta's attacks.
Despite his obvious injuries, Vegeta fixed them with his characteristic smirk, though irritation edged his voice. "You pests sure know how to ruin my fun. Do you honestly believe that you will be any help against her?"
The arrogance in his tone made Cellera's jaw clench, but she couldn't deny the truth in his words. Her father was their strongest fighter with Kakarot incapacitated, and Android 18 had damaged him this severely in what appeared to be casual combat. Cellera quickly calculated their options, running through potential strategies in her mind.
Their only chance might be to coordinate their attacks against a single android—but even that strategy was complicated by the presence of Androids 16 and 17. Though curiously, neither seemed inclined to interfere in the fight, content to watch from the sidelines. Android 16 stood immobile as a statue, his attention seemingly fixed on a flock of birds circling overhead, while 17 stood with the relaxed posture of someone watching an entertaining sporting event.
Trunks stepped forward, attempting one more time to reason with their father. "Please, listen to me! We need to retreat and come up with a plan. Together, we might stand a chance, but separately—"
"Do you want another beating, boy?!" Vegeta snarled. "Take a lesson from your sister and stay quiet. You obviously lack Saiyan Pride."
"What good is having pride if you just wind up dead because of it?" Trunks muttered under his breath, quiet enough that only Cellera caught it.
Cellera whirled toward her brother, eyes wide with shock. The words revealed a deeper truth that hit her like a physical blow—her future counterpart must have never shared stories of their father with him. How could Trunks not understand that Saiyan pride wasn't just their father's arrogance, but the very core of who he was? It defined him, sustained him through Frieza's torment, gave him purpose when all else was lost.
"Has my counterpart ever spoken about father to you?" The question escaped her before she could stop herself, but Android 18's voice cut off any possibility of response.
"If you want to run away, go on ahead." The android's tone carried casual dismissal as she folded her arms across her chest. "Those who flee aren't worth chasing anyway."
The statement only confirmed Cellera's earlier theory—the androids viewed this as a game, not a mission. They wanted worthy opponents, not just victims. It was a distinction that might prove useful if they survived this encounter.
"You must be joking." Vegeta met Android 18's gaze with open contempt. "You expect me to run when I'm about to destroy you?" His lips curled into a sneer as he continued. "Don't lump me in with these idiots. Let me be clear: If it came down to fighting alongside the Earthlings, The Namekian, or Kakarot, I'd rather fight and die alone before accepting help from any of them."
A slow clap punctuated the end of Vegeta's declaration. Android 17 approached, his movement carrying an almost theatrical appreciation as his boots crunched on the broken asphalt. "That was an excellent speech. I can see from your skills on the battlefield that you're every bit the Saiyan Prince."
Vegeta spat a mouthful of blood to the side before fixing 17 with a withering glare. "A punk kid like you has no business praising the likes of me. So keep it to yourself."
Android 17's response was a sardonic smile that didn't reach his cold eyes. "It's obvious that each of you respects the warrior's code, but I feel it's only proper to warn you anyway. If any of you interfere with Vegeta and 18's one-on-one fight, I'll have to step in as well."
Cellera pressed her thumb to her lip as she studied Android 17, her eyes narrowing in concentration. Nothing about this situation aligned with logic or expectations. These androids were offering them a fair fight, even adhering to formal combat rules—behavior that contradicted everything Trunks had warned them about.
The cold-blooded killers Trunks had described seemed worlds apart from these artificial beings who appeared more bored than bloodthirsty, treating combat like some kind of game. Their most brutal act had been executing their creator, and even that felt more like rebellion against tyranny than senseless violence, given what she'd witnessed of Dr. Gero's behavior. A new possibility formed in her mind - had the butterfly effect altered not just events, but the very nature of their adversaries?
"Got that pipsqueak?" Android 17's voice pulled her from her analysis. He'd noticed her scrutiny. "No helping your dad."
Cellera gritted her teeth at his condescending tone. "I understand. I don't need you to patronize me."
Her sharp response only drew an amused chuckle from him. "Alright, alright, just making sure."
His casual attitude only deepened her unease. Glancing toward Android 16, she found the giant merely gazing at the distant forest, a peaceful smile on his face that seemed completely at odds with his supposed purpose as a weapon of destruction.
"Great. Now that that's settled, shall we continue?" Android 18 called out, drawing everyone's attention back to the impending fight.
"I'd love to." Vegeta's confident reply barely left his lips before 18 burst forward.
Her right hook caught Vegeta squarely, the impact sending him hurtling toward the cliffside. He managed to recover mid-flight, retaliating with a savage headbutt followed by a double axel kick that sent 18 crashing into the rock face. Without hesitation, he gathered his energy and unleashed a Big Bang Attack after her.
The formal agreement to one-on-one combat seemed to have an unexpected effect on Vegeta. Cellera observed how her father's movements became more measured, his attacks carrying the strategic precision she recognized from their training sessions. As the smoke from his Big Bang Attack cleared, Android 18 emerged largely unaffected, though her appearance finally showed signs of combat - slight scratches marking her skin and tears in her clothing. The cold glare she fixed on Vegeta suggested she wasn't accustomed to taking damage at all.
"You aren't even phased after that." Vegeta's voice carried what might have been admiration, if not for the telltale twitch of his brow betraying his growing frustration. "You're really starting to get on my nerves!"
Android 18 shrugged off her ruined jean jacket with casual grace, a smile playing at her lips. "I'm surprised. You may be an alien, but you fight remarkably well for someone made of flesh and blood." Her head tilted slightly as she asked, "Tell me, is this Goku guy even stronger than you are?"
"Don't be ridiculous!" The mere suggestion sparked immediate indignation in Vegeta. "He may have temporarily slipped ahead of me, but now everything's as it should be, with me as the strongest."
18 brushed a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, releasing a dismissive huff. "Oh, then neither one of you... are anything special."
Cellera's eyes widened as she recognized what was happening. Android 18 had masterfully manipulated Vegeta, using his pride against him like a weapon more effective than any physical attack. The calculated insult shattered his strategic composure - his carefully planned strikes dissolving into wild, rage-fueled assaults that 18 blocked with ease. He was burning through precious energy with each futile attack, falling perfectly into the android's trap.
"Let her have it!" Tien's cheer rang out across the battlefield.
Cellera glanced at Trunks, who watched their father's assault with an expression of surprised awe. Only Piccolo seemed to share her growing concern about the fight's direction.
"Vegeta is going to get himself killed," Piccolo stated grimly, his words drawing sharp looks of confusion from Trunks and Krillin.
"Piccolo's right." Cellera's fingers dug into her biceps as she fought the urge to intervene. "He's let his anger blind him and is wasting precious stamina with every movement. The androids have infinite energy - she's slowly wearing him down."
The truth of her assessment became brutally clear as the battle continued. Android 18 blocked Vegeta's elbow strike with effortless control before sweeping his legs out from under him. Her right hook caught him squarely in the face, leaving him open for a devastating kick that connected with his left arm. The sharp crack of breaking bone cut through the air.
"Father!" Cellera's cry merged with Trunks' own anguished shout of "No! Damn it!"
Vegeta collapsed to his knees, clutching his shattered arm. Before Cellera could even process what to do next, golden light erupted around Trunks as he transformed into Super Saiyan, launching himself toward the fight.
"Trunks! No!" Her hand reached out uselessly as her brother drew his sword, charging headlong into disaster.
"NO! THAT IDIOT!" Piccolo's growl drew her attention to Android 17, who watched the scene unfold with a disappointed frown and shake of his head.
The battle erupted into chaos as Android 17 joined the fray, moving in perfect sync with his sister. While Piccolo and Tien rushed forward, 18 met Trunks' sword strike with a casual elbow block that left chips in the legendary blade. Before Trunks could process his weapon's failure, 17's strike from behind sent him crashing to earth.
"D-Down in one hit? And he's a Super Saiyan too!" The tremor in Krillin's voice reflected their mounting horror.
Every fiber of Cellera's Saiyan nature screamed at her to join the fight, to help her father and brother. But she forced herself to remain still, channeling her mother's measured approach as she studied the androids' techniques. One detail kept nagging at her - despite their overwhelming superiority, they weren't delivering killing blows. The question was why.
The battle's brutally efficient choreography continued to unfold. Android 17 spun to catch Piccolo's attempted sneak attack with a devastating kick, then smoothly transitioned to capture Tien in a headlock that quickly became a chokehold.
"You fool!" Vegeta's charge toward 17 ended before it began as 18 caught his ankle. She used his momentum to swing him directly into Trunks' attempted rescue, father and son crashing to the ground together.
Cellera noticed Trunks' golden aura fade - he was unconscious. Their father, however, maintained his Super Saiyan form despite his injuries. She recognized his tactics; he was playing possum, waiting for an opening. Her gaze shifted back to Android 17 as he released the now unconscious Tien. Piccolo charged in, only to be felled by a single precise punch.
Physical tremors ran through Cellera's body as she fought to contain her rage and maintain her focus. Her keen perception screamed that something about this situation wasn't adding up, and after her earlier failure with Kakarot's condition, she refused to ignore her instincts again.
Vegeta's surprise attack came exactly as she'd predicted - and failed exactly as she'd feared. Android 18 casually sidestepped his ki blast before countering with a punch that sent him to hands and knees. A kick rolled him onto his back, completely defenseless.
"Looks like I'd better see to it that you can't use your other arm either." 18's clinical observation was followed by the sickening crack of breaking bone. The pain finally proved too much - Vegeta's golden hair faded to black as consciousness fled.
Cellera held her breath, waiting for the androids to finish what they'd started. But as she'd suspected during her earlier analysis, they made no move to deliver fatal blows. She unclenched her fists, feeling the stiffness in her fingers from maintaining such tight control over her combat instincts. Beside her, Krillin stared at their fallen companions with naked terror - a reaction she couldn't fault given how effortlessly they'd been defeated. Yet that very ease raised the question again: why leave them alive?
Android 17 and 18 landed casually before them, as relaxed as if they'd just finished a light workout. "Go ahead, give them one of those senzu things," 17 said, gesturing toward their unconscious allies. "That should heal them completely, right?"
Krillin's jaw dropped at the unexpected suggestion, but 17 wasn't finished. "Let them know that once they brush up on their fighting, we'll be happy to take them on again."
That single sentence crystallized everything Cellera had observed about their behavior. The androids weren't following some programmed mission of destruction - they were treating this like an elaborate game.
17 approached her, and she could see the intrigue in his expression when she neither showed fear nor took a fighting stance. "You didn't want to help the others?" His smirk held genuine curiosity.
Cellera returned his expression with one of her own. "Something told me it wouldn't be fun for you."
His widening grin confirmed her theory completely. "Despite your age, you seem to be the smartest of the bunch," he remarked before turning back toward his sister.
"You're not going to ask where Goku is?" Android 18 questioned.
"Relax. There's plenty of time." 17 glanced back at Cellera with that same amused expression. "Besides, don't you think it'd be more fun to find him on our own?"
Android 18 responded with a dismissive "Whatever," rolling her eyes at her brother's theatrics. Their attention shifted to Android 16, who stood gazing at the forest with what could only be described as disappointment.
"What are you looking at, 16?" Android 17 asked.
"In all of the commotion, you scared away the birds." The giant android's mechanical voice carried an unexpected note of regret.
Cellera raised an eyebrow at this revelation. Throughout the entire battle, this supposedly devastating weapon had been completely absorbed in watching birds? He hadn't spared a single glance for the combat, his attention entirely captured by the forest's wildlife. This android was proving even more enigmatic than his companions.
As the androids prepared to depart - Android 18 declaring her need for new clothes - Krillin suddenly broke his stunned silence. "Wait up!" He launched forward, Cellera following close behind as he called out to their retreating forms.
"Do you need something?" Android 17 didn't even bother turning around as he asked.
"T-Tell me just what exactly is it you're after." Krillin's voice shook slightly but held firm. "Is it killing Goku?! Or are you out to turn the world upside down?"
"For now, all we care about is beating Goku." Android 17 gave a casual shrug. "We'll figure out what we'll do next afterwards."
Cellera's mind latched onto his precise word choice - 'beating' Goku, not killing him. Another piece of evidence that these androids weren't the mindless destroyers Trunks had described. They seemed more interested in the challenge than the carnage.
"So why go after Kaka-" Cellera caught herself, the familiar name feeling strange to suppress. "I mean Goku at all? Wasn't Doctor Gero the one who held a grudge against him? I don't see how this pertains to either of you now that he's gone."
"Doctor Gero has nothing to do with it. This is a game." Android 17's casual response carried no hint of the vengeance that had consumed their creator. "After all, Goku is supposed to be the strongest person in the world, right?"
"A game? That's the reason you're..." Krillin's voice trailed off, unable to process this unexpected motivation.
"That's why I said you didn't need to tell us where he is." Android 17 shrugged. "Hunting him down is part of the game."
Understanding dawned on Cellera as she studied the androids. Their rebellion had earned them freedom from Dr. Gero's control, yet they seemed adrift without purpose. There was something almost tragic about it - even in their newfound liberty, they clung to their creator's mission, transforming it into entertainment to give their existence meaning.
"J-Just supposing I were to ask you to give this up... would you?" Krillin's earnest attempt at negotiation drew an unexpected reaction from Android 18. The corners of her lips turned upward slightly, her eyes softening at his naive optimism.
The moment was shattered by Android 16's mechanical declaration: "No good. We were made to kill Son Goku."
The stark contrast between 16's mission-focused response and his companions' behaviors struck Cellera as significant. While 16's statement remained direct and objective-driven, 17 and 18 displayed more nuanced human traits - his playful taunts, her sarcastic confidence. Despite 16's earlier gentle concern for wildlife, when it came to Kakarot, he showed an unwavering commitment to his programmed directive. The difference became even more apparent when 18 suddenly approached Krillin, planting a quick kiss on his cheek with a flirtatious "Bye" that left him blushing furiously. Such a spontaneous, emotionally complex gesture highlighted that something fundamentally different existed between Android 16 and the other two.
As the androids prepared to depart, Cellera couldn't suppress a knowing chuckle. The sound made them pause, 18 scoffing while 17 turned back with raised eyebrows.
"Something funny, pint sized?" His amused tone only confirmed her assessment.
"You say Doctor Gero has nothing to do with it, but I beg to differ." Cellera met his gaze steadily. "You may pass it off as a game, but the truth is neither of you know what to do with yourselves without his mission. You have your freedom, but instead of choosing your own path, you're still following his programming - just reframing it as entertainment to make it feel like your choice."
17's usual playful demeanor shifted. In a blur of movement, he appeared before her, throwing a punch that stopped mere inches from her face. Cellera hadn't flinched or moved to defend herself.
"You're either very brave or very foolish," he remarked, studying her calm expression.
"Neither. I just understand you better than you think." Her eyes moved pointedly to his still-extended fist. "If you really wanted to hurt me, that punch wouldn't have stopped."
She'd noticed it during their entire encounter—the way his tone softened slightly when addressing her, the "pint sized" nickname that carried more amusement than malice, how carefully he'd controlled that punch. Beneath his dangerous exterior, Android 17 seemed to have a peculiar soft spot for children. Another human trait Dr. Gero had failed to program out of him.
17 withdrew his hand, a hint of respect crossing his features. "For someone who preaches about free will, you took quite a gamble on that assessment."
"Did I?" Cellera's smirk matched his earlier ones. "You're clearly capable of making your own decisions - you've shown more humanity in the past hour than Gero probably intended. So why let his obsession with Kakarot define your existence?"
Something flickered in 17's eyes - frustration, uncertainty, or perhaps both. He covered it quickly with his characteristic smirk, but not before Cellera caught it. "Pretty deep thoughts for a kid." He turned away, motioning to the others. "Let's go."
As they took to the air, Cellera noticed how his usual confident stride had gained a thoughtful edge. Her words had landed, even if he wouldn't admit it.
The moment the androids vanished from sight, Cellera turned to Krillin, who still stood frozen, one hand touching the spot where Android 18 had kissed him.
"Come on! We need to give the others a senzu bean. I'll handle father and Trunks." Her urgent tone snapped him back to reality.
They worked quickly, administering the healing beans to their fallen companions. As everyone regained consciousness, Cellera and Krillin explained their encounter - the androids' knowledge of the senzu beans, their treatment of the fight as mere entertainment, and their surprisingly merciful behavior.
"These androids are off the charts strong... I would have never imagined." Piccolo's words carried the weight of their collective shock. "To even think such strength is possible..." He shook his head in disbelief. "They toyed with us for the sport of it."
Cellera's attention shifted to her father. He stood apart from the group, his back turned rigid and fists clenched at his sides. She recognized the telltale signs of his wounded pride - not just from losing, but from being treated as nothing more than an amusing diversion by their opponents. His sudden takeoff into the clouds came as no surprise, though his destination remained a mystery.
The worst part was knowing that this defeat would only drive him to more reckless extremes. Her father had always been dangerous when cornered - but now, with his pride so thoroughly shattered, he would be more unpredictable than ever.
When Trunks moved to pursue Vegeta, Cellera caught his arm just as she had earlier. "Leave father be for now," she said softly, releasing her grip only when she felt the tension leave his muscles. "He had trained to the point of obsession to become a Super Saiyan after Kakarot and I. He had finally regained his lost pride and confidence only to have it broken again in mere moments by the android." Her eyes followed the direction Vegeta had disappeared, concern evident in her expression.
"S-Sorry," Krillin's voice was heavy with guilt as he stared at the ground. "If I hadn't frozen when the rest of you jumped in, maybe things would have turned out a little different."
"Don't let it bother you," Piccolo cut in. "Even if you and Cellera had joined, it wouldn't have made any difference. They pretty much took all of us down in one shot."
Tien stepped forward, his face grim. "I think we need to face the facts. No matter how strong Goku might be, he won't fare much better than Trunks or Vegeta did. I don't think we stand much of a chance against these things, even with Goku fighting alongside us."
"I should mention," Trunks added, his eyes fixed on the ground, "Those guys were a little different from the androids I know. The ones I fought didn't have such devastating physical strength. With them I could at least put up a decent fight on my own."
Cellera pressed her thumb to her lip as she absorbed the new information. She'd hoped the androids in this timeline might actually be weaker than those Trunks had faced. Instead, they seemed to have diverged into something even more formidable, though paradoxically less murderous.
"I say our future is looking pretty bleak right now. What do you think we should do?" Tien's question hung heavy in the air.
Piccolo considered for a moment before responding. "You four should make your way over to Goku's and move him some place safe. We can go over our options together after he's recovered from his illness."
Cellera noticed Piccolo's gaze drift upward into the distance. Having spent enough training sessions and spars alongside him, she recognized that calculating look. There was only one location in that direction that would draw such focused attention from the Namekian - Kami's Lookout. "What are you planning to do, Piccolo?" she asked, already suspecting his intentions.
"Good question." The evasiveness in his response only confirmed her theory.
"W-What's with that look on your face? Do you have some sort of plan in mind?" Krillin leaned forward eagerly, hope creeping into his voice for the first time since their defeat.
Piccolo's expression tightened with irritation as Krillin pressed on. "C'mon, tell us! We're all friends here right?"
"Friends?!" Piccolo's sudden outburst carried an almost theatrical intensity. "Don't get the wrong idea! Since when am I your friend?" His cape billowed dramatically as he turned to face them. "Don't forget that I'm the son of King Piccolo. If we ever had a truce, it was only to further my goal of conquering the world!"
Before anyone could respond, he shot into the sky, his departure as dramatic as his declaration. Cellera couldn't suppress a quiet huff of amusement as she watched him go. The same warrior who had sacrificed himself to save Gohan on Earth, who had fought alongside them on Namek, who had spent three years helping them prepare for this threat - now trying to maintain his fearsome reputation with all the conviction of a child's play-acting.
"That's right. He's the reincarnation of King Piccolo. It slipped my mind entirely. He's been using us this whole time." The wariness in Tien's voice was understandable. Cellera had heard enough stories from Bulma about King Piccolo's reign of terror, followed by Piccolo's own early days of villainy, to know why Tien remained suspicious. Yet from her first encounter with him on Earth, she'd seen something different in the Namekian warrior - something that defied his demonic reputation.
"No." Her firm contradiction made Tien turn to her in surprise. "He may have at one point, but from the time I've spent with him these past few years, world conquest no longer seems like his goal." A smile crossed her face as she thought of the young boy who had changed Piccolo so profoundly - the same reason he'd declined to return to Namek with his people. "Besides, he cares too much for Gohan to do anything that would make him upset or put him in harm's way."
"She's right," Krillin backed her up with a knowing smile. "Besides, when you think about it, Piccolo is a lot like Goku and Vegeta. He wants to be the best - stronger than anyone else. That's all he's thinking about right now."
Cellera nodded in agreement. Perhaps that explained why she'd always found it easy to talk with Piccolo - she'd unconsciously recognized how his drive mirrored her father's.
"That's why he flew off," Krillin continued. "He's going to cash in his last resort. At least, I think that's what he's doing."
"His last resort? What are you talking about?" Tien asked.
"Piccolo flew off in this direction." Krillin pointed upward. "The only thing over there is The Lookout, Kami's place."
"Kami? Why would he go there?" Tien's brow furrowed in confusion.
"His last resort? What are you talking about?" Tien asked.
"Piccolo flew off in this direction." Krillin pointed upward. "The only thing over there is The Lookout, Kami's place."
"Kami? Why would he go there?" Tien's brow furrowed in confusion.
"He's going to fuse with Kami." The realization formed a clearer picture in Cellera's mind as she remembered the once-unified nature of Kami and Piccolo. His earlier irritation made perfect sense now - Piccolo was preparing to reunite with his other half, just as he had merged with Nail on Namek to face Frieza.
"The Grand Elder had mentioned that if Piccolo and Kami hadn't split, he'd be able to hold his ground against even the Saiyans," Krillin explained excitedly. "If Goku and the others are Super Saiyans, then they'd probably become a Super Namekian!"
"B-But if that happens, Kami will disappear, and the Dragon Balls will no longer work, right?" Tien asked, concerned.
Cellera had to acknowledge the validity of his point. She noted Krillin's expression growing troubled as well, but the strategic reality of their situation was clear. "If Piccolo or Kami die to the androids, then the Dragon Balls would be lost anyway. I would rather we have an advantage on our side if we are to lose them." Her practical assessment earned understanding nods from both men.
"If Piccolo really does intend to become one again, he must feel like there's no other way to win," Krillin said. "He can't stand Kami, that's how desperate things are looking right now."
The statement brought Cellera back to their battle against Garlic Jr. years ago. She remembered vividly how Piccolo's contempt for Kami had radiated from every word and gesture, his decision to save Earth's guardian stemming solely from their linked existence. Now, facing an even greater threat, he was willing to permanently merge with someone he despised.
This choice only reinforced what she'd been trying to tell them about Piccolo's evolution. The Piccolo who once sought world domination was now preparing to sacrifice his separate identity and cast aside his hatred, all to protect the very world he'd once wanted to conquer. It was perhaps the strongest proof yet of how far he'd come from his villainous origins.
Finally breaking his contemplative silence, Trunks turned to his sister. "What do you think father plans to do?"
Cellera's gaze remained fixed on the horizon where Vegeta had disappeared. "Father isn't the sort to run when he's been bested." She turned to meet Trunks' eyes, her expression softening. "You asked earlier what good is his pride if he winds up dead. It seems my future self has never informed you much about father."
Trunks shook his head slowly. "You've mentioned that he could be prideful, arrogant and strong, but I didn't think it would extend to this degree. And..." His face took on a somber cast that reminded her so much of Bulma in serious moments. "It looked like it hurt too much for you to talk about anything related to him, so I never pushed for details."
The words struck deep, making Cellera's heart ache for her future counterpart. Yet she couldn't help but smile at how much Trunks had inherited from his mother - that same gentle consideration that had allowed Bulma to give Cellera the space to open up in her own time.
"Well then, allow me to tell you." She straightened, her posture shifting to embody the Saiyan pride she spoke of. "Father thinks way too much of himself, he's the embodiment of pride, and it is often his downfall."
Trunks let out a knowing huff of laughter that clearly said 'you think?'
"However," she continued, her voice taking on a deeper resonance, "that same pride is what gives him strength. Our Saiyan Pride is ultimately our reason to push us to keep getting stronger. Though mine may differ from father's, he respects it all the same. It is one of the most valuable lessons that he has taught me."
Trunks absorbed her words, beginning to understand what had driven both versions of his sister. The Cellera before him and the one he knew in his timeline shared that same core strength - a pride not in dominance, but in never abandoning those who needed protection. Perhaps that was the kind of Saiyan pride he could embrace as well - not their father's need to be the strongest, but this unwavering determination to protect what mattered.
"We should head to Kakarot's house," Cellera said, turning to address the group. "The androids may be treating this like a game, but we can't afford to take chances with his safety."
"Right," Krillin agreed. "The sooner we get him somewhere secure, the better."
As they took to the air, Trunks found himself watching his sister's determined profile. For the first time, he truly understood the foundation of the strength that had helped his timeline's Cellera endure against the androids for so long. It wasn't just about power - it was about having something worth fighting for, and the pride to never give up on protecting it.