Timeline 7 – Namekian Ascension
Here, the Namekians faced existential threats early on and responded by fusing their strongest warriors into Gast, a singular entity representing the collective strength of all Namekians. Gast achieved unimaginable power.
The celestial projection above Daishinkan shimmered from black to deep emerald, the color of living Namekian blood.His voice resonated across every corner of the multiverse — calm, solemn, almost reverent.
"Timeline Seven… A world that was born from extinction — and survived through unity."
The vision expanded outward, revealing a dying Namek beneath twin suns.Volcanoes cracked the planet's surface, seas boiled, and the stars above burned crimson.This was not the tranquil Namek known to most; this was a planet that had suffered centuries of invasion and natural decay.
Long before Frieza's empire reached them, Namek had been attacked by a cosmic plague — a virus that fed not on flesh, but on life energy itself.Villages withered.Warriors lost their strength.Even the Grand Elder succumbed, his heart heavy with the knowledge that his kind would not survive another century.
In desperation, the surviving Elders made a choice that defied every moral code their ancestors left behind.They called upon the Ritual of the Infinite Merge — a forbidden technique that would fuse not just two Namekians, but entire generations, their bodies, minds, and souls condensed into one.
The cost was identity.The reward was survival.
The vision showed the merging — thousands of Namekians dissolving into a single column of light that split the heavens, green lightning flashing across the planet.
When the light faded, there stood a single being — tall, calm, and impossibly powerful.His aura pulsed like the rhythm of the planet's heartbeat itself.
"They named him Gast — The Final Namekian."
Daishinkan's tone deepened.
"Gast was not merely a fusion of power — he was a fusion of will. He carried the dreams, memories, and vengeance of every Namekian who had ever lived."
At first, Gast tried to rebuild.He restored oceans, created new dragon balls, and reshaped the dead soil of Namek.But peace would not last.Power draws power — and predators.
Frieza's forces, sensing a massive surge of ki, descended upon Namek again.The result was a massacre, but not of Namekians.
The projection showed Gast raising his hand, and a fleet of thousands simply stopped.Their ships hung in the air, caught in invisible gravity, before being crushed into silver dust.He did not blink.
Over time, his strength grew far beyond mortal comprehension.He learned to split and reabsorb himself infinitely — creating copies that scoured the galaxy for knowledge, then returning them to his core to integrate their experiences.He absorbed science, divine energy, even fragments of ancient magic once used by the Kais.
"Gast became what his people never were allowed to be," Daishinkan said."A civilization of one."
When the Supreme Kai of his universe descended to reason with him — to warn him that his continued merging of divine and mortal energies could collapse reality — Gast did not fight.He only asked one question:
"If creation demands destruction, then who destroys the destroyer?"
The Kai had no answer.
Moments later, he found himself on his knees, powerless, as Gast released him unharmed — proof that mercy still lingered in the heart of the last Namekian.
Gast then retreated into meditation for centuries.He watched the rise and fall of entire species, learning patience beyond even divine understanding.He did not age.He simply… became.
"When the call of this tournament reached across timelines," Daishinkan narrated, "Gast heard it as the voice of destiny. A chance for balance."
The image focused on the arena.Gast stood silently at his bench, arms folded, his expression unreadable.His aura was faint — yet even faint, it distorted the air around him like heat rising off molten stone.
Across the stands, Piccolo from Timeline 1 stared at him, jaw tight, his instincts torn between admiration and dread.
"He carries the soul of a thousand Namekians," Daishinkan concluded."To defeat him is to overcome unity itself. To face him is to challenge the weight of an entire civilization's will."
The emerald light of the Namekians faded — replaced by a deep gold and violet radiance, pulsing like the glare of dying stars.
Daishinkan raised one hand, and the projection above the stage flared to life.Worlds burned in its glow — fleets stretching across galaxies, banners bearing the sigil of Frieza's Empire glimmering under the void.
His voice carried the cold weight of a history carved in conquest.
"Timeline Eight… a universe where death was denied, and ambition became infinite."
The image opened on Planet Namek, frozen in time at the moment of Frieza's defeat.But here, the end was different.In this branch of reality, Goku never finished the fight.The Super Saiyan's mercy — his greatest strength — became the seed of his universe's doom.
Frieza survived, barely alive, dragged from the ashes by King Cold himself.He was repaired, reconstructed — not with technology, but with an ancient divine core stolen from a fallen god of destruction.It gave him not just life, but potential — the one thing Frieza had always feared he lacked.
His recovery was long, but his rage infinite.He swore that no Saiyan, no mortal, no god would ever stand above him again.
The holographic vision expanded — revealing Frieza's private training chamber, a world-sized arena in the void, where he and his kin shattered suns for practice.King Cold's booming laughter echoed as he guided his sons — Cooler, Frieza, and the newly born Shun, the youngest heir engineered to surpass them all.
"Together," Daishinkan intoned, "the Cold Dynasty forged perfection through evolution."
It took Years.But under King Cold's cruel tutelage, the family of tyrants achieved what the gods once thought impossible — a collective transformation.Not one, not two — but four Golden Lights erupted across the universe, each unique, each terrible.
Frieza's was the purest: molten gold trimmed in violet, his aura a corona of hate so dense it warped the light around him.Cooler's shimmered a pale white-gold, colder than frost, his energy sharp as blades.King Cold's glowed a deep, royal amber — slower, heavier, yet commanding the gravity of a star.And Shun — the youngest — bore platinum skin and blue fire, a fusion of every genetic trait perfected through generations.
Under their rule, the Frieza Force became something far greater than an army.It became a religion.Entire civilizations worshiped them as living deities, offering planets as sacrifices.
"They called this age," Daishinkan continued, "The Golden Era of the Cold Empire."
But there remained a single shadow — the legend of the Saiyan race.The Cold family could not stand the idea that somewhere, in another galaxy, there existed mortals who had once defied them.
They sent their fleets.Thousands of Saiyans — remnants scattered across conquered worlds — fell screaming into the void.But not all were destroyed.
A few, led by a grizzled warrior named Taro, resisted until their final breath, and in doing so, they left behind a curse — a prophecy whispered through the last survivors of the resistance:
"The Golden Sun will set in the shadow of its own reflection."
Frieza laughed at it.Cooler dismissed it.But King Cold, flooked troubled.
Over time, the Empire began to fracture under its own perfection.King Cold grew wary of his sons' ambition, and they of his.Frieza and Cooler began secret wars of succession — erasing each other's territories, destroying moons and fleets just to prove dominance.
The youngest, Shun, watched.
The projection faded into the arena itself, focusing on the current champion of that timeline — Zarbon, standing in silence, his aura glimmering faintly gold-green, and beside him, Cooler's resurrected form, his face calm but haunted.
Daishinkan's voice grew quiet.
"They come from a reality where strength is not emotion — it is order. Where evolution never stops, and mercy is the greatest heresy."
He looked to the benches.Timeline 8's warriors sat straight-backed, disciplined, emotionless — the reflection of the empire they served.
"To face them," Daishinkan finished, "is to face the perfection of tyranny."
Perfect — this timeline is one of the most fascinating in your multiverse because it flips Dragon Ball's foundation on its head.
Here's the full Timeline 9 – Earth's Human Heroes story as if Daishinkan himself were presenting it on the tournament's grand stage, projected across the arena for all timelines to witness — cinematic, detailed, grounded, and emotionally rich:
🌍 Timeline 9 – Earth's Human Heroes
Daishinkan's voice carried through the cosmic hush.
"Timeline Nine… a world where the legend of the Saiyan never began."
The image on the crystal dome showed a small, quiet mountain home.
A young Grandpa Gohan knelt beside a small crater where a capsule had once landed.
In his arms — the faint outline of a crying Saiyan infant.
Then — a slip, a rock, a tragic fall.
The scene cut to black.
A life ended before its story began.
Goku never grew up. There was no hero from the stars.
The Grand Priest continued:
"With Son Goku's passing before his journey began, Earth never knew the salvation of divine blood. The gods did not intervene. The Saiyans never came. And so—humans stood alone."
The Rise of Humanity
The vision changed — flashes of Roshi's island under stormy skies.
Thunder rolled as Roshi, now far beyond his centuries, meditated before the ocean.
In this world, he had not stopped training after the tournaments.
The death of his pupil Goku ignited something fierce inside him — guilt turned into obsession.
He began gathering every human capable of fighting.
Tien, Yamcha, Krillin, Chiaotzu, Yajirobe, Videl, and even Bulma in her later years — all of them joined the new School of the Turtle God.
No gods came to guide them.
No aliens descended to test them.
But war still found them.
Piccolo Daimaō emerged, then King Cold's remnants, then Dr. Gero's early machines.
Each time, humanity stood taller.
They fell — again and again — and each fall bred innovation.
Bulma reverse-engineered alien tech scavenged from old Red Ribbon remnants.
She discovered early methods to enhance ki flow using artificial gravity fields.
Tien refined the Kaioken after finding King Kai's old transmissions drifting through the cosmos, learning it through sheer calculation and replication.
He taught it to all humans — making Earth's warriors the first race to wield divine exertion by intellect alone.
The crystal projection flared — scenes of Tien under a burning red sky, body cracking, screaming as his Kaioken surpassed even Goku's legendary usage.
Next to him, Krillin meditated inside a gravity sphere, his aura flickering like lightning.
Master Roshi, blind from age but godlike in ki control, oversaw their evolution.
By the age of 400, Roshi had abandoned his mortal limits entirely, calling it Human Ascension.
Daishinkan spoke softly, almost reverently.
"Without Saiyans, The universe paid no attention."
Images flooded the air — the Earth enveloped by shields of blue ki as alien fleets attacked.
Armies of humans, each glowing like miniature suns, fighting together.
Krillin alone destroyed a meteor the size of the moon.
Yamcha split oceans with a single punch.
And Tien — the most disciplined of them all — achieved what no mortal had done:
a Two-Hundredfold Kaioken stabilized by meditation and human biology.
The crowd from other timelines murmured, stunned.
Even Beerus's ears twitched.
A universe without Saiyans, and yet these mortals had touched divine exertion.
The Turtle Empire
The scene shifted again.
An enormous temple now stood where Kame House once had been — the Turtle Empire, a new spiritual order.
Roshi, now called The Immortal Prime, sat atop the central tower, surrounded by disciples.
Every human learned to channel ki since birth.
The world had unified under martial philosophy rather than politics or greed.
And when intergalactic threats finally discovered this planet, they found not prey — but predators in meditation.
One by one, alien conquerors fell.
The Namekians who tried to harvest the Dragon Balls were defeated by Krillin and Tien.
Frieza's empire—without Goku or Vegeta to destroy him—eventually collapsed at the hands of Roshi's Students, who broke his fleet with combined Kaioken bursts from orbit.
But not all was peace.
Daishinkan's tone darkened.
"Strength breeds vanity. Even unity breeds pride."
Scenes shifted to a future Earth scorched by red light — humans warring with one another.
After the gods finally took notice, they saw a civilization that had conquered mortality itself.
Humans could extend life indefinitely, replace limbs, control ki through machines.
But without external balance — without Saiyans or divine intervention — their hearts grew colder.
Tien vanished into the desert, refusing leadership.
Krillin founded a new school: The Path of Mercy, focused on restraint.
But others, like Yajirobe's line, turned martial skill into tyranny.
The world fractured — yet none dared destroy it fully.
Every warrior knew that extinction would erase their honor.
The image returned to the tournament's present era.
Tien Shinhan of this age meditated beneath a burning sun, his aura a mix of crimson and gold — Kaioken refined through centuries of study.
Beside him, Yamcha laughed before a match, more warrior-poet than brawler.
Krillin — bald, calm, and focused — carried the dignity of his master Roshi.
And Roshi himself, Prime Roshi, walked among them not as a relic — but as the first immortal of pure human blood, his body younger than it had been in centuries.
Their power now rivaled Saiyans, their discipline unmatched.
And their unity — the bond of mortals who had raised themselves through will alone — was the purest ki any angel had ever witnessed.
The lights returned to the arena, leaving silence in their wake.
Across the benches, reactions were mixed.
Vegito from Timeline 2 leaned forward, eyes narrow.
"A world without Saiyans that still reached that tier power. That's… unsettling."
Goku from Timeline 1 grinned proudly.
"Heh. So humans can go that far, huh? That's awesome!"
Piccolo folded his arms.
"It means something bigger — power doesn't come from lineage. It comes from one' self worth."
From the stands, Beerus muttered with mild irritation, "Mortals like that ruin the hierarchy…"