The silence hung thick in the air, broken only by the faint hum of Whis's staff as he moved it over the battered Saiyans. Goku, Vegeta, Broly, and Gohan lay bruised and bloodied, remnants of their last battle etched into every wound. The quiet crackle of Whis's healing energy was all that kept them anchored, the comforting glow mending their broken bodies as they slowly regained consciousness.
Goku opened his eyes first, blinking away the haze, and winced as a sharp pain shot through his ribs. But even as his physical wounds began to fade, the memory of their defeat still weighed heavily in his mind. He glanced at Whis, who met his gaze with a calm, unreadable expression.
"Whis," Goku murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Where's Cell?"
Whis's face remained neutral, as if he hadn't heard the question. He continued his work, his hands moving with graceful precision, healing Gohan's deep cuts, tending to Vegeta's bruised form, and steadying Broly's ragged breathing. The question lingered in the air, unanswered, and the tension grew.
Vegeta sat up, his gaze dark and unwavering as he locked eyes with Whis. "Did you hear him, Whis?" he demanded, a faint edge to his voice. "Where is Cell?"
Whis's expression softened, but he maintained his silence, his gaze flicking toward the horizon as if drawn by something far beyond their reach. It was clear he had chosen not to speak, leaving the Saiyans to process the enormity of their situation.
"Tch," Vegeta scoffed, clenching his fists. "Typical." His voice was low, tinged with bitterness, and he turned away, his body tense with restrained anger. "This is a waste of time. I'm heading back to Earth."
Gohan, finally steady on his feet, nodded, his gaze drifting downward. "I need to see if Pan is safe." The worry in his eyes betrayed the strain of holding himself together, and his hand trembled as he gripped his side.
Whis, still calm, watched as the four Saiyans gathered their energy. He raised his staff, creating a small portal back to Earth. One by one, they stepped through, the warmth of Whis's healing aura fading as they left the quiet expanse of space behind.
....
They arrived in the heart of what was once the Red Ribbon headquarters. The air was thick with smoke, and charred debris littered the ground. Twisted remnants of machinery lay scattered, their wires frayed, sparking faintly in the dull light of a smog-covered sky. An oppressive quiet filled the air, as if the battle that had torn through this place still lingered in the ruins.
Bulma was there, her face pale and drawn, her hands trembling as she tended to Goten, Trunks, and Krillin. The three lay on makeshift stretchers, their bodies covered in bruises, their breathing shallow. Bulma's eyes were red-rimmed as she worked, wiping the blood from Goten's forehead, her touch gentle but her expression hollow. She looked up as the Saiyans arrived, and for a moment, relief flickered in her gaze before the weight of the scene pulled her down again.
Goku's breath caught as he saw his son, Goten lying still, his face battered and his arm bound tightly in a bloodied bandage. Goku knelt beside him, his hand hovering over Goten's face, his fingers brushing lightly against his hair. "Goten…" he whispered, his voice cracking.
A weak smile flickered across Goten's face as he stirred, his eyes fluttering open. "Dad…" he murmured, his voice strained.
"You're okay," Goku said softly, forcing a smile as he placed a gentle hand on Goten's shoulder. "I'm here now." His gaze shifted to Krillin, who lay a few feet away, staring blankly at the sky, his face pale, his breaths shallow. Goku reached out, his hand resting on Krillin's, and he squeezed gently.
Krillin stirred at the touch, his eyes focusing on Goku. There was a haunted look in his eyes, a deep, raw pain that went beyond the physical wounds. "Goku…" he whispered, his voice barely audible.
"Krillin, I'm here," Goku replied, his voice soft but steady. "I'm here."
Krillin's gaze dropped, his lips trembling as he struggled to find the words. "She… she's gone…" he stammered, his eyes glistening. "Eighteen… she…" His voice broke, and he looked away, a tear sliding down his cheek. "Her real name… is Lazuli." He choked on the name, as though saying it aloud solidified the harsh reality. "She… she's gone, Goku. She's gone, and I couldn't… I couldn't protect her…"
Blood mixed with his tears, creating dark streaks down his cheeks. His fists clenched as he took a shuddering breath. "I swear… on everything… I'll make him pay."
The weight of Krillin's words hung in the air, and Goku tightened his grip on his friend's hand, his own heart heavy with grief. He nodded, his voice hoarse. "We'll make him pay, Krillin. For her… for all of them."
A short distance away, Gohan moved to Pan, who sat alone, hugging her knees, her face streaked with tears. Her tiny body trembled, and when she saw her father, she ran to him, burying her face in his chest. "Daddy… it was so scary," she whispered, her voice muffled as she clung to him.
Gohan wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, his heart aching as he held her. "It's okay, Pan. I'm here now," he murmured, his voice filled with a fierce protectiveness. But even as he spoke, the memory of Piccolo's sacrifice weighed heavily on him, and he could feel the loss burning in his chest.
Pan looked up, her wide, tear-filled eyes searching his face. "Uncle Piccolo… is he… gone?"
Gohan's breath caught, and he hesitated, his throat tight. He didn't have the words, but he nodded slowly, his own tears blurring his vision. "Yes, Pan," he whispered, his voice breaking. "But he… he fought so hard for all of us."
Pan nodded, her small fingers clutching his shirt as she buried her face in his chest again. "I miss him…"
"I know," Gohan whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to her hair. "I miss him too."
As Gohan held Pan, Vegeta stood nearby, his arms crossed, his gaze cold but unwavering. He looked over at Trunks, who lay beside Goten, his face bruised, his breathing shallow. Trunks's eyes fluttered open, and he looked at his father, the faintest trace of relief crossing his face.
"You're safe now," Vegeta said, his voice rough but steady. He didn't move closer, but his presence held a silent promise, a vow that this loss would not go unanswered.
After a moment, Vegeta cleared his throat, his gaze shifting to the others. "This isn't over," he said, his voice low and resolute. "We can revive those we've lost."
The words were a beacon of hope, cutting through the despair that filled the air. Bulma looked up, her eyes widening as realization dawned on her. "The Dragon Balls…" she murmured, her voice soft but steady.
Beside her, Dr. Hedo nodded, his face grave as he watched the Saiyans. "If we can bring back those who fell in this battle… it may be our only chance to stand against Cell when he returns."
Gohan looked to Bulma, a flicker of determination in his eyes. "We'll need them all… to bring back everyone we've lost."
Bulma's gaze drifted to the worn remains of the Red Ribbon base, and she nodded, a spark of resolve igniting in her expression. "I know where they are," she said, her voice filled with quiet determination. "I'll gather the Dragon Balls. We're not letting Cell take any more from us."
The Saiyans and their allies stood together in the ruins, their gazes fixed on the horizon, where dark clouds gathered, heavy with the promise of more battles to come. But for the first time since the fight, a sense of purpose filled them, a quiet resolve to see this through to the end.
As the last light of day faded, casting long shadows across the broken landscape, Bulma turned, her voice firm as she addressed the group. "We're bringing them back… and we're going to finish this."
The others nodded, the weight of loss tempered by a newfound determination. And as they stood amid the ruins, the promise of vengeance and hope bound them together, preparing them for the trials that lay ahead.
The Dragon Balls lay gathered in a solemn circle. At Dende's command, the stone-like spheres crackled, their dull surfaces fading as they returned to their familiar, vibrant glow, radiating golden light across the silent, waiting faces of the others.
Dende stepped forward, his voice soft but resolute as he chanted the ancient words. The earth trembled as a gust swept over them, and in an instant, Shenron burst forth, his massive form coiling up toward the heavens. Yet something was off. His once-emerald scales were dimmed to a sickly, pale green, his eyes flickering with a weakened glow.
Shocked murmurs rippled through the group as they took in Shenron's frail appearance. Goku took a step forward, concern etched into his face. "Shenron… what happened to you?"
Shenron's head lowered, his normally booming voice a shadow of its former power. "Warriors of Earth, I am… weakened." His voice held a sorrowful tone, filled with a weight that hadn't been there before. "When I gifted my power to Piccolo, I unknowingly linked my life to his. With Piccolo's death, and his absorption into Cell, I can no longer summon my full strength."
Dende's eyes widened, his breath catching. "So… you're telling us you can't grant all of our wishes?"
Shenron nodded slowly, his enormous head dipping in apology. "I can only grant one wish… before…" He hesitated, a deep sorrow emanating from his being. "Before I, too, perish."
A stunned silence followed, the realization sinking heavily into their hearts. Dende took a step back, his voice shaking. "Shenron… is there any way to save you? Any wish we could make to restore you?"
The dragon's golden eyes softened, and he shook his head slowly. "There is no power in this realm that can restore me, young Guardian. With Piccolo's spirit fully consumed, his link to me is severed forever."
The weight of his words hit Krillin like a blow. Supported by Goku, he staggered, his face pale and his voice a mere whisper. "Then… can you bring back those who were killed by Cell?"
Shenron's expression softened with remorse as he lowered his gaze, his head dipping to avoid Krillin's pleading eyes. "I am sorry… but I cannot. Cell absorbed everything from them, their bodies, their essence… even their souls. They are beyond my reach."
Krillin's knees buckled, and he fell to the ground, his mind reeling. He tried to hold onto the hope that had brought him here, but with Shenron's words, that hope shattered. His eyes lost focus, his body trembling as the truth took root.
A raw scream tore from his throat, "HAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" The sheer force of his grief ignited his ki, a blinding aura flaring around him as his voice echoed across the desolate field. None of his friends moved to intervene; they simply let him mourn, each one grappling with their own sorrow.
As Krillin's cries faded, his ki dimmed, and he knelt there in silence, his breathing ragged and his spirit broken. He rose slowly, his gaze distant, the fight drained from his soul. Goku placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, but Krillin brushed it away, turning to face his oldest friend.
"No, Goku," he said, his voice low and steady, yet empty. "This is my job. Please… take care of my daughter." He took a deep breath, filling his lungs before forming a sphere of ki around himself, and, without another word, he lifted off into the sky. Higher and higher he flew, until he vanished into the vastness of space, leaving only the faintest glimmer in his wake.
The silence that followed was suffocating. Gohan watched, his hands balled into fists, his gaze fixed on the spot where Krillin had disappeared. He swallowed, his voice hoarse as he addressed Shenron. "If making a wish would end your life… then I don't want to ask for anything."
The dragon's golden eyes met Gohan's, filled with a mixture of sorrow and pride. "Young warrior, I am honored by your respect," Shenron's voice trembled slightly, and for the first time, a glimmer of moisture gathered in his eyes, tracing lines of shimmering light down his face. "But understand that I, too, have loved and lost. Piccolo… he was more than a protector. He was my friend."
Dende stepped forward, visibly shaken. "Shenron… I'm so sorry."
Shenron gazed down at the young Guardian, his tone becoming resolute. "Dende, there is one thing I ask before my end. It is my final wish… for vengeance against he who took him from us."
Dende's eyes widened, and the others shifted, taken aback by Shenron's words. "What… what do you mean?" Dende asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Shenron's gaze intensified, his ancient eyes boring into Dende's as he continued, his voice firm. "The time for restraint is over, Dende. The powers that have torn this world apart, that have shattered lives, will not rest until they are stopped. I can give you my strength, my wisdom… my very being. Merge with me, Dende."
The group gasped, and Dende took a step back, stunned. "Merge… with you? Shenron, that's a forbidden technique! That's… that's ancient magic from the Demon Realm. It was banned long ago for a reason."
"Dende!" Shenron's voice boomed with a sudden intensity that silenced any further protest. "I have remained bound to this world, granting power and guidance. But now, with my final moments, I offer you my essence so that you may stand strong. Do not hesitate! For the sake of Piccolo, for the sake of this world… accept my strength."
Dende looked up at Shenron, his eyes wide, searching the dragon's face for any sign of doubt. But Shenron's gaze was unwavering, filled with a fierce determination that left no room for second thoughts.
"Shenron…" Dende's voice was barely audible, his hands trembling as he tried to process the enormity of what was being asked of him. He had been the Guardian of Earth for years, protecting and healing, but merging with Shenron would mean transcending his role, embracing a power far beyond what he'd ever imagined. He swallowed, his voice choked. "You… you were always there for us, Shenron. If this is truly what you want…"
Shenron's eyes softened, and a faint smile curved his ancient, weary mouth. "This is my choice, young Guardian. I leave this world, and all who live within it, in your hands."
Dende took a deep breath, his resolve hardening as he stepped forward. "Then… I accept."
As Dende spoke those words, Shenron's form began to shimmer, his scales casting a brilliant golden-green glow. The air around them grew thick with energy as Shenron's massive form slowly began to dissolve, particles of green and gold light swirling around him, drawn toward Dende like a river of stars. The energy enveloped Dende, wrapping him in a blinding aura as the two beings began to merge.
A sudden surge of power flooded through Dende's body, his ki expanding beyond anything he'd ever felt. Memories, knowledge, and power beyond his own comprehension poured into him as Shenron's essence fused with his spirit. His skin glowed with the combined energies of their fusion, the green of his Namekian lineage blending with the gold of Shenron's spirit, creating a radiant, ethereal light.
The others watched, stunned, as the glow intensified, the combined power casting a warm, protective light across the shattered land. Gohan's gaze lingered on Dende, a mixture of awe and sorrow filling his eyes as he realized that this was Shenron's final gift, the ultimate sacrifice of a friend and protector.
As the last remnants of Shenron's form faded, Dende's figure re-emerged, transformed. His skin had taken on a faint golden hue, his eyes reflecting the wisdom of countless ages, and a sense of calm radiated from him, powerful yet serene. Shenron's energy pulsed within him, a heartbeat of ancient strength now interwoven with his own.
Silence fell over the group as they took in the sight before them. Shenron was gone, his spirit now bound to Dende, a final act of loyalty and sacrifice. And as the newly empowered Dende opened his eyes, a quiet yet unshakable determination filled the air, like the calm before the storm.
----
Nah it's not Zamala.
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