Pain dragged Kara back to consciousness. Her head throbbed, every muscle screaming in protest. She groaned and pushed herself upright, blinking against harsh sunlight streaming through the shattered viewport.
"What... where..." Her voice came out hoarse. She scanned the ruined cockpit as fragmented memories returned—the rift, the chase, the crash. "Orach!"
She tried to stand, but her legs buckled beneath her. Trembling and weak, she fell back into her seat. Gritting her teeth, she gripped the console for support and took slow, measured breaths until the dizziness subsided.
"My head... argh." Kara pressed her temples, wincing. "Why am I so weak?" She moved to assess the shuttle's condition, her expression darkening. "System status?"
Only static answered her.
She tried again, inputting manual commands on a secondary panel that still flickered with life.
More static crackled before the shuttle's AI responded, its voice weak and distorted. "...multiple systems... compromised... primary power... offline... running on auxiliary..."
Static swallowed the rest.
"Damn it." Kara forced herself upright, using the console for support. Every movement sent fresh waves of pain through her body. When she finally climbed out of the shuttle, the sight beyond stole her breath.
Massive trees stretched hundreds of meters skyward, their trunks wider than any building she'd seen on Earth or Krypton. Strange, alien calls echoed through the jungle—sounds unlike anything from either world. The air hung thick and humid, charged with an energy that made her senses tingle uncomfortably.
"Just perfect," Kara muttered. "Had to be a jungle."
She activated her terminal, attempting to establish a connection with Mother Empress. The AI's main body resided in Orach's personal terminal—her fastest way to locate him.
"Mother Empress, do you read me? Are you operational?"
Silence stretched for several heartbeats before Mother Empress's composed voice emerged. "Affirmative. Synchronizing with your terminal now... Looks like you survived the dimensional transition. Your vitals are stabilizing, and you've only sustained moderate injuries, all things considered."
"Thank Rao." Relief washed over Kara. "It's good to hear your voice. Moderate injuries I can handle after what we went through, but this weakness..." She flexed her fingers, feeling them tremble. "Can you assess what's happening to me?"
"Biometric data indicates exposure to exotic energies during transit through the spatial rift. Your suit couldn't fully shield you from their intensity in time. Your cells are functioning at approximately thirty percent capacity. Your body needs time to adapt. Given this harsh environment, I strongly recommend extreme caution until you've recovered. Your suit remains operational and will provide adequate protection, but avoid unnecessary risks."
"I see." Despite the concerning news, some relief settled over her. "No point worrying about something that'll fix itself with time. Orach landed safely somewhere on this island, right? Give me his coordinates. I'll head to you immediately."
A pause. When Mother Empress spoke again, her tone had shifted. "I've located your position from your suit's signal. You're fourteen kilometers southeast of our location. However, I strongly advise against joining us at this time."
"What? Why?"
"Young master's condition is unprecedented. His transformation into an Ancient Saiyan within the Void Realm altered him far more profoundly than anticipated. His bloodline has evolved—become significantly more potent. That uncontrolled transformation you witnessed, the form beyond the Golden Oozaru, was likely triggered by something deep within his genetic code."
Mother Empress paused. "What concerns me more: while he's no longer in that berserk super-state, he remains locked in Golden Oozaru form. This shouldn't be possible. The Oozaru transformation requires intense Blutz Wave exposure—typically from a full moon. But this planet's moon cannot produce sufficient Blutz Waves. I confirmed this last night. Yet he shows no signs of reverting."
"Whether it's the exotic energies from the rift or his evolved bloodline maintaining this form, I cannot recommend you approach him yet. He's slumbering peacefully now. His presence alone radiates enough power to frighten away any living creature, and his armor will protect him from anything foolish enough to attack. For your safety, focus on recovering your strength first. We'll reassess once he wakes."
Relief and concern warred in Kara's chest. He was alive and safe—but still transformed. Still lost.
"Understood. Where should I start? I was thinking of establishing a makeshift base and securing provisions."
"You're on the right track. First, establish a base around the shuttle. Repair what you can—prioritize shielding and weapons array. That way your base remains defensible even when you're away, giving you a safe fallback if you encounter serious danger. Then familiarize yourself with the environment. Map the surrounding area and identify resources. Your emergency rations will only last two weeks given your metabolism. I'll continue monitoring the young master and alert you when it's safe to approach."
Kara glanced back at her broken shuttle, then toward the northwest horizon where storm clouds perpetually churned. She wanted to fly to Orach immediately. But Mother Empress was right—rushing in unprepared, especially at thirty percent capacity, wouldn't help anyone.
"Fine. But keep me updated. The moment anything changes, I want to know."
"Acknowledged."
Within forty-eight hours, Kara had built a makeshift base under Mother Empress's guidance. She repaired control panels and expanded the shielding array outward, creating a seven-meter energy dome. She programmed the shield to refract light, camouflaging her position. But despite these preparations, one truth became painfully clear in the following days: this island did not tolerate weakness.
On her second day, while working on equipment salvaged from the shuttle, Kara's dulled senses detected movement overhead. She looked up just as something descended from the canopy—a nightmare fusion of insect and predator.
"What in Rao's name..." Kara breathed, her gaze tracking upward. "Is that a spider?"
Long, spindly legs stretched down from the leaves, each resembling the silver-gray, lightning-scarred tree trunks surrounding her. They blended seamlessly with the towering flora. When they touched the ground, they flexed. Six meters above, a bark-covered body hung suspended, its cluster of obsidian eyes glittering with cold hunger.
Mother Empress's voice crackled through Kara's earpiece. "It's able to mimic the flora with 98% accuracy. Height is approximately seven meters. Kara, I'm detecting sulfuric vapors from its mandibles. Extremely dangerous given your current condition. Recommend immediate evasion."
Before Kara could respond, one leg lashed downward like a whip. She dove aside—the strike gouged meter-deep furrows where she'd stood a heartbeat before.
Kara rolled to her feet and launched forward, her fist connecting with one of the creature's lower joints. She expected it to shatter on impact. Instead, the joint cracked and the creature merely staggered back, mandibles clicking in what seemed like surprise, all eight eyes fixating on her.
"Kara, disengage! Retreat now!"
"Yeah, too late for that," Kara grunted, bracing herself as the creature recovered. "I think I've got its attention."
She channeled ki throughout her suit, feeling the energy reinforce her weakened body. Moving fast, she pressed the attack with rapid combinations—targeting the segmented joints and fibrous underbelly. The creature shrieked, a sound like dry wood splitting, then whipped its head forward and sprayed a stream of concentrated acid directly at her.
Kara ducked, but the spray caught her shoulder. Her suit shimmered with faint blue light, neutralizing the corrosive liquid.
The beast lunged, lowering its body to bring serrated pincers within striking range. Kara intercepted the descending leg with both hands, planted her feet, and with a roar of effort twisted hard and pulled sideways. The joint snapped with a wet crack, clear blood spraying out.
The creature stumbled, its remaining legs scrambling to compensate for the sudden imbalance. It crashed to the ground with a thunderous impact that shook the canopy above. Before it could right itself, Kara drove the severed limb straight through the center of its eye cluster.
The creature convulsed once, its long legs curling inward. Then it went still.
"For the record," Kara said, standing over the corpse and breathing hard, "I'm not a fan of bugs." Despite her suit's protection, she could still feel lingering heat where the acid had struck. "What kind of place is this?"
"Interesting fauna. The beasts appear to be enlarged, mutated versions of Earth insects, though the environment resembles certain training worlds in the Higher Realms. I suggest recording your encounters for future reference. What designation would you like to assign this specimen?"
Kara wiped sweat from her brow. "Walks like a spider, looks like a spider, shoots acid—let's call it an Acid Spider."
"Understood. Recorded."
Over the following days, Kara encountered more of the island's denizens. On day four, a pack of jackal-like creatures—sleek, eyeless predators hunting through echolocation—cornered her near a water source. She fought them off, but their coordinated attacks forced her to take several hits. Her suit absorbed most of the damage, preventing serious injury.
As she caught her breath, her ki sense detected movement. A hawk-like creature dove from above, drawn by the scent of blood. Before she could react, sonic shrieks slammed into her like physical blows.
"Aarrrggghh!"
Kara dropped to one knee, vision swimming. The creature circled overhead, its shrieks intensifying with each pass. Through sheer willpower, she forced her eyes open and tracked its flight path. As it dove again, she unleashed her heat vision. Twin blue beams of concentrated energy caught the hawk mid-flight. It plummeted from the sky in a smoking heap.
She turned toward the jackals, her expression cold. "Who's next?"
The jackals stepped back. After a moment's hesitation, they scattered into the undergrowth.
Kara exhaled in relief, dusted off her suit, and returned to base.
Each encounter taught her something vital. The island's ecosystem operated on a level of brutality that made Earth's most dangerous regions seem tame. Everything here existed as both predator and prey simultaneously, locked in constant lethal competition. She was just another newcomer learning the rules.
But she was adapting. Each fight pushed her body to recover faster, sharpened her reflexes. Her training with Rachel and Diana had built a solid foundation—she'd even fought simulations in hostile jungle environments. But this was different. This wasn't a simulation. This was survival in its purest, most primal form.
By the seventh day, she'd expanded her territory's perimeter with traps and identified a reliable water source. Most importantly, with Mother Empress's help, she'd modified her terminal to scan the surroundings, working in tandem with her ki sense to detect threats before they closed in.
That evening, while exploring another section of the island, her terminal picked up anomalous readings.
"Interesting. I'm detecting low-frequency radio bursts," Mother Empress reported.
"What? Then there are people here besides the beasts."
"Possibly. Though they could be random electromagnetic bursts from radiation or geological activity. I suggest continuing your exploration while remaining alert."
Kara looked northwest, where storm clouds perpetually churned over distant cliffs. "Tomorrow. I'll start moving in that direction to find Orach first. You mentioned he's calmer now. Let's try making contact. Then we can investigate these signals. If there really are signs of civilization, we'll find them. But Orach comes first."
That night, Kara lay in her shelter inside the shuttle, staring at unfamiliar constellations through gaps in the canopy while recording her log entry. Different stars. Different sky. An entirely different universe.
Mother Empress had suggested keeping a daily log to maintain perspective. While she had the AI to talk to, Mother Empress was still just that—an AI. And her only friend in this universe was trapped in beast form, unable to recognize her. This was Kara's first time truly alone in an alien reality.
Her thoughts drifted. Somewhere out there, beyond this realm, maybe even many more beyond that, lay the realm they'd fallen from. Where Diana, Rachel, Kal-El, and her friends were probably worried sick. But in the next moment, she took a deep breath and steadied herself. Right now, all that mattered was finding Orach and bringing him back.
"Hang on," she whispered to the stars. "I'll find you, and we'll come back soon."
She closed her eyes and let exhaustion claim her.
Meanwhile, in the distant cliffs, the Golden Oozaru's eyes opened. Devoid of recognition or memory. Only instinct remained—pure, primal, overwhelming. The beast rose slowly, his massive form filling the cave. He turned toward the jungle, nostrils flaring as he processed a thousand scents. Prey everywhere. And something else—something that pulled at fragmented memories he couldn't quite grasp, like trying to remember a dream upon waking.
But in the next moment, he shook his head, stepped from the cave, and unleashed a roar that shook the island. Birds exploded from trees in panicked clouds. Predators froze mid-hunt, reassessing whether they were hunters or prey. Even the perpetual storms seemed to pause, as if the sky itself held its breath.
The island had a new apex predator. And he was hungry.
The next day, Kara began her journey northwest. After three days of relentless travel through dense, hostile jungle, she reached the cliffs on the eleventh day since the crash.
The cave entrance gaped before her like a wound carved into stone. Deep gouges scarred the rock face—claw marks, each one larger than Kara herself. The ground was littered with carnage: splintered bones, torn scales, shredded flesh she couldn't identify.
"He's inside," Mother Empress confirmed through her terminal. "I've tried communicating with him multiple times, but he can barely focus for more than a few moments."
Kara approached slowly, her ki sense painting the area in ethereal colors. At its center, deep within the cave, burned a golden presence so intense it stole her breath. The closer she got, the heavier the air became, pressing down on her shoulders.
"Orach?" Her voice echoed into darkness. "It's me. It's Kara."
For a moment, only silence answered.
Then something massive shifted in the shadows.
Two crimson eyes blazed open, locking onto her. The ground trembled with each approaching footfall. Every instinct screamed at her to run, but she held her ground, clinging to her resolve to help her friend.
When he stepped into the daylight, his full form was revealed.
He towered sixty meters tall. Golden fur rippled over the massive muscles of his exposed arms. His chest was covered in armor, cape attached behind. His tail carved deep furrows in the earth as it swished. Those blank, crimson eyes fixed on her. Up close, he was far more imposing than she remembered. She searched for any spark of recognition but found only the cold stare of an apex predator.
"It's okay." Kara raised her hands slowly, voice steady despite her racing heart. "I'm not here to fight. I'm here to help you. To bring you back."
The Golden Oozaru tilted his massive head, studying her with curiosity. For one heartbeat, she thought she glimpsed something flicker behind those red eyes—recognition, confusion, or perhaps both.
Then his lips peeled back, revealing fangs.
"Orach, please." Kara swallowed hard but held her ground. "Try to remember who you are. Try to remember Diana and Rachel. They're waiting for you. They need—"
He moved.
One massive hand blurred through the air. Kara barely dodged—the displaced air alone hit like a shockwave, sending her tumbling backward. She caught herself mid-flight, but her weakened state betrayed her. Unable to maintain altitude, she crashed through trees and slammed into the ground. Her body hadn't fully recovered, and sustained flight remained beyond her capabilities, limiting her to powerful leaps and short bursts.
"Okay." Kara rose slowly, looking up at the towering figure. "Not ready for conversation yet. Message received."
ROAR
The Golden Oozaru's roar shook the island.
Somewhere in the distant jungle, another predator answered with its own roar, but the Oozaru simply ignored it.
Kara retreated to a safer distance, landing on a cliff overlooking the cave. The Golden Oozaru watched her with narrowed eyes, head tilted slightly, as if weighing whether she was worth pursuing. Then he turned and lumbered back into the shadows, dismissing her as non-threatening.
"Well," Kara muttered, catching her breath. "That went about as well as could be expected."
"First contact with feral subjects rarely produces positive results," Mother Empress offered. "Patience and repeated exposure will be required."
Kara settled onto the rocky outcropping, her gaze fixed on the cave entrance. "How long can he stay locked in this form?"
"Unknown. This is uncharted territory." Mother Empress paused. "There are two possibilities. First: the young master may be locked in this state due to residual exotic energies from dimensional transit—similar to how your own abilities remain suppressed. He needs time for his physiology to stabilize."
"And the second?"
"As I mentioned before, something deeper may be maintaining the transformation. His Ancient Saiyan bloodline could be responding to the dimensional trauma in unpredictable ways—his body and mind reverting to their most primal state as an instinctive survival response. We still don't fully understand this evolved bloodline's potential."
Mother Empress's holographic avatar materialized, her expression grave. "The only certain solution I can offer is severing the young master's tail. But given his current state and your reduced power, any attempt would be extremely dangerous. The probability of success is minimal."
Kara pulled rations from her terminal space and settled in. "Then I'll work on getting him lucid enough to do it himself. Or at least calm enough to let me try."
"Without conscious control, his Saiyan instincts will dominate everything. He won't remember you or distinguish friend from foe—exactly as you just saw. Right now, his mind operates purely on survival programming: to dominate, hunt, and destroy. You're just an unknown, non-threatening variable in his territory."
Kara stared at the dark cave entrance. "He's in there somewhere. I have to believe that." Her voice was quiet but certain. "We just need to reach him, however long it takes."
Over the following days, Kara established a routine.
Each morning at dawn, she approached the cave. She called out to Orach, varying her approach. Sometimes she brought offerings—massive carcasses from her hunts. The Golden Oozaru seemed unimpressed; he preferred hunting his own prey.
Other times, she simply sat outside the cave and talked. She told stories about Diana and Rachel. She described the Void Sentinel, planet Earth, its cities and oceans, its people and cultures. Anything that might trigger a dormant memory.
The Golden Oozaru never attacked her again after that first day. But he never acknowledged her either. He would emerge from the cave—sometimes at her approach, other times on his own. He would stare with those blank crimson eyes for several minutes, then either ignore her completely or lumber back into the darkness.
On the seventeenth day, after noting Orach's attention span had increased, Mother Empress tried something different.
"Young Master." Her holographic form projected from Orach's wrist terminal, expanding to human size. "Please, look at these."
Projections flickered to life. Images of Sadala appeared first, then his parents—Cress and Gula in their armors—followed by members of the Strategic Division he was close to, then his crew. Finally came projections of Diana in her battle suit, smiling with warmth that could light up a room, and Rachel in her hooded cloak, dark ki flaring around her, amusement dancing in her eyes. The images cycled through training sessions and quiet moments of companionship from their vacation.
The Golden Oozaru emerged slowly, drawn by the flickering lights. He approached with cautious steps, his massive head lowered, bringing those crimson eyes level with the projections.
Kara watched from nearby, tracking his every reaction.
For one fragile moment, something shifted in his bestial features. His eyes narrowed, confusion flickering across them. The projections triggered memories that felt like fog slipping through his fingers each time he tried to grasp them. But somewhere deep beneath the primal instinct, those images sparked recognition.
His hand rose slowly, reaching toward Diana and Rachel. A strange longing welled up inside him, though he couldn't grasp its source no matter how hard he tried.
He stared at those figures for a long moment. Then frustration overwhelmed him. The fragmented memories refused to coalesce, refused to make sense. With a snarl of pure aggravation, he swatted at the holograms. His hand passed harmlessly through them, scattering them into particles of light. Mother Empress quickly reassembled the projections at a safer distance.
"Young Master Orach, please wait!" Mother Empress called out urgently. "I know you can sense these are important. Just try to—"
The Oozaru's head snapped toward the hologram, his expression twisted in a snarl. His tail lashed out like a striking serpent, passing through Mother Empress's holographic form and disrupting the projection into cascading particles of light.
"Orach, please." Kara stepped forward, unable to watch him struggle anymore. "They're your friends. Your family. Diana and Rachel—they love you. They need you to come back. I need you to—"
His tail reversed direction without warning.
The impact caught her across the torso before she could react. She flew backward, unable to stop her momentum, and slammed into the cliff face. Rock cracked and crumbled around her, fragments raining down as fissures spread from the impact crater. She fell to her knees on the rubble, one hand pressed to her ribs, coughing violently.
Thankfully nothing broke—her battle suit had absorbed most of the kinetic energy, flaring bright blue at impact. But it still hurt.
When she looked up through watering eyes, the Golden Oozaru had already dismissed her. He turned away without a second glance, lumbering back into his cave as if the entire interaction had been merely a minor annoyance.
"At least he didn't try to kill me outright," Kara spat blood and forced herself to stand, ignoring the sharp protests from her bruises. "I'll take that as progress."
She retreated to her camp that evening, but her resolve never wavered. Somewhere inside that massive, primal form, her friend remained trapped. She'd promised herself she would bring him home, and she wasn't one to break her promises.
The next day, while hunting for an offering, Kara's ki sense flared—twenty jackals were closing in, circling her position. Two to four meters long, their obsidian-black fur absorbed light, making them nearly invisible in shadows. Fangs dripped with paralytic venom potent enough to drop prey three times their size. They'd been stalking her since dawn, and now they struck.
"I really don't have time for this." Kara pressed her back against the cliff face as the pack closed in. Her body had recovered somewhat, but she couldn't risk a prolonged fight—she needed to conserve her energy for Orach.
The alpha—a scarred jackal missing half its tail—lunged first. Kara sidestepped at the last second, catching it mid-leap and redirecting its momentum straight into two packmates closing in behind her. The three jackals collided in a tangle of limbs and snarls but recovered quickly, already repositioning.
Before she could press her advantage, another darted in from her left. She pivoted, deflecting its lunge with her forearm. One came from the right—she blocked it with a quick ki-enhanced kick that sent it skidding back. Her ki sense flared, detecting movement above. Another had scaled the cliff face and was already dropping toward her.
Her eyes blazed blue. Heat vision lanced upward, burning clean through the airborne jackal's chest. It dropped lifeless to the ground.
As the fight wore on, something felt off. She'd fought these creatures before—they always went for the kill. But now, even after she'd killed several, the survivors weren't pressing the attack. Every strike drove her in the same direction, forcing her to adjust her position little by little.
They were herding her.
She'd been maneuvered into a narrow ravine, cliff walls rising steeply on either side. Her aerial options were severely limited in this confined space. She channeled ki into her legs, preparing to launch herself straight up and out, when movement at the ravine's far end made her senses flare in warning.
A six-meter-long nightmarish creature—part vulture, part serpent—emerged from the shadows. Its mouth could unhinge wide enough to swallow her whole. Bioluminescent patterns rippled across its flanks in hypnotic waves of cyan and violet. A sound emanated from deep within its throat, bypassing her ears entirely to resonate directly inside her skull.
Kara's vision blurred. Her equilibrium faltered.
"What the hell?!" She dropped to one knee, fighting to maintain balance.
Behind her, the jackals stopped their advance. Several stepped back, their alpha releasing a wary growl. They positioned themselves at the ravine entrance. These creatures had learned that some targets required a different approach—let the island's more dangerous predators do the work, then feast on what remained. If fortune smiled and both prey and predator were left weakened, the pack could strike to claim both.
The creature's sonic attack intensified. Kara realized with growing horror that it was adapting, actively calibrating its frequency to exploit her physiology.
Her knees buckled. She pressed her hands desperately over her ears, but it made no difference—the assault bypassed external defenses entirely. Blood trickled from her nose. Her vision fractured into doubles, then triples.
She tried channeling ki through her suit's systems to create a protective counter-frequency, but the sensory overload shattered her concentration before she could establish any defense.
Seeing its prey unable to resist and down on her knees, the creature lunged forward, its mouth unhinging impossibly wide.
No... I can't die here. Even as death closed in, mere inches away, Kara kept channeling her ki, refusing to surrender.
Just then a crushing pressure descended on the ravine. Every living thing froze mid-motion—jackals with fangs bared, Kara on her knees, even the serpentine creature with its lamprey mouth still unhinging. The sonic attack cut off abruptly as the beast's head snapped toward the sky.
A massive shadow fell over them all.
The sixty-meter Golden Oozaru crashed into the ravine with the force of a meteor strike. The impact cratered the ground beneath him, sending out a shockwave that hurled creatures in every direction. Rock and debris exploded outward in a deadly spray.
Kara was thrown backward, her body slamming into the ravine wall. Her battle suit flared brilliant blue, dispersing the kinetic force throughout its matrix, but the lingering effects of the sonic assault still had her senses reeling. Through the haze of dust and disorientation, she registered only two things, sudden silence, and the violent tremor that continued beneath her.
The serpentine creature recovered first. Survival instinct overrode shock as it coiled its body, preparing to strike or flee—but a golden-furred hand closed around its mid-section before it could do either.
Orach swung the creature like a whip.
The beast's body connected with the opposite wall with devastating force. Rock didn't just crack—it shattered. Massive chunks broke free, triggering a cascading avalanche as fissures spider-webbed up the cliff face.
Through the billowing dust cloud, Kara watched the creature struggle to right itself, her vision slowly clearing. Even dazed and injured, its predatory drive wouldn't let it retreat without one final attempt. Its mouth began to unhinge again, bioluminescent patterns flickering as it prepared another sonic assault.
Orach's other hand shot forward and seized the creature's head.
CRUNCH.
The sound echoed through the ravine. The skull collapsed inward under the pressure. The creature's body convulsed once, then went completely limp.
Orach released his grip. The corpse hit the ground with a heavy, meaty thud that kicked up a small cloud of dust.
The jackals didn't wait to see what would happen next. They scattered in every direction, disappearing into whatever crevices and shadows they could find. They had survived this long by knowing when they were outmatched.
Kara pushed herself up from the rubble, breathing hard as her vision fully cleared. Orach... he came. Her mind raced. He'd left his territory—traveled all this way into unfamiliar hunting grounds. Could it be...? A fragile hope kindled in her chest.
The Golden Oozaru stood over the serpentine corpse, releasing a low, rumbling growl toward the fleeing pack—a final warning to anything still watching. Then, slowly, those crimson eyes turned toward her.
Kara froze.
Neither of them moved. She held her breath, acutely aware that wounded and weakened as she was, she'd be easy prey by this island's brutal standards. One swing of that massive arm could end her just as easily as it had ended the creature at his feet.
But Orach didn't attack. He simply stared, his massive head tilting slightly to one side in an expression that seemed almost... curious. As if he was trying to grasp something just beyond reach. Trying to understand why this particular creature triggered an unfamiliar compulsion—why he'd felt the sudden, overwhelming need to protect her when her energy signature had grown faint.
Kara caught that flicker of curiosity, the confusion that rippled across his bestial features. Her hope grew stronger. She steeled herself, drew in a steadying breath, and spoke, her voice hoarse but clear.
"Thank you. You saved my life, Orach."
He didn't respond. Didn't even blink. He just continued to stare down at her with those crimson eyes.
But Kara didn't mind. A part of her recognized this as progress—he hadn't dismissed her and lumbered away as he always did. For the first time since they'd arrived on this strange world, he lingered, contemplating her existence with something more than animal indifference.
I'm right. He is trying to remember.
Kara took a cautious step forward, then another, closing the distance by a few feet. "You don't consciously remember me. I understand that. But somewhere deep inside, some part of you knows." She held his gaze. "Knows I'm not prey. Knows I'm not a threat. Knows I'm..." She searched for the right word. "...important, somehow."
The Oozaru's eyes narrowed slightly at her words. Something shifted in his expression—recognition trying to surface, perhaps, or frustration at the elusive nature of whatever he was feeling.
Then, after a long moment, he simply snorted. The sound sent a small puff of dust swirling around his nostrils. He turned and began walking out of the ravine, each footfall causing the earth to tremble and leaving deep impressions in the rocky ground as he headed back toward his territory.
Kara watched for a heartbeat, then made her decision.
She followed, maintaining a respectful distance of about six meters.
He didn't chase her away. Didn't even look back. He simply allowed her presence, permitted her to trail behind him through the alien landscape.
When they finally reached his cave, he paused at the entrance. For one long moment, he looked back over his massive shoulder, watching as she made her way toward her temporary camp nearby. Then, without a sound, he disappeared into the darkness.
Kara settled onto her usual observation point on the cliff face overlooking the cave entrance. She pulled out a ration bar and allowed herself a small, genuine smile as she opened her log terminal.
"Progress," she whispered, recording the new entry as alien stars began emerging in the darkening sky above. "Finally, real progress."
Inside the cave, the Golden Oozaru settled into absolute darkness. His eyes closed, but sleep eluded him. Something nagged at the edges of his consciousness—images without context, feelings he couldn't name, a persistent sense that something crucial was missing.
When sleep finally came, fragments of dreams emerged. The images Mother Empress had shown him flickered and evolved into something more substantial—but dissolved before he could grasp them. Echoes of memories, shadows of what once was, waiting patiently to be rekindled.
Over the following days, Orach allowed her within fifteen meters of the cave entrance without retreating. Sometimes he'd emerge and sit at the entrance, watching her with inscrutable red eyes while she talked—about Diana, about Rachel, about home. He never responded, but he listened.
Kara observed him just as carefully. She watched him hunt a herd of armored quadrupeds—creatures whose horn-like protrusions could gore through solid rock. One moment the herd grazed peacefully. The next, Orach moved among them with impossible speed despite his enormous size, taking down three before the rest could flee. He dragged the carcasses back with casual strength that made the feat look effortless.
She'd also been studying his tail for weeks, noting how it swished expressively, how he used it in attacks, occasionally wrapping it around his waist when he slept.
Kara attempted to sever it three times. Each attempt ended in spectacular failure.
The first time, she waited until he was in deep sleep. Moving stealthily, she got within arm's reach, heat vision charging in her eyes. His eyes snapped open. The backhand sent her crashing through two ancient trees before she cratered into the ground.
On the second attempt, during a hunt, she hoped distraction would provide an opening. The moment she fired heat vision at the tail, Orach casually moved it aside without even looking. His hand sent her flying once more.
The third attempt was the most promising and most humiliating. She actually grabbed the tail with both hands, thinking sheer recovered strength might be enough to tear it off. Orach paused, looked back with what could only be described as annoyance, then simply lifted his tail—with her still clinging to it—bringing her close to his face.
"Hehe... Sorry," Kara said with a forced smile.
Orach snorted and slammed her into the ground repeatedly like a cat toying with prey. When he finally released her, she'd been embedded three feet deep into solid rock.
"I believe he finds your attempts... irritating," Mother Empress observed as Kara extracted herself from the crater.
"You think?" Kara muttered sarcastically, wincing as she pulled herself free from the rubble.
But despite the failures and mounting frustration, something fundamental was changing. Orach's reactions shifted from hostile to tolerant. Almost protective. He'd grunt when she approached now—not aggressively, but more like acknowledgment. He'd occasionally swat at her with his tail, but gently now, more annoyed than aggressive. Like swatting at a persistent but ultimately harmless insect.
And when danger threatened, he was always there.
During week five, a flock of giant bird-like monsters descended on Kara while she gathered water. Before she could engage them, Orach appeared and scattered them with a single earth-shaking roar. His presence alone sent them fleeing in terror.
When a cliff section collapsed during a violent storm, threatening to crush her makeshift camp, one massive golden hand caught the falling rock formation—thousands of tons held steady—while she scrambled clear. He held it until she was safe, then tossed it aside like a pebble.
He didn't remember her consciously. Didn't understand who she was or why she was here. But some part of him—some buried instinct or fragmented memory—recognized she was important. Worth protecting. Worth keeping alive.
"We're getting there," Kara muttered to herself one evening, watching the Golden Oozaru's massive form silhouetted against the setting sun. "Soon, I'll bring you back, Orach. Then we can go home."
In the eighth week of their time on the island, Kara tracked a wounded creature through the dense jungle—one of Orach's discarded prey, injured but still dangerous enough to threaten her camp. Her ki sense suddenly flared. The ground trembled beneath her feet.
Something massive was coming.
"Mother Empress," Kara whispered, crouching behind an outcropping of rock. "What am I picking up?"
"Approximately two kilometers out and closing fast," Mother Empress replied. "Energy signature is distinctly different from any local fauna we've encountered. Recommend caution. Just observe for now."
The massive trees ahead parted as something enormous pushed through.
Kara's eyes widened. "You've got to be kidding me. A giant gorilla?"
He stood at least eighty meters tall—noticeably larger than Orach's Golden Oozaru form, though less imposing. Gray fur covered his powerful frame, distinctive battle scars marking his chest and arms. But what caught Kara's attention were his eyes.
There was a calm in them, and they seemed almost... intelligent.
"Fascinating," Mother Empress noted as she used Kara's terminal to scan the newcomer. "Height approximately 82 meters. Physical capabilities considerably exceed any indigenous creature we've encountered. That explains the distinctive signature."
Suddenly the ground shook again, more violently this time. Both Kara and the gorilla turned toward the source. Through the treeline, the Golden Oozaru emerged, dragging a massive fresh kill behind him.
"Oh no," Kara breathed. "This can't be good."
The gorilla's gaze locked onto the approaching Oozaru. For a long moment, neither creature moved. Kara watched his eyes travel across the armored golden form—surprise flickering through them, then a flash of hope. But as his gaze settled on the tail, as he sensed the oppressive aura radiating from the intruder, that hope died. His eyes darkened with grim understanding—this creature was not his kin but an enemy.
In the next moment, he beat his chest with both fists—a resonant boom that echoed across the entire forest. A challenge. A declaration that this was his territory, and no rival would be tolerated.
The Golden Oozaru's eyes narrowed. His tail swished as he snarled. Then he dropped his kill and straightened to his full height. Golden ki flared around him—an oppressive pressure descending over the area.
Even from this distance, Kara felt it—the weight of Orach's power pressing down on everything. The gorilla felt it too. Every instinct must have been screaming warnings.
But he didn't back down.
Roar!
With a sound that shook the trees and earth, he charged.
"This is going to be bad," Kara muttered, launching herself toward them. "Really bad."
She didn't care about mindless beasts acting on pure instinct. But if this creature had intelligence, she couldn't let him get hurt—not by Orach, not while her friend wasn't himself.
The gorilla closed the distance in moments, his massive fist drawing back, muscles coiling for a devastating strike aimed at the Oozaru's torso.
Orach's tail moved almost lazily.
Crack!
The impact sounded like thunder. The gorilla's momentum reversed instantly—launched backward through the air. He crashed through several trees before slamming into a cliff face hard enough to crack the stone.
"Ouch—that had to hurt." Kara winced. She knew from past observation that a blow like that would have pulverized most creatures.
But the gorilla pulled himself from the rubble, shaking his head. His eyes gazed up and locked on the Oozaru before him once more, his fighting spirit undiminished. He roared again—louder, more furious—and charged without hesitation.
"Don't!" Kara shouted, but her voice was lost in the chaos.
What followed was a brutal, one-sided beatdown.
The gorilla threw everything he had into the fight—powerful strikes that could shatter stone, desperate grappling attempts, even hurling massive boulders and uprooted trees. Each attack demonstrated intelligence, strategy, and hard-won experience.
Orach responded with casual swipes of his tail and hands. Each strike sent the gorilla tumbling across the landscape. Each backhand carved new craters into the terrain as the gorilla crashed down, his attacks swatted aside effortlessly. For Orach, this was no challenge—barely more effort than swatting an insect.
But the gorilla kept rising. Kept coming back with stubborn refusal to submit. His pride and territorial instinct—the conviction of a king defending his domain—drove him to stand again and again.
Kara defended herself from the scattering debris from their fight, trying to get close.
But the final exchange soon came when the gorilla leaped onto Orach's back, perhaps hoping to find a vulnerable spot. The Golden Oozaru simply reached back, grabbed him by the leg, and slammed him into the ground repeatedly—once, twice, three times, each impact creating deeper craters. Then he hurled him toward the distant mountains.
The gorilla's body carved a trench through the jungle hundreds of meters long before finally coming to rest against a cliff base several kilometers away.
The Golden Oozaru snorted dismissively, retrieved his kill, and lumbered back toward his cave. Just another challenger defeated. Already forgotten.
Kara watched Orach disappear into the jungle, then immediately turned toward where the gorilla had landed. Even from this distance, she could see his chest rising and falling—his breathing labored, but steady. "That's one tough ape."
"You should verify his condition," Mother Empress suggested.
"I was already planning to." Kara paused mid-step, frowning. "But why do you suddenly sound so interested in him?"
"Three reasons. First, a creature of that size and intelligence is clearly an apex predator here. His death could destabilize the local ecosystem. Second, he displayed clear sapience during combat—we may be able to communicate. Having a possible ally in this strange world is just strategic. Third—" Mother Empress paused. "I've detected surveillance drones in the area. They've been tracking the creature. I suggest activating stealth mode immediately. While you investigate, I'll attempt to interface with their network."
Kara's expression became focused. "Understood." A small smile crossed her face. "We might finally learn something about this world."
She activated her suit's stealth mode and moved through the jungle. Without enough solar energy to fly, she relied on powerful leaps, bounding from tree to tree toward the crash site. Minutes later, she reached the crater's edge and stepped onto a nearby treetop.
Kong lay sprawled below, his massive chest heaving with each labored breath. Up close, the intelligence in his eyes was unmistakable—pain, anger, and frustration flickering across his expression.
"Multiple hostile life signs converging," Mother Empress warned suddenly. "Moving rapidly underground."
"I sense them too." Kara's eyes narrowed as she tracked the disturbances beneath the earth. "A lot of them."
The ground erupted. Serpentine creatures burst forth—skeletal faces, rows of jagged teeth, moving with predatory pack coordination. A scarred alpha missing one eye led the charge, its jaws unhinging impossibly wide.
"Ugly bastards," Kara muttered.
"Kara, I've interfaced with the surveillance drones," Mother Empress said. "Camouflaging your presence now. Accessing their database..." A pause. "Fascinating. This world is also called Earth. Humans are the dominant species here too, but that's where the similarities end. This planet hosts megafauna—the locals call them 'Titans'—coexisting within a vast subterranean ecosystem."
She continued, "This island is called Skull Island. The drones belong to an organization called Monarch—they maintain Outpost 33 here for monitoring. That creature is Kong, the last of his kind. He possesses near-human intelligence and serves as the island's primary guardian. Those serpentine creatures are Skullcrawlers—historical records show they waged a generations-long war that drove Kong's species to extinction. He's the sole survivor. They likely observed his fight with the young master and are now moving to finish him while he's vulnerable."
Below, Kong roared at the encircling predators as he struggled to his feet. The sound echoed across the crater, but did nothing to slow their advance.
The Skullcrawlers charged.
"If he's truly intelligent, this is our opening," Kara said softly. "I'm engaging."
She launched herself forward just as the lead Skullcrawler leaped toward Kong, jaws stretched wide. Her heat vision lanced out mid-flight, severing the creature's head cleanly. The corpse crashed down in a spray of blood mere meters from Kong's position.
Kara landed between Kong and the swarm. The impact sent a shockwave rippling outward, dust and debris expanding in a wave that forced the creatures back several meters.
"Come on then," she said, straightening slowly. She cracked her knuckles, then glanced back at Kong. "Kong—that is your name, right?"
The gorilla growled low in warning. His muscles tensed despite obvious injuries, and his intelligent eyes showed wariness mixed with recognition. He'd seen her before—near the golden intruder. But this was their first direct interaction.
He didn't lower his guard, but he was listening.
"Easy there, big guy. I'm not here to fight you. I'm here to help." She gestured at the circling Skullcrawlers. "Let's deal with these things first. Then we talk. Sound fair?"
Kong studied her for a long moment, then grunted in acknowledgment. He turned his attention to the common enemy, accepting the temporary alliance born of necessity.
Kara's smile faded as she faced the swarm, her expression turning cold. She channeled her ki, letting it rise steadily before flaring outward in a golden wave. The oppressive pressure washed over the Skullcrawlers, forcing several to the ground.
"Right." Her cold gaze swept across them, eyes glinting gold in the fading light. "Here's how this is gonna go. I've had an incredibly long, frustrating two months. I'm stressed, I'm tired, and honestly? I'm not in the mood to deal with you ugly bastards." She let the silence hang for a moment. "So here's the deal—you've got exactly three seconds to turn around and leave before I start getting creative. This is your only warning."
She paused, observing their reactions.
"One..."
The Skullcrawlers hissed and snarled, shaking their heads against the oppressive pressure. One by one, they regained their focus, driven by hunger and pack instinct.
"Two..."
They stepped forward, jaws snapping, refusing to abandon their wounded prey.
"Three."
She vanished.
BOOM!
A thunderous sonic boom echoed across the crater as a Skullcrawler exploded, its body pulverized by her fist moving at hypersonic velocity. Blood and viscera painted the ground where it had stood.
Weeks of recovery had restored roughly seventy percent of her capacity. Though she still couldn't fly or use her most powerful techniques, she was more than fast enough to move beyond what normal eyes could track—and more than strong enough to deal with these creatures.
BOOM!
She reappeared beside another creature, her palm strike caving in its skull before it could even register her presence. She moved like lightning incarnate through the swarm, golden sparks trailing in her wake. Each appearance marked by another thunderous boom. Each boom followed by another Skullcrawler falling.
Her time on this island had forced her to adapt. Reduced power meant she'd had to refine her ki control, eliminate wasted movement, sharpen her technique in ways she'd never needed before at full strength. Every movement now carried purpose. Every strike landed with calculated efficiency. No wasted motion. No excessive force. Just pure, disciplined combat honed by necessity.
What she'd lost in raw power, she'd gained in precision and skill. Her energy usage was optimized through countless survival battles. Against enemies like these—fast and vicious, but ultimately outclassed—precision mattered far more than overwhelming strength.
These Skullcrawlers never stood a chance.
Kong joined the battle with renewed vigor. Together, they systematically eliminated the swarm.
Minutes later, only stragglers remained. These survivors, watching their pack decimated, finally chose to leave. They fled into underground tunnels.
Kara and Kong stood among the carnage, studying each other for a long moment.
"You're welcome," Kara said, keeping a respectful distance. "Though I'm pretty sure you could've handled them on your own. Would've cost you a few more scars, but you'd have made it."
Kong snorted grudgingly and began pushing himself upright, refusing to show weakness.
"Easy there, big guy." Kara raised both hands, palms out. "I'm not here to fight you. You're the toughest thing I've seen on this island—but you just tangled with my golden friend, something way out of your league, and before you could even recover, those Skullcrawlers—" She paused, pointing at the dead monsters sprawled on the ground. "—came at you. Your body needs rest."
Kong straightened despite the pain, towering over her. His eyes narrowed, studying her—trying to determine if she posed a threat.
'He really does understand me,' Kara realized, a small smile crossing her face. She held his gaze and continued speaking.
"My name is Kara," she said, pointing to herself before gesturing toward where the golden Oozaru had disappeared. "That golden ape—he's with me. He's my friend, my companion. Right now, he's lost. Trapped in that transformation. He doesn't remember who he is, can't control himself. I'm trying to help him come back."
Kong tilted his head, processing her words. He didn't fully grasp the part about being "lost in a transformation," but he understood enough. After a moment, he pointed at her, then gestured emphatically toward where the golden intruder had vanished—as if asking, You're with him?
"Yes, we're together," Kara confirmed with a nod. "But we're not invaders. We didn't come here to fight you or claim your territory. We crashed here by accident. Once I can bring him back to himself, we'll leave. Your island is yours. We have no interest in taking it from you."
Kong studied her for a long moment, searching for deception. Finding none, he nodded slowly. He didn't fully trust her—but after she'd just helped him, he would give her a chance. His gaze drifted to the dead Skullcrawlers.
"You've got your own battles," Kara said quietly, following his gaze. "This island needs its guardian." She stepped into his line of sight, meeting his eyes directly. "But Kong? Don't challenge Orach again. What you felt today was a fraction of his power. If he'd wanted you dead, you would be."
Kong held her gaze, pride flaring in his chest despite his injuries. He didn't fully understand her meaning, but he understood enough. The memory of that pressure and being helpless against it tempered his instinct to challenge her claim. Finally, he grunted once in acknowledgment. He'd return to what he knew, protecting his island from threats he could actually fight.
But something burned in his eyes—a promise to himself. Get stronger. Then try again.
"You want a rematch eventually, don't you?" Kara sighed, reading him perfectly. "Look, I get it. You're the king, the protector. This is your home, and he's a powerful intruder. But Kong—Orach doesn't just outclass you. He operates on a completely different level. Fighting him again gets you killed. And this island needs its king alive."
Kong's eyes remained fixed, burning with determination.
"Stubborn. Why is every powerful being I meet impossibly stubborn?"
"Perhaps you attract that personality type," Mother Empress suggested dryly.
"Not helping." Kara paused, her expression shifting. 'Wait... maybe this actually works for us.'
She approached Kong carefully, activating her suit's scanners to assess the damage. Cracked ribs, severe bruising, dislocated shoulder, countless lacerations. She pulled medical supplies from her terminal space.
"How about this," Kara said, beginning to dress his wounds. Kong tensed but allowed it, watching her closely. "If you're dead-set on trying again—and you clearly are—let me help you prepare. I'll teach you techniques that might give you a real shot at landing one solid hit." She paused, meeting his gaze. "But understand this—you can't win. Not against him. Still, maybe you'll learn something that helps you protect this island better."
Kong processed this, studying her intent. Sensing no deception, he nodded slowly.
"Good. Now hold still—I need to reset your shoulder." She leaped onto his arm. "Fair warning, this'll hurt."
She popped it back into place. Kong roared briefly, then shot her a look of clear grievance.
"Oh, don't give me that look, you big baby. I warned you." She smirked. "Now stop sulking and test it."
Kong stood carefully and rotated his arm. Finding it functional, his expression softened.
"See? Told you I was helping. We start training tomorrow—meet me here at dawn. But today, you rest. Doctor's orders."
Kong considered for a moment, then nodded. He snorted once and began limping back toward his territory.
"You've made an interesting ally," Mother Empress observed.
"I know," Kara replied, watching him go. "Now I'm responsible for two stubborn alpha males—each with their own pride. What could possibly go wrong?"
"I assume that was rhetorical. But do you truly believe that creature can help us restore young master's consciousness?" Mother Empress asked.
"You caught me." Kara raised her hands in mock surrender. "Yeah, I'm planning to use Kong. A little unfair to him, I admit. But Saiyans respond to combat—to challenges, to a warrior's spirit, to opponents who refuse to stay down. If I can train Kong to embody that spirit, to become a real challenge... it might trigger something in Orach. Remind him of what he is beneath the beast."
"The probability of success is low. Kong will likely be killed before we achieve any breakthrough. Saiyans in Oozaru form rarely respond to anything except overwhelming force or having their tails severed," warned Mother Empress.
"I know the odds." Kara's expression sobered. "But I have to try. And if Kong's willing—if he wants this badly enough—I'll give him every advantage." She flexed her hand, watching golden energy flicker around her fingers. "Besides, the training helps my recovery too. He's a perfect sparring partner for me right now."
"Understood. I wish you success."
As Kong disappeared into the jungle, Kara glanced skyward. The drones had captured everything. Somewhere on this island, an observer had just witnessed it all.
At least, they had until the feed cut out.
Mother Empress was already working in the background, ensuring their secrets stayed hidden.
"Mother Empress, how much access do you have to Monarch's network?"
"I've gained full access to their local systems and their central database. Effectively, I have access to this world's entire data infrastructure."
"Good. Can you locate their outpost?"
"I can guide you there directly. However, I must advise against revealing yourself—you haven't fully recovered yet." Mother Empress paused. "Allow me to run interference instead. I'll divert their attention from both you and the young master. Their drones won't track your movements, and any compromising data from today's events will be corrupted or manipulated."
"I've already edited you out of their recordings," she continued. "The modified footage now shows Kong defeating the Skullcrawlers alone. To Monarch, this will appear as nothing more than a territorial dispute that Kong resolved on his own."
Kara weighed her options. "Alright. That's smart. Let's head back to camp. I want to review everything you've collected on this world. Time we understood exactly where we are and what we're dealing with."
"Agreed. Downloading files to your terminal now."
As Kara moved through the jungle, her mind raced. She had an ally now, valuable intelligence about the outside world, and a plan to reach Orach—however risky.
It wasn't much. But it was more than she'd had yesterday.
Over the following days, Kara met Kong at the training grounds each morning. After the first few days of improving their communication, they naturally fell into a rhythm. His weaknesses had been painfully obvious in his fights with Orach and the Skullcrawlers—he fought on pure instinct and brute strength, with no real technique. Watching him practice now, determined to improve, reminded her of her younger self—the one who, after being rescued, had promised to get stronger.
She'd grown complacent after leaving the Void Sentinel. Life on Earth had convinced her that raw power was enough, that she could ease up on training. Instead, she'd spent her time exploring, making friends, living life beyond her training. But the recent fight with Citro, and now struggling to survive on this island while weakened, forced her to confront that mistake. Her determination reignited, burning hotter than before. She couldn't afford to slack off—and neither could Kong.
As she trained him, Kara made herself a promise: she would make him strong enough to survive whatever threats came his way—strong enough that if he made it through her plan and Orach's rampage, he could protect himself.
She'd reviewed Mother Empress's compiled data on this world. While Kong was the alpha—the "king" of Skull Island—there was another creature in the outside world who was, in some respects, even more dangerous. According to Monarch's notes, this monster called Godzilla only attacked when provoked. It had even saved lives, whether intentionally or not, and was widely seen as a protector of sorts, a guardian beast.
She remained skeptical about whether it matched Kong's intelligence, but the reports were clear on one assessment: that creature was also a "king," and if these two ever met, a clash would be inevitable.
Her initial goal had been simple—train Kong just enough to buy time to reach Orach or create an opening to sever the tail. But watching him absorb her teachings with such fierce determination made her want more. She wanted to train him properly.
Today she began teaching him correct posture and fundamental techniques, building on the days of conditioning exercises that had prepared his body.
"You're strong," she said, beginning to circle him, forcing Kong to pivot and track her movement. "But strength alone won't save you against opponents who outclass you. You need to be smarter. Faster. More efficient."
Kong snorted skeptically. He gestured at himself, then flexed—as if to say, "I already am."
"Oh yeah?" Kara stopped and met his eyes. "Yesterday, those Skullcrawlers weren't individually strong. But they almost overwhelmed you—went after your wounds, forced you to waste energy defending yourself. Without me, you might've won, but you'd have been barely alive."
Kong's expression darkened as he recalled the Skullcrawlers that had tried attacking him again over the past few days. He didn't argue. The memory was proof enough.
"That's what I thought." Her tone softened. "You fight like a brawler—all power, no technique. It works against most threats here. But against something like Orach? You need to evolve."
She gestured for him to attack. "Now, come at me and don't hold back."
Kong hesitated, then charged. His fist came down hard.
Kara stepped aside easily, the strike missing by inches. "Too slow. You pulled back too far. I knew what you'd do before you even moved."
Kong spun, swiping with his other hand. Kara ducked beneath it, tapping his extended arm as it sailed overhead.
"You're off-balance and reaching too far. An enemy would break that arm and knock you down."
Frustration flashed across his face. He roared and launched a combination—left jab, right hook, overhead smash. Each strike carried enough force to shatter rocks.
Kara weaved through them easily, not even using her full speed. "Too predictable. Getting angry makes it worse."
Kong stopped, breathing hard, glaring at her.
"Feel that anger?" Kara met his gaze. "That's what you need to control. You're used to being the biggest and strongest. But that means nothing if you can't hit your target. We're going to fix that."
She turned toward the trees, studying them for a moment before beginning. "Lesson one: don't waste movement. Every action should have a purpose—no extra motion, no telegraphing your intent. Watch."
Kara approached a massive tree, roughly three meters wide. Without warning, her fist snapped forward in a tight, quick motion.
CRACK
The tree exploded from the impact point, splinters erupting outward as the trunk shattered. It toppled slowly, crashing into the jungle with a huge boom.
Kong's eyes went wide.
"Minimal movement, maximum effect. That's the principle." Kara turned back to him. "Your turn. Hit that tree—but efficiently. Don't pull back so much. Just strike."
Kong walked to another tree, studying it. He pulled his fist back—
"No." Kara's voice stopped him. "I said don't pull back. Keep your arm close until the last second. Like a snake—coiled tight, then explosive."
Kong adjusted, barely pulling back. Then he struck.
The tree cracked deeply but didn't shatter. Kong grunted in frustration.
"Better," Kara encouraged. "You're learning. Again. Faster this time."
Kong learned quickly. He grasped concepts with surprising speed, adjusted his technique on the spot, and asked questions through gestures whenever he was confused.
By midday, Kara called a break. Kong dropped to the ground, exhausted but satisfied with his progress.
"You're doing good," Kara said, tossing him fruit she'd gathered. "Tomorrow we work on defense. You're still too easy to hit."
Kong caught the fruit one-handed and ate, never taking his eyes off her. After a moment, he pointed toward the direction where Orach had gone the day before. Orach had been nearby then, seemingly hunting, but had only snorted dismissively at Kong before walking away. Kara, hidden in the shadows and watching to see if Kong would keep his word, had simply smiled wryly as Orach left while Kong's expression grew annoyed.
"You want to know about him?" Kara sat on a boulder. "Orach is… complicated. He's a Saiyan—a warrior race from far, far away." She saw his confusion and smiled slightly. "Don't worry about the details. What matters is we crashed here by accident. That golden form you saw? It's a transformation, but it takes away his control. He becomes a beast of pure instinct—violent and destructive instinct."
Kong tilted his head, processing.
"The real Orach is nothing like that. He's disciplined, honorable—fights with purpose, not mindless rage." Kara's expression softened. "He's also my savior. My friend. One of the few people I trust and… respect. That's why I have to bring him back."
Kong grunted thoughtfully, then pointed at her, at himself, and gestured—training.
"You're asking if this will help you fight him?" Kara met his eyes honestly. "Truthfully? Probably not. Even if you master everything I teach you, even if you get twice as fast and way more skilled… he's still on a completely different level. The gap is just too big."
Kong's expression fell.
"But," Kara said quickly, "that doesn't mean this is pointless. You'll become a better fighter. You'll protect this island more effectively. And maybe—just maybe—you'll land one solid hit when you face him again. Make him see you as a warrior, not just another beast, when he regains himself. For someone like Orach, that matters."
Kong considered her words carefully. He didn't understand everything she'd said, but he grasped what mattered most—she was being honest with him. He nodded slowly. Not the answer he'd hoped for, but he could work with honesty.
"Besides," Kara added with a slight smirk, "training you helps me sharpen my own skills while I recover. We're helping each other. Fair deal?"
Kong snorted and nodded again.
After another hour of rest, they went back to training. As the day went on, Kara found herself actually enjoying this. Kong's drive, his refusal to give up, that burning need to get stronger—it reminded her why she became a warrior. His warrior spirit gave her hope he might create the opening she needed.
"Maybe this will actually work," she thought, watching Kong execute a much better combo.
In the distance, hidden among dense trees, red eyes watched the training session with primal curiosity. The Golden Oozaru remained perfectly still. He'd grown curious about where the small creature who told him stories kept disappearing to. Now, observing her training with the being he'd so easily defeated, he felt a flicker of irritation—as if a toy had been taken from him.
But beyond that possessive annoyance, something about their movements, their rhythm, stirred something buried deep in his fogged-up mind. A fragment of memory, too distant to fully grasp but persistent enough to hold his attention.
He clutched his head and shook it violently, frustrated he couldn't break through the mental fog. The more frustrated he became, the hotter his blood ran, rage building like pressure in a sealed container. He released low, rumbling growls, baring his fangs, then suddenly launched himself in another direction, seeking prey to vent his fury on.
Soon, distant screams echoed from another region of the island.