KAME House
The ocean is a mirror, its surface so still it could be glass. The horizon bleeds from black to gold as the first light of dawn touches the water. The air smells of salt and damp earth, the kind of quiet that only exists in the moments before the world wakes.
Miru stands barefoot on the sand, his toes sinking slightly into the cool grains. His eyes are closed, his breathing slow and deliberate.
The weight of his body feels different today, lighter, yet more grounded, as if the very air is pressing him into the earth, testing his balance.
Across from him, Master Roshi stands with his staff planted firmly into the sand, the wood worn smooth by decades of use. His sunglasses reflect the rising sun, the lenses hiding the sharp calculation in his eyes. He doesn't move, doesn't fidget. He simply is, a presence as unshakable as the tide.
From a distant cliff, half-hidden by the morning mist, Dura watches. His arms are folded, but his posture is deliberate, his presence suppressed to the point of near-invisibility. He doesn't want to distract. Today isn't about power. It's about precision, about the kind of control that turns raw strength into something useful.
Roshi's voice cuts through the silence, calm but carrying the weight of a man who has spent a lifetime perfecting the art of war without ever raising his voice.
"You've learned to suppress your base."
Miru doesn't open his eyes. He doesn't need to. He can feel the truth in the words, the way his body has changed over the past weeks. The Legendary bloodline inside him no longer burns like a wildfire. It hums, low and steady, like a sword resting in its sheath.
"Now you'll learn to open the gate without breaking the door."
Miru nods, his jaw tightening slightly. He knows what this means. The next step isn't just about unlocking more power, it's about controlling it. Mastering the very thing that has defined his father's battles, his father's rage.
Roshi raises one finger, the gesture simple but absolute.
"One percent."
Miru blinks, his dark lashes lifting for the first time since he closed his eyes.
"Of… my transformation?"
Roshi doesn't answer immediately. The waves lap at the shore, the sound rhythmic, almost hypnotic.
"Yes."
Miru's mind races. His stabilized combat peak, the controlled amplification he had brushed against in battle, had touched the low trillions. One percent of that,
Still monstrous.
Roshi taps the ground with his staff, the sound sharp in the quiet.
"You will not exceed it. Not even slightly."
The words hang in the air, a challenge and a warning.
Roshi's voice hardens, just a fraction, but enough to make it clear: this is not a request.
"No aura flare beyond visible outline. No shockwaves. No environmental damage. No emotional spike. No loss of eye focus."
He pauses, letting the weight of the conditions settle.
"If you fail... "
Miru already knows. He's felt the sting of Roshi's staff enough times to understand the consequences.
"I'll strike you."
Miru exhales, the breath steady. He understands. This isn't just training. It's a test of will.
Miru inhales, the air filling his lungs like liquid. He slows his heart rate, feeling the steady thump-thump of his pulse as it aligns with the rhythm of the ocean.
He reaches inward, not for the Legendary power that has defined his father's battles, but for the control of it.
He finds the bloodline, that roaring river of energy that has always felt like a storm waiting to break. But today, he doesn't let it surge. He cracks it open, just a hairline fracture, like turning a valve ever so slightly.
A faint emerald glow traces along his shoulders, so subtle it's almost invisible. His hair shifts, darkening just a shade, the strands thickening as if preparing for a storm that never comes. His muscles tighten, not the wild, uncontrollable swelling of before, but a controlled density, like steel being forged.
Power rises. Not in a rush, but in a climb, each step deliberate.
Base: 9.8 Billion
Legendary output ceiling (previous combat): ~12–15 Trillion
1% of 12 Trillion = 120 Billion
His energy climbs:
10B → 30B → 60B → 95B → 118B
It stops. Holds.
A thin emerald aura outlines him, no thicker than heat haze on a summer's day. The sand beneath his feet does not move. The ocean does not ripple. The air doesn't even stir.
Roshi's lips curl, just slightly. The approval is silent but unmistakable.
"Good. Maintain it."
Miru steps forward, his movements slower than his full power would allow, but cleaner. There's no wasted motion, no unnecessary force. He punches, his fist cutting through the air with the precision of a blade. No wind bursts. No pressure waves. Just a straight, controlled strike.
Roshi shifts his torso two inches to the left. His movement is minimal, almost lazy, but his staff redirects Miru's wrist with a tap that sends a jolt up Miru's arm. The force isn't in the strength of the block, but in the timing.
Miru pivots immediately, his body moving like a coiled spring. Second strike, low. Roshi hops lightly, his feet barely disturbing the sand. He counters with a tap of his staff to Miru's ribs.
The contact is light, but the intent is clear: You're still telegraping.
Miru absorbs it without losing control. His aura doesn't flicker. His breathing doesn't hitch.
Power reading remains: ~120 Billion
Stable. No spike.
Roshi suddenly accelerates. Not with power, with technique. His body moves in a blur, not from speed, but from the sheer efficiency of his movements. He appears at Miru's blind spot, his staff already arcing toward Miru's side.
Miru's instincts scream at him to surge.
His bloodline, that wild, untamed thing inside him, wants to jump from 1% to 15%, to drown the threat in power. He feels it clawing upward, the emerald aura thickening as his body begs for release.
Roshi's voice cuts through the tension, sharp as a blade.
"Control is proven when pressured!"
Miru exhales sharply, the breath a weapon against his own instincts. He forces the surge down, his will a vise around the rising power. The aura dims, just slightly.
110B
Then stabilizes again at 120B.
He turns, his body moving on pure reflex, and blocks Roshi's staff cleanly. The contact is solid, but his power doesn't spike. His focus doesn't waver.
First time.
Something changes.
Before, activating the Legendary form had felt like opening floodgates, an uncontrollable rush that threatened to drown him.
But now
It feels like turning a dial. Small. Precise. Controlled.
His muscles don't swell uncontrollably. His breathing remains steady. His eyes stay clear, the gold in them bright but focused.
The bloodline doesn't roar. It hums.
Roshi doesn't let up. He throws a rapid 12-strike combination, each hit aimed at joints and pressure points, each strike designed to provoke a reaction. Miru dodges eight. Blocks three. Takes one glancing strike to the shoulder.
But he never spikes power. Never loses the 1% control.
Roshi steps back, his staff lowering to the sand. His smile is wide, genuine.
"There it is."
Miru lowers his stance, his aura still faint, still stable. The tension in his body eases, but his mind is sharper than ever.
For the first time, Miru feels the Legendary energy responding not to emotion, not to rage, but to discipline. It's not about amplification. It's about calibration.
He whispers, the words barely audible over the sound of the waves:
"It listens…"
Roshi nods, his expression knowing.
"Power always listens. It's the ego that doesn't."
From the cliff, Dura senses it. Miru's ki signature has changed texture. Before, it had been wild under pressure, a storm that threatened to break free. Now, it's layered. Compressed. Sharp.
Dura's lips curl, just slightly. If Miru can scale his Legendary output by percentage, if he can control it, rather than be controlled by it
He'll never lose himself.
And unlike Dura..
He won't need rage to climb in strength..
Miru powers down. There's no backlash. No exhaustion. No emotional crash. That alone proves the growth.
Roshi adjusts his glasses, the lenses glinting in the rising sun.
"Tomorrow we try five percent."
Miru blinks, his surprise evident.
"Five?!"
Roshi grins, the expression full of mischief.
"Heh. You wanted your own path."
CURRENT STATUS
Miru
- Base: 9.8 Billion
- Legendary Control:
- 1% Output = ~120 Billion (Stable)
- Emotional Surge Resistance: Greatly Increased
- Energy Leakage: Nearly Eliminated
Roshi
- Power Level: 1,000,000
- Martial Mastery: Still terrifying
The Legendary bloodline is no longer a beast.
It's becoming a blade.
Elsewhere in Deep Space ..
The void is silent. Not the quiet of peace, but the absence of life, of hope. A dying star system hangs in the distance, its planets stripped to husks, their surfaces scarred and lifeless. At the center of the devastation stands the Tree of Might, its roots piercing a shattered world like the claws of a beast, its branches blotting out the light of the stars.
And beneath it
Three Saiyans stand, their forms wreathed in the eerie glow of the tree's unnatural fruit. They are not the men they once were. Years of gluttonous ascension have reshaped them, their bodies hardened by the harvest of countless worlds.
Vegeta.
Nappa.
Turles.
They have not simply eaten the fruit.
They have cultivated it. Repeatedly. Planet after planet. Each harvest stripping another solar system of its life, its energy, its potential.
BASE POWER EVOLUTION
The Fruit of the Tree of Might doesn't just enhance, it rewrites. It amplifies raw genetic potential, not through transformations, but through base structure.
After years of systematic cultivation:
- Vegeta (Evil, hardened, unredeemed)
- Base: 62 Billion
- Cold. Focused. Merciless.
- Turles
- Base: 41 Billion
- Strategic. Patient. Always watching.
- Nappa
- Base: 28 Billion
- Brutal. Heavy. Direct.
They no longer need Super Saiyan to dominate most worlds. Their base alone is catastrophic.
This Vegeta never softened. Never formed bonds strong enough to dilute his pride. Never embraced Earth as home. To him...
Power is purity.
And Earth… is just unfinished business.
He crushes the last remaining fruit in his palm, absorbing its energy without flinching. The veins in his arms pulse with dark energy, his eyes narrowing as he senses something, someone, in the distance.
"The next harvest will be on a stronger world."
Turles smirks, his gaze sharp.
"You've sensed it too."
Vegeta's eyes darken, the gold in them burning like embers.
"Yes."
A distant ki signature. Massive. Refined and Legendary.
Dura.
...
Back on EARTH
KAME HOUSE SHORELINE
Miru stands waist-deep in the ocean, the water lapping at his hips as he practices balance under Roshi's instruction. The sun is higher now, the light glinting off the waves like scattered diamonds.
Suddenly
All three freeze.
A violent distortion ripples through the upper atmosphere, a tear in the sky itself. The air vibrates, the very fabric of reality groaning under the strain.
Dura looks to the sky from his mountain perch, his body tensing. He feels it instantly, Saiyan energy. But darker. Sharper. Cultivated.
Three pods tear through the sky, their descent controlled, precise. They do not crash. They land, their impact sending tremors through the earth. The ground splits beneath them, smoke curling into the air as the dust settles.
Vegeta steps out first. His armor is darker, his cape torn, his eyes colder than Dura has ever seen them. He scans the planet, his smirk faint but dangerous.
"Still weak hm! ."
Turles exits his pod calmly, his gaze sweeping across the landscape. He senses multiple high-level signatures immediately.
His smirk fades, just slightly.
"No… not weak."
Nappa steps out last, cracking his neck, his grin wide and cruel.
"Finally. Something worth breaking."
Across the ocean, Miru feels it. Three massive base signatures. No transformation. No aura flare. Just raw density, like the weight of a mountain pressing down on the world.
Miru's voice is a whisper, his eyes narrowing.
"They're not suppressing…"
Roshi adjusts his glasses, his expression unreadable.
"Hmph."
From the cliff, Dura stands upright, his presence no longer suppressed. He senses Vegeta specifically, 62 Billion in base. Years of unnatural growth. But it's tainted growth. Not trained. Not refined.
Vegeta Speaks,
His voice echoes across the shoreline, carrying the weight of a man who has spent a lifetime conquering and has yet to find a challenge worthy of his saiyan might... .
"Come on out, disloyal Saiyan ."
He's speaking to Dura without naming him. His gaze is locked, unblinking.
"Show yourself."
The air vibrates with the tension. Dura steps forward into the open sky, his movements fluid, unhurried. Their eyes meet across miles in an instant, no words needed.
Two Saiyans measuring each other, lineage to lineage, strength to strength.
Vegeta's scouter activates briefly, then sparks and shatters. It cannot quantify Dura's suppressed depth. Vegeta smirks anyway, his confidence unshaken.
"Good."
Turles tilts his head, his eyes sharp as he studies Dura's energy. It's not just strong, it's layered, like the rings of a tree, each one a testament to battles survived, limits pushed.
"His energy structure is different… it's layered."
He senses Miru too, smaller, but sharp and dangerous in a way that has nothing to do with raw power.
"Interesting family you've got here."
Nappa laughs loudly, the sound booming across the water.
"Doesn't matter. We'll plant the tree. Drain the planet and Move on."
Vegeta doesn't answer immediately. His gaze remains locked on Dura. He can feel something deeper, something beyond base, something he wants.
Dura lands calmly between them and the forest inland, his presence a wall of controlled power. His base is suppressed to 38.5 Billion, lower than Vegeta's 62 Billion, but stable. Dense. Like a blade sheathed in silence.
He looks at Vegeta, his expression unreadable. Not hostile. Not intimidated. Certain.
"You've been eating shortcuts."
Vegeta's eye twitches, just slightly. The insult is worse than any blow.
"And you've been holding back."
The air between them thickens, the tension coiling like a serpent. Turles smiles, his voice smooth.
"Oh, this will be entertaining."
Miru steps beside his dad, his stance ready, his aura flickering with controlled emerald light. Roshi remains behind, watching, his staff planted firmly in the sand.
Goku and the others begin sensing the disturbance from afar, their ki flaring in recognition. The atmosphere changes. Not like Frieza's tyranny. Not like Cell's terror. This is Saiyan ambition. Unrestrained. Evil.
CURRENT POWER COMPARISON
- Vegeta (Evil, Fruit-Enhanced Base): 62 Billion
- Turles: 41 Billion
- Nappa: 28 Billion
- Dura (Suppressed Base): 38.5 Billion
- Miru (Base): 9.8 Billion
- Roshi: 1 Million
Vegeta floats higher, his cape fluttering in the wind, his voice dripping with arrogance.
"Let's see if Earth finally has something worth conquering."
The sky darkens slightly, the clouds swirling as if sensing the storm to come.
The wind whips across the ocean, carrying the scent of salt and the weight of impending battle. Four Saiyans stand facing each other, the air between them crackling with restrained power.
Vegeta. Turles. Nappa.
Dura and Miru.
The tension is a living thing, pressing down on them all.
Then
A sudden burst of familiar energy cuts across the sky, bright and pure and excited. The air shimmers,
Instant Transmission flash
And Son Goku appears between both sides, his grin wide, his posture relaxed.
For a moment, he looks around casually, as if he's just dropped in on a friendly sparring match.
"Whoa… that's a lot of Saiyan energy all at once"
He stops mid-sentence.
His eyes lock onto Turles.
Same hair. Same facial structure. Same build.
A darker reflection.
Goku blinks, his grin faltering for the first time.
"Uh… okay, that's new."
Turles smirks slowly, his voice smooth, his gaze sharp.
"So this is the low-class warrior who looks like me."
Nappa snorts, the sound rough and amused.
Vegeta crosses his arms, his smirk faint but cold.
"You're staring, Kakarot."
Goku scratches his cheek awkwardly, his usual easygoing demeanor faltering under the weight of the moment.
"Heh… sorry. You just kinda look like me."
Turles' smirk sharpens, his voice dripping with disdain.
"Don't compare us. I never hit my head."
The shoreline goes silent for a beat. Goku's smile fades, just slightly. Not anger. Recognition.
He senses it clearly now. Their ki isn't just strong, it's cruel. Predatory. Heavy with the weight of planetary destruction.
He exhales slowly, his voice serious.
"Yeah… you guys aren't here to talk, are you?"
TYPICAL SAIYAN STANDOFF DIALOGUE MODE ACTIVATED
Vegeta floats upward slightly, his cape fluttering in the wind, his voice dripping with the confidence of a man who has never known defeat.
"Kakarot. You've grown."
Goku grins, his usual easygoing nature returning despite the tension.
"Heh. You could say that."
Vegeta's shattered scouter fragment falls from his armor and dissolves in the air. He doesn't need numbers to know Goku is stronger than before. His smirk is sharp, his voice mocking.
"I don't need numbers to know you're stronger than before."
Turles steps forward, his gaze sweeping over the group, his voice smooth.
"We've spent years harvesting strength."
Nappa cracks his knuckles loudly, the sound echoing like thunder.
"Whole star systems drained."
Miru's jaw tightens, his fists clenching at his sides. Dura remains calm, his presence a wall of controlled power. Goku looks at the trio, his expression serious now, the weight of the moment pressing down on him.
"You destroyed planets… just to grow stronger?"
Turles tilts his head, his smirk never wavering.
"Isn't that what Saiyans do?"
Vegeta's voice is cold, his gaze locked on Goku.
"Or have you forgotten your blood?"
Goku's eyes narrow, but he doesn't flare his aura. His voice is steady, his resolve unshaken.
"Strength's only fun if you earn it."
Vegeta laughs once, the sound sharp and mocking.
"Spoken like someone who never understood conquest."
POWER READINGS EXCHANGED
Goku focuses briefly, his senses stretching out. He feels them clearly now:
- Vegeta: 62 Billion (Base)
- Turles: 41 Billion
- Nappa: 28 Billion
He whistles lightly, his tone almost impressed.
"Wow. You've been busy."
Then he glances sideways at Dura, his eyes widening slightly as he senses the depth beneath the surface. Dura's suppressed 38.5 Billion base is just the beginning. There's something more—something layered, something massive lurking beneath the calm.
He doesn't comment. But he knows.
TURLES VS. GOKU MOMENT
Turles floats directly in front of Goku, their forms nearly identical in silhouette, their auras flickering with dark energy. Turles' voice is smooth, his gaze sharp.
"I wonder… which of us represents Saiyan potential better."
Goku smiles slightly, his usual confidence returning.
"Probably the one who doesn't need a magic tree."
Turles' aura flickers dark green briefly, his smirk faltering for the first time. Nappa laughs loudly, the sound booming across the water.
"He's got jokes!"
VEGETA VS. DURA — SILENT EXCHANGE
Meanwhile, Vegeta's eyes never leave Dura. He can feel it—the depth, the control, the potential lurking beneath the surface. Dura isn't impressed. Isn't intimidated. Isn't excited. Just steady.
That bothers Vegeta more than any insult could.
"You're holding back."
Dura's voice is even, his gaze unblinking.
"You're overcompensating."
Nappa bursts out laughing, the sound rough and amused. Turles smirks, his eyes sharp. Vegeta's eye twitches, his jaw tightening.
ROSHI ARRIVES (WALKING CALMLY)
From behind the group, Master Roshi walks forward slowly, his staff tapping against the sand, his presence calm amidst the storm.
"So loud this early in the morning…"
Nappa glances at him and laughs, the sound rough and mocking.
"What's the fossil doing here?"
Roshi adjusts his glasses, his voice dry.
"Watching."
His power reads only 1,000,000—a drop in the bucket compared to the Saiyans around him. But Vegeta ignores him entirely, his gaze locked on Dura, his mind already calculating the battle to come.
ESCALATION DIALOGUE
Goku stretches his neck casually, his voice light despite the tension.
"So what's the plan? You guys gonna blow something up to make a point?"
Turles smiles thinly, his voice smooth.
"We're planting the Tree of Might here."
Miru steps forward instantly, his voice sharp, his aura flickering with controlled emerald light.
"Over my dead body."
Nappa grins wide, his laughter booming.
"That can be arranged."
Vegeta raises a hand slightly, silencing Nappa with a gesture. His gaze sweeps over the group, his voice cold.
"We'll give you a choice."
The wind stills. The air hums with the weight of the moment.
"Kneel. Join us. Rule properly."
Silence.
Goku bursts out laughing, the sound breaking the tension for a moment. Miru looks offended. Dura doesn't react at all.
Vegeta's smirk fades, his eyes narrowing. He senses the truth in Dura's silence—the resolve. The air hums with rising ki from both sides. Ocean waves begin to surge. Clouds spiral overhead.
Typical pre-fight energy storm.
POWER STATUS BEFORE FIRST STRIKE
- Vegeta: 62 Billion (Base)
- Turles: 41 Billion
- Nappa: 28 Billion
- Dura: 38.5 Billion (Suppressed)
- Miru: 9.8 Billion
- Goku: Suppressed but far beyond visible range
- Roshi: 1 Million
The battlefield is set.
Saiyan pride vs. Saiyan evolution.
And this time,
There are no aliens to blame.
Just blood.
The sky over Earth trembled with violent ki.
Cracks of green lightning split the clouds as Nappa stepped forward, veins bulging, a cruel grin spreading across his scarred face.
"Pathetic planet," he sneered. "I'll start by killing the old man."
His aura exploded outward, crushing trees and splitting the ground. Civilians miles away felt the pressure, their bones aching under the weight of his power.
At the edge of the battlefield, Master Roshi adjusted his sunglasses calmly, the lenses reflecting the storm of energy swirling around them. He didn't flinch. Didn't move. Just watched, his staff planted firmly in the sand.
"Old fossil!" Nappa roared, his voice a thunderclap. "You reek of weakness!"
He vanished in a blur of speed, the air detonating where he had been standing. In the next instant, he reappeared above Roshi, his fist raised high, his energy flaring bright violet, the light casting eerie shadows across the battlefield.
"DIE!" Nappa shouted..
The punch descended like a meteor, the force of it sending shockwaves blasting outward, tearing up the earth beneath them.
Roshi simply sighed, his voice calm, almost amused.
"Impatience is the first flaw of a brute."
At the last possible instant,
He sidestepped.
Not with speed but with precision and timing, His body moved like a leaf on the wind, effortless, exact.
Nappa's fist cratered the earth, the impact sending shockwaves blasting outward, the ground trembling beneath them.
Before Nappa could recover,
Roshi tapped two fingers against his back, sending him stumbling forward, his body off balance...
Nappa felt i then,
A cold realization.
This wasn't a weak old man.
Roshi then leapt backward, his movements fluid, his shirt tearing away as his muscles tightened beneath the fabric.
The wind changed direction, swirling around him as if answering his call. The air spiraled, the very world bending to his will.
Green energy began circling his body in violent currents, the power of it pulling at the fabric of reality itself.
Goku's eyes widened, his voice sharp with surprise.
"Wait, Master Roshi… you're not.. !"
Roshi's voice became sharp and commanding, the words carrying the weight of a man who had spent a lifetime mastering the art of control.
"EVIL CONTAINMENT WAVE!"
The sky twisted into a cyclone of emerald light. The ground tore upward into spiraling debris as the vortex locked onto Nappa, the energy bending around him like a river caught in a whirlpool.
Nappa tried to power up, his base, after years of Tree of Might fruit, having risen dramatically.
Nappa (Base Power): 28,000,000,000
He roared, his aura flaring as he fought against the pull of the technique.
"What is this?! MOVE!!"
But the migic, spiral energy bent his ki like a river caught in a storm. The Mafuba doesn't overpower. It seals. And Roshi,
This version of Roshi, the man who had spent years training in secret, refining his craft
Master Roshi (Battle Power): 1,000,000 Perfect Ki Control
The technique wasn't about raw strength. It was about mastery over energy and flow..
Nappa's body twisted unnaturally as the green funnel compressed him, his limbs contorting as he was pulled into the spiraling beam of light.
"VEGETAAAAAA!!"
FWOOOOM..
He was sucked into a small reinforced capsule Roshi had prepared in advance, the lid snapping shut with a finality that echoed across the battlefield.
Silence fell.
Vegeta's eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening as he stared at the capsule, his mind racing. Turles' smirk faded, his gaze locked on Roshi, a newfound respect flickering in his eyes.
Goku blinked, his surprise evident. Dura watched with quiet approval, his arms folded, his expression unreadable.
Miru's jaw dropped, his voice barely a whisper.
"That… that wasn't even a transformation…"
Roshi exhaled slowly, his muscles relaxing as the technique completed. He calmly picked up the capsule, the weight of it nothing in his hands. Inside, Nappa's enraged voice pounded against the seal, useless.
"Power without discipline is like a sword without a handle. It only harms the wielder."
The remaining fighters flared the ki at different intervals in reaction to nappa being sealed away...
Advance Scouters beeped wildly, the numbers flashing across the screens of the remaining Saiyans.
- Goku (Current Base): 60,000,000,000
- Dura : 38,500,000,000
- Miru : 18,000,000,000
Vegeta crushed his scouter slowly, the device shattering in his grip, his voice cold.
"…Interesting."
Turles stared at Goku, his gaze sharp, his voice mocking but tinged with something new, curiosity.
"So that's the low-class duplicate."
Goku stretched his arms casually, his grin returning, his confidence unshaken.
"Heh. You guys picked the wrong planet."
Vegeta then spoke up, his voice was cold, his gaze locked on Roshi, then shifting to Dura, his words carrying the weight of a man who had never known defeat.
"You sealed my soldier,now...You've turned this.... into a war."
Dura stepped forward slightly, his aura shimmering faint green but calm, his voice steady.
"No."
His words were simple, but the truth in them was absolute.
"You made it a war when you came here."
Miru clenched his fists, his mind racing with Roshi's teachings, Dodge. Control. Breathe... his body coiling like a spring, ready to strike.
Roshi stood behind them, his staff planted in the sand, his voice low, his smile slight.
"This… is why fundamentals matter."
The wind picked up again, the air humming with the energy of the Saiyans gathered. The real battle was about to begin.
The tension snapped.
Vegeta's aura flared, his voice a growl as he lunged forward, his fist crackling with dark energy.
"Then let's see how long your discipline lasts!"
His strike was a blur, a comet of power aimed directly at Dura. The air screamed as the punch cut through it, the force of it sending shockwaves rippling across the battlefield.
Dura moved.
Not to block. Not to counter.
To redirect.
His hand intercepted Vegeta's fist, his grip like iron as he twisted, using Vegeta's own momentum against him. The shockwave of the clash sent a tremor through the earth, the ground splitting beneath their feet.
Vegeta skidded backward, his eyes widening slightly as he felt the strength in Dura's grip, the control, the precision. For the first time, something like doubt flickered in his gaze.
Dura didn't gloat. Didn't smirk. He simply stood, his aura pulsing with emerald light, his voice calm.
"You talk too much."
Turles didn't hesitate. He blurred forward, his speed a streak of dark energy, his fist aimed at Goku. The air howled as he moved, his power a storm of controlled fury.
Goku grinned, his body shifting slightly as he sidestepped the strike, his movements fluid, effortless. He countered with a palm strike, the impact sending Turles skidding across the ground, his boots carving trenches into the earth.
Turles recovered instantly, his smirk never wavering, his voice smooth.
"Not bad… for a copy."
Goku's grin widened, his aura flaring slightly, his voice light but carrying the weight of a man who had faced great power and lived.
"Heh. You're not the first guy to underestimate me."
The air crackled with energy, the tension between the Saiyans palpable. Vegeta's gaze locked onto Dura, his voice cold, his words a challenge.
"You're still holding back."
Dura's voice was even, his gaze unblinking, looking down at Vegeta .
"And you're still overcompensating."
Vegeta's eye twitched, his jaw tightening.
The insult cut deeper than any blade.
Miru stepped forward, his aura flickering with emerald light, his voice sharp.
"You talk big for someone who just lost a soldier to an old man."
Vegeta's smirk faded, his gaze shifting to Miru, his voice mocking but tinged with something new, interest.
"And you… you're the interesting one, aren't you?"
Miru didn't flinch, his stance steady, his voice calm.
"I don't need to be interesting. I just need to be ready to fight and protect my home.. ."
The wind howled across the battlefield, the air vibrating with the energy of the Saiyans gathered. The sky darkened, the clouds swirling as if sensing the storm to come.
Goku cracked his knuckles, his grin wide, his voice carrying the weight of a man who had spent a lifetime pushing his limits.
"Alright, let's do this. But just so you know "
His aura flared, bright and pure, the energy of it pulsing like a heartbeat.
"I'm not the same guy you remember from Namek ."
Vegeta's smirk returned, his voice cold, his gaze locked on Dura.
"Neither are we."
The air hummed with rising ki, the ocean waves surging as the energy of the Saiyans gathered. The clouds spiraled overhead, the very world bending under the weight of the battle to come.