The dust had settled. The skies slowly returned to blue.
The ground was cracked, mountains leveled, and the once-pristine battlefield of the Cell Games was now a graveyard of energy. Yet, in the silence following Cell's destruction, the only sound was the slow shuffle of boots across the broken earth.
The Z Fighters were finally walking home.
Bruised, battered, scorched, bloodied—but alive.
Krillin limped forward, helping Tien, whose Tri-Beam barrage had nearly cost him everything. Yamcha had a deep gash across his ribs but forced a cocky smile to keep spirits high. Raditz and Nappa, scorched and breathing heavily, walked in silence, the reality of survival slowly settling in.
Gohan, one arm hanging limply at his side, walked beside Piccolo, who had one hand on the boy's shoulder.
Behind them, Goku, ever composed, flew slowly just above the ground—keeping close to the injured and ready to step in should anyone stumble.
The adrenaline was gone. The fear was gone. But the weight of what they had endured was heavy on everyone's shoulders.
They were finally done.
High above Earth, the Lookout floated peacefully—untouched by the chaos of the world below. It was here that the final piece of their recovery awaited them.
As they landed one by one on the white marble tiles, Dende, the new Guardian of Earth, ran to greet them. The young Namekian's eyes widened in horror at their wounds, but he was also clearly relieved.
"You're alive… all of you…"
Mr. Popo, standing in the background, bowed respectfully. "We felt the battle from here. Earth… is safe once more."
Gohan collapsed into a seated position. Krillin nearly did the same.
"We'd appreciate a little magic touch," Krillin wheezed, managing a chuckle.
Dende didn't waste time.
He raised his hands, and a warm green glow surrounded the group.
One by one, the cuts, bruises, and broken bones began to fade. Tien's scorched skin regrew, Yamcha's cracked ribs aligned and healed, and even Piccolo's deep internal wounds closed seamlessly.
When he reached Gohan, he gently touched the boy's shoulder.
"You… really gave it everything."
Gohan gave a tired smile. "It wasn't just me. We all did."
Raditz grunted. "Still hurts like hell."
Nappa sat down hard on the tiles. "That bastard Cell… I'll never forget the look on his face when Gohan blasted him to dust."
Krillin looked toward the sky. "I don't think any of us will."
After everyone was fully healed, they took a moment to just sit, breathe, and take in the calm that had been so foreign for months.
Goku stood quietly, arms crossed. He was deep in thought, watching his son out of the corner of his eye.
"You did well, Gohan."
The boy smiled faintly but didn't say anything. He was still processing the battle, the death, the fear… and the power he'd tapped into.
Vegeta, resting in a corner of the Lookout, his pride only mildly bruised, watched silently. His injuries had been the most severe, but the Senzu and with Dende's healing, he looked as sharp as ever—if quieter than usual.
Trunks sat beside him, arms around his knees, lost in thought.
Chichi, Bulma, and the rest of the support crew arrived shortly after via Capsule transport. The moment Chichi laid eyes on Gohan, she threw her arms around him.
"My baby! Are you okay?!"
"Mom—I'm fine, I'm fine!" Gohan assured her, chuckling awkwardly.
Bulma rushed to Vegeta, concern on her face, but Vegeta simply looked away, muttering something about needing rest.
"You better be thankful we weren't out there, mister," she said with a raised brow, trying to mask her own relief.
Even Master Roshi gave Yamcha and Krillin a proud nod. "Not bad for a bunch of kids."
The skies above The Lookout were clear, calm, and warm, painting the clouds in gentle gold. A rare stillness had returned to Earth—one that hadn't been felt since before the rise of the Androids.
But amid the peace, Krillin stood at the edge of the platform, staring off into the horizon. He held a single thought in his mind—unfinished business. There was still something left to do.
"Hey Dende," Krillin said softly, turning to the young Guardian. "It's time, right?"
Dende nodded. "Yes. The Dragon Balls are ready."
Within minutes, the Z Fighters gathered once more—now clean, healed, and in fresh clothes after their brutal clash with Cell.
Bulma, Chichi, Yamcha, Tien, Master Roshi, Gohan, Raditz, Nappa, Vegeta, Piccolo, and Goku all stood together as Dende raised his staff and chanted the words of power.
Lightning cracked through the clear skies.
The clouds churned with green energy.
And with a flash of brilliance—
"I AM SHENRON, THE ETERNAL DRAGON. STATE YOUR WISHES."
Krillin stepped forward, heart pounding in his chest. The massive, glowing emerald dragon towered above him, eyes pulsing with divine power.
"I wish for the damage done during Cell and the Androids attack be returned to perfect condition.
SHENRON's eyes glowed for a moment "Granted"
I wish for everyone who died because of Cell, and the Androids (even Dr. Gero and Android 19) to be brought back to life," Krillin said. "And to be returned safely to their homes newly rebuilt homes. That includes anyone from destroyed cities and towns."
Porunga's eyes lit up.
"YOUR WISH IS ACCEPTABLE… IT SHALL BE DONE."
With a blinding flash of light, the world shifted.
In distant cities reduced to rubble, buildings rose from the ashes.
Families that had mourned now embraced loved ones.
Civilians who had vanished in terror reappeared in their homes, dazed, confused—but safe.
All across the globe, life bloomed again.
Krillin hesitated for a moment, then looked back at Goku, Gohan, and Piccolo. All three gave him a supportive nod. He stepped forward once again.
"Shenron. For my last wish… I want Androids 16, 17 and 18 to be turned back into normal humans with the Bombs and any hostile programming from Gero removed.!"
Gasps echoed around the group.
"Krillin… are you sure?" Piccolo asked.
"They're not monsters," Krillin said firmly. "Not anymore. 18 helped us. She fought Cell. 16 is a gentle giant. 17 may have been absorbed, but he deserves a second chance too."
Shenron rumbled lowly.
"THAT WISH… IS BEYOND MY POWER. THE MODIFICATIONS DONE TO THEM WERE TOO DEEP. I CANNOT FULLY RESTORE THEM TO HUMANITY… BUT…"
Shenron's eyes pulsed again.
"…I CAN REMOVE THE BOMBS PLANTED INSIDE THEIR BODIES."
Krillin's eyes widened.
"Yes. Do that. Please."
"IT IS DONE."
As the divine light of Porunga's first wish faded from the skies, and the restoration of the world unfolded across the planet, two familiar figures began to materialize on the sacred tiles of the Lookout.
A ripple of energy surged around them—calm, composed, and unmistakably artificial.
Android 17 and Android 18 were back.
They stood still at first, blinking against the bright sun, eyes scanning the unfamiliar surroundings. The wind gently tousled their hair, and a moment of silence passed before either said a word.
Krillin, stunned but smiling, took a step toward them.
"You two… made it," he breathed, relief washing over his face. "And honestly? You guys… look great together."
18 raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms with her trademark bored expression. But there was a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.
"You do realize… we're siblings, right?" she said coolly, eyes narrowing slightly.
Krillin blinked, then rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.
"Right… yeah. I totally knew that," he laughed nervously.
Android 17, standing beside her, glanced toward Krillin. His gaze lingered for a second—studying the short martial artist, the courage in his eyes, and the calm strength that defied all odds.
He gave a small nod and thought to himself:
"So cool…"
With that, 18 turned and began flying away, not saying another word. 17 followed, hands in his pockets, casting one last amused glance back toward Krillin before disappearing with her over the horizon of the Lookout's edge.
Bulma: HEY! COME BY CAPSULE CORP TO GET YOUR FRIEND!
17 paused for a while and nodded.
Tien: You really letting them go?
Krillin smirked: They deserve it. But something tells me, we'll be seeing them more often.
Nappa teased: Krillin's got a girlfriend!
Making the Bald monk redden in embarrassment making everyone laughed. Well almost everyone as Trunks just stayed silent.
Mr Satan group moments after Cell was destroyed.
The battlefield was silent.
The dust had long settled. The skies once darkened by power and death had turned blue and calm again. The terrifying ki that shook the planet… was gone.
And so were the warriors.
All of them—Goku, Gohan, Vegeta, Piccolo, the bald ones, the three-eyed one, the short one in a robe, even that kid with a weird haircut—they'd left.
Only Mr. Satan, his crew, and a handful of trembling news reporters remained on the far ridge, mouths agape, recording equipment forgotten in their hands.
"Did you… did you get all that?" one of the camera crew whispered.
"Y-Yeah… we got everything. But the live broadcast cut off. I have no idea what I just filmed…"
Mr. Satan, sprawled awkwardly behind a boulder for cover the entire time, peeked out from behind it. He dusted off his championship belt, coughed into his fist, and straightened his afro with an exaggerated flair.
"WELL, WELL, WELL!" he shouted, loud enough to make the camera crew jump. "Looks like ol' Hercule Satan did it again!"
The boom mic operator stared at him, incredulous.
"Wait… what?"
Mr. Satan dramatically stepped onto the cracked tile of the arena, kicking away a leftover chunk of Cell Jr. like it was part of his master plan.
"Yup! That bug freak Cell? Taken down by me! That's right—me and my patented Rolling Dynamite Megaton Justice Slam!"
The reporters, still shaken but desperate for a narrative the public could actually process, immediately jumped to their feet.
"Mr. Satan!" one of them cried, "You mean you defeated Cell with no explosions, No flying? No—"
"That's right!" Satan puffed out his chest. "None o' that fake stuff. Just real martial arts! Blood, sweat, and years of raw training!"
A cameraman zoomed in as Satan posed with the crumbled remains of the arena behind him.
"Tell the people! It was tough—Cell even tried to bribe me at one point! Said I was too strong, asked for mercy!" Satan wiped a fake tear. "But I said: 'No way, bug boy! The Earth's under my protection!' Then BAM! Piledrive! POW! Elbow drop!"
Off to the side, Miguel, one of the crew members who actually saw the Z Fighters launch planetary-level attacks, whispered to another:
"Is he serious?"
"Do you want to be the guy that corrects him on live TV?"
The team collectively shook their heads.
Satan wasn't finished. He walked over to a pile of debris, dramatically lifted a half-buried boot belonging to a Cell Jr., and threw it into the distance with a victorious roar.
"You can't teach what I've got," he said to the camera. "Heart. Guts. A righteous 'fro. The world's safe once again, thanks to ME! HAHAHAHA!"
The press, unable to process the truth of what they'd witnessed, clung to this version like a lifeline. One reporter even cried.
"Truly… humanity's greatest champion…"
A few nearby survivors from the military began to gather, unsure what to believe but clinging to hope.
"Thank you, Mr. Satan!" a woman soldier cried.
"Our hero!" another cheered.
With a booming laugh, Mr. Satan threw his arms up, posing like a wrestling champion.
The crowd was growing, and the myth was already taking root. By the end of the day, there would be statues, parades, and news specials all across the globe.
In the background, Chiaotzu (disguised in a hoodie) whispered to Roshi, "Should we say something?"
Roshi chuckled.
"Let him have this one. The people need a hero they can understand. Let's be honest—nobody's going to believe a boy Gohan's age, 3 baldies, a guy with anger issues, or a green slug-man saved the world."
Mr. Satan wiped a "tear" from his eye and climbed atop the tallest piece of rubble like it was a throne.
"This is only the beginning, world! If more threats come, you better believe—Hercule Satan will be there to kick 'em back into space!"
The camera zoomed in as confetti (from somewhere?) began to fall.
The true saviors had already left the spotlight, flying home in silence.
And Earth's new "champion"… was just getting started.