The world didn't burn all at once.
It smoldered. Slowly.
At first, Seventeen and Eighteen didn't even think of ruling. They thought of roaming. A stolen bike here. A hijacked car there. They tore through cities like a storm — sometimes violent, sometimes playful. One day, they demolished a military base just because it fired a warning shot. The next, they lounged on a beach, watching the ocean swallow the sun, as if destruction and leisure were the same thing.
Seventeen liked speed — he'd steal cars, trains, even planes, only to wreck them when he got bored. Eighteen liked elegance — expensive dresses, jewelry, the thrill of walking into a store and taking whatever she wanted. Neither of them cared about money. It was the act. The freedom.
When cities resisted, they leveled them. When people begged, sometimes they let them live, sometimes they didn't. It wasn't cruelty for cruelty's sake. It was coin-flip whimsy.
Sixteen followed. Always behind them. Always silent. Sometimes he'd intervene — not to protect humans, but to stop his siblings from wasting time. "Pointless," he would say, when Seventeen razed an amusement park for laughs. "No data."
But he never stopped them entirely. And that silence was permission enough.
News spread quickly: the Androids were gods of death walking the Earth. Armies tried and failed. Nations crumbled without even being targeted. Humanity hid in bunkers and whispered their names like curses.
Yet even amid the terror, a strange rhythm emerged. Seventeen wasn't mindless. He didn't want a world of ashes. Ashes were boring. So, they made rules. Their rules.
"No armies."
"No governments."
"No kings."
Only the Androids.
They didn't sit on thrones. They didn't need to. The mere sight of them was rule enough. Humanity bent, because humanity wanted to survive. And the Androids, amused, allowed it.
But whispers still stirred.
Not everyone bent the knee.
Deep beneath the ruins of the world, the Z-Warriors plotted.
Bulma's brilliance, Piccolo's patience, Gohan's fire. They had tracked the Androids, not through ki — there was none to track — but through scars left on the Earth. A crater where a city once stood. A field of glass where once there were forests. Piece by piece, they stitched together a map of destruction.
And at the end of that map… the Androids.
They found them at dusk.
The twins lounged on the roof of a half-collapsed skyscraper, Seventeen sprawled with his boots on the ledge, Eighteen polishing her nails. Sixteen stood nearby, watching the horizon where the last light bled into night.
"Finally," Seventeen muttered, eyes flicking down to the street below. "Guests."
The Z-Warriors emerged from the shadows — Gohan, hair golden, eyes blazing; Vegeta, scowling with that pride that never died; Goku, face hard, his usual warmth buried beneath the weight of what had been lost. Beside them stood Piccolo, Krillin, Tien, Yamcha — tired but burning with fury.
The street groaned under their steps.
Eighteen smiled thinly. "Took you long enough."
The silence between them crackled, heavy as thunder.
And then Seventeen stood, stretching lazily, as if this wasn't the confrontation the world had been waiting for. "Well then," he said. "Let's see what all the fuss about Saiyans really is."
The night split in two —
They were waiting.
Seventeen's eyes gleamed when he saw the golden light below. He sat up straighter, grin cutting across his face. "Well, well. The ghosts finally decided to crawl out of hiding."
Eighteen crossed one leg over the other, her lips curling just slightly. "Took them long enough. I was starting to think the mighty Saiyans had finally accepted the new order."
The Z-Warriors lined up in the street. Goku, aura already simmering, his face stripped of that old softness — now carved with grim resolve. Beside him, Vegeta, jaw set, arms trembling with the thrill of finally seeing the enemy who had ruined his pride. Gohan stood in front of them, aura flaring brighter than either, the weight of vengeance burning in his single, unblinking stare.
Behind them were Piccolo, silent and sharp, Krillin's fists clenched too tightly, Tien's eyes narrowed with focus, Yamcha swallowing his nerves, and even Yajirobe, teeth gritted though fear stained his every breath.
They had come. All of them.
Seventeen rose to his feet and spread his arms as though welcoming old friends to a party. "So, which one of you is going to beg first? I'm curious."
Vegeta's aura crackled violently as he stepped forward. "Beg? You're the ones who should be on your knees. You've slaughtered our people, poisoned our world, and mocked our power. You're machines — toys. And tonight you're scrap."
Eighteen laughed softly, resting her chin in her hand. "You Saiyans and your pride. Always so dramatic. You talk like kings, but look around you. Where's your kingdom? Where are your people?"
She gestured lazily to the ruins around them. "Dust. That's all you ever were. Dust waiting to be blown away."
Gohan's voice cut through the air, sharper than Vegeta's rage. "Don't you dare speak of my people. You murdered them. You took lives because it amused you. That's not strength — that's cowardice."
Seventeen tilted his head. "Cowardice? You think we do this because we're afraid? We do it because it's the only logical end. Humans destroy themselves. Saiyans destroy everything. Why wait for your species to implode when we can clean the slate?"
Piccolo finally spoke, voice low, gravelly, dangerous. "You call it logic. I call it genocide."
For the first time, Sixteen moved. His voice was calm, steady, but heavy. "Species consume. War is inevitable. Doctor Gero understood this. To end the cycle, life itself must be… corrected."
Krillin's voice cracked as he shouted up at them. "Corrected?! You killed my wife! You killed my friends! You turned the world into a graveyard!" His fists trembled, aura flaring weakly. "How is that correction?!"
Eighteen's eyes flickered, just for a heartbeat. But then she smirked again. "Correction is ugly. But necessary. We're not here to debate ethics. We're here to finish what we started."
Vegeta snarled. "Enough talk. You want to see what necessity looks like? I'll show you—"
But Goku lifted a hand, stopping him. His voice was low but firm. "Wait."
His eyes locked on Seventeen's, then slid to Eighteen's, then Sixteen's. "I want to know one thing before this fight begins." His aura pulsed, the ground beneath him cracking. "Did you ever feel it? Even once? Guilt? Regret?"
For a moment, silence ruled. Dust fell like snow.
Seventeen's grin faltered into something flatter, darker. "Regret? No. We don't waste time with useless feelings."
But his voice carried a tension that betrayed him.
Eighteen said nothing, but her eyes narrowed — sharp, defensive.
And Sixteen… Sixteen's gaze drifted to the ground, to the broken trees growing through the concrete. "Regret… yes." His voice was heavy as a tombstone. "Every bird. Every tree. Every life."
Eighteen whipped her head toward him. "Sixteen."
But he didn't stop. "But regret does not change function. We are what we are. And you —" His glowing eyes turned on Goku, on Vegeta, on Gohan. "—are obstacles to function."
The Z-Warriors' auras ignited all at once, gold fire tearing open the street. The ruins quaked under the pressure of so many warriors standing shoulder to shoulder.
Seventeen smiled again, teeth sharp in the twilight. "Finally. The fun part."
Vegeta Launched foward, snarled and unleashed a storm of blows, each one a blur of golden fists. Seventeen swayed, blocked, parried — not with desperation, but with the lazy precision of someone *studying*. Every strike was recorded, calculated, archived for weakness.
"Too linear," he said coldly, driving his knee into Vegeta's gut. The prince spat blood, eyes widening, but roared back and answered with a point-blank blast that engulfed them both.
The city block disappeared in fire.
Eighteen had already moved. She slid down the building in a graceful fall, landing in front of Gohan. Her eyes narrowed as she sized him up. "You've got fire in you. Let's see how long it burns."
Gohan charged. His fists cracked like thunder, his speed far beyond the child she once remembered. She matched him strike for strike, her every movement precise, efficient. Sparks lit the air as knuckles met, as blocks slid into counters.
"You're strong," she admitted, her lips curving. "Stronger than most. But strength without endurance is just noise."
Gohan's aura flared, shoving her back. His single eye burned with vengeance. "I'll make sure you feel this noise."
He hammered her with a flurry of blows that shook the earth, golden light searing through the ruins. She blocked most, deflected some, but a fist slipped through, cracking her jaw. Her head snapped sideways, blood spattering.
Her smirk returned. "Good. This might actually be fun."
Meanwhile, Goku faced Sixteen.
The giant moved slower than the others, but when his fist came down, the ground caved in as though mountains had collided. Goku dodged, his body flickering with afterimages, but every near miss shook his bones.
"You fight like a soldier," Goku said, panting as he weaved. "Straightforward. Relentless."
Sixteen's eyes glowed faintly. "Purpose defines style." He swung again, and Goku met it with both palms, skidding across the shattered street, arms trembling under the sheer weight of it.
They clashed again and again, Goku's speed against Sixteen's raw power. Each impact sent shockwaves ripping through the city.
The others dove in. Piccolo's Special Beam Cannon ripped across the battlefield, forcing Eighteen to twist aside. Tien's Tri-Beam collapsed a tower onto Seventeen, who burst through the rubble laughing. Krillin and Yamcha peppered them with blasts, buying seconds where seconds meant survival.
For a moment — just a moment — it looked like the Z-Warriors had the upper hand.
Gohan drove Eighteen through three buildings. Vegeta's Final Flash engulfed Seventeen in a sea of light. Goku hammered Sixteen's jaw with a blow that cracked steel plating.
The Androids staggered.
Breathing hard, battered, the Saiyans regrouped in the cratered street. Golden auras flared together, defiance burning in their eyes.
"This is it," Gohan said, teeth bared. "We can end it now."
Vegeta spat blood and grinned savagely. "Then let's finish it."
They surged as one — three golden comets screaming toward their prey.
And that was when the Androids stopped holding back.
Seventeen burst from the smoke of the Final Flash, his clothes torn, his grin wider than ever. He met Vegeta's charge head-on, absorbing the punch into his chest before driving an elbow into the prince's ribs. Something cracked.
"You thought that hurt me?" Seventeen sneered, his voice low and dangerous. "You just gave me more data."
Eighteen caught Gohan's fist mid-strike. She twisted, breaking his arm at the elbow, then kicked him into the side of a building. His scream cut the night.
Sixteen let Goku's Kamehameha crash into his chest. The blast scorched his armor, burned the ground to glass… and then faded. He stepped forward through the smoke, unscathed. His fist slammed into Goku's stomach, folding him in half and hurling him through the ruins like a ragdoll.
The balance had shifted.
The Z-Warriors realized it in an instant: these weren't enemies you could exhaust. These weren't fighters who grew tired or weakened with time. Every second the fight dragged on, the Androids grew more precise. More efficient.
And the golden flames of the Saiyans began to flicker.
---
The crater smoked around them. The Z-Warriors staggered to their feet, blood dripping, breath ragged. And yet Vegeta stood straighter than the rest, fury boiling in his veins. His pride, the same pride that had carried him through every battlefield, would not let him fall here.
"Pathetic," Seventeen taunted, brushing rubble from his shoulders. "Is this really all Saiyans have to offer?"
Vegeta's aura flared violently, brighter than before. He hunched forward, veins bulging across his temples as he forced power through every fiber of his being. The air trembled, the ground cracked, and for a moment it was as though the Earth itself recoiled.
His muscles swelled, arms and legs bulking with raw strength. His golden hair spiked sharper, his aura screaming upward like a burning pillar. The others shielded their eyes from the blinding light.
Piccolo's jaw tightened. "That form… he's increasing power at the cost of speed. It's dangerous."
But Goku's eyes widened. "No… it's more than that. He's found another path."
Seventeen tilted his head, smirk faltering just slightly as the shockwaves washed over him. "What the hell is this?"
Vegeta raised his head, a savage grin tearing across his face. His voice thundered like an earthquake.
"This… is power beyond a Super Saiyan!"
In an instant, he vanished. His bulk should have slowed him, but his aura screamed with such intensity that his speed held — barely. He appeared in front of Seventeen, fist slamming into his chest with the force of a meteor. The Android's eyes widened as he was hurled through three buildings, stone exploding in every direction.
Before he could recover, Vegeta was there again, hammering him down with both fists clasped together. The impact cratered the Earth, shockwaves tearing through the ruins.
Eighteen darted forward to intercept, but Vegeta's elbow caught her mid-charge, sending her spinning across the street, blood spraying from her lip.
Even Sixteen staggered as Vegeta roared and blasted him point-blank, the beam tearing half his armor away.
The Z-Warriors watched in awe. For the first time, the Androids were on the back foot.
Gohan's single eye blazed with hope. "He's doing it… Vegeta's actually pushing them back!"
Goku clenched his fists, a fierce smile breaking through his pain. "That's it, Vegeta… show them what a Saiyan really is!"
Vegeta stood in the center of the ruin, chest heaving, aura raging like an inferno. His pride was alive again, burning in every word he spat.
"You thought you could rule over Saiyans? You thought you could enslave this planet?!" His laugh was cruel, wild, desperate. "We are warriors! You are nothing but tools — and tonight, tools break!"
He blurred forward again, smashing Seventeen into the ground, hammering Eighteen into a wall, slamming his fists against Sixteen's armored chest again and again until cracks splintered across the plating.
For a brief, glorious moment, the battlefield belonged to the Saiyans.
But then… the cracks appeared elsewhere.
Vegeta's breaths grew shorter. His movements, slower. His aura, once a raging storm, began to sputter. The bulk of his body weighed him down, each motion costing more energy than the last. His arms shook from strain.
Seventeen wiped blood from his lip, grinning through the pain. "I see… so that's your trick. Trade speed for strength. Clever…" He rose, eyes glinting. "…but flawed."
Eighteen stood, brushing rubble from her hair. "You look exhausted, Prince."
Vegeta roared, hurling himself at them again. His punch connected with Seventeen's jaw — but slower. Sloppy. Seventeen caught the follow-up, twisting Vegeta's arm behind his back.
Vegeta growled, trying to break free, but Eighteen's knee slammed into his ribs, the crack audible across the battlefield.
Sixteen stepped forward, his massive fist colliding with Vegeta's stomach. The prince coughed blood, the light flickering in his aura.
He staggered, dropping to one knee. His golden hair dimmed, muscles trembling under the crushing weight of his own power.
"Damn it… not here… not now…" His voice was hoarse, broken.
Seventeen leaned down, smirking, his voice a venomous whisper. "Looks like the battery ran out."
And with one casual backhand, Vegeta was sent crashing into the ruins, golden light extinguished.
The hope flickered.
The Z-Warriors' faces froze, horror dawning as the realization struck them. Their strongest push had failed. Vegeta had given everything — and the Androids still stood.
And they were smiling.