Beerus didn't speak at first. His gaze swept across the emptiness where a galaxy should have been. His tail lashed once, sharp and angry.
Finally, he looked at Broly.
"You," Beerus said. His voice was calm, but there was steel under it. "What did you do?"
Broly's head lifted slowly. His emerald hair glowed faintly in the dark, his aura reduced to a quiet flicker—but his eyes, cold and distant, locked onto Beerus with the weight of a predator recognizing another.
He didn't answer.
Whis floated forward, tone polite as always, but his words edged with concern. "Lord Beerus, this isn't merely a planetary wipe. This mortal has erased a galaxy in seconds, destabilizing neighboring structures. If left unchecked, the damage could spread."
Beerus raised a hand. "I didn't ask for your lecture, Whis. I asked him."
Broly's lips moved. His voice was deep, hoarse, almost broken."…He wasn't strong enough."
Beerus blinked. "He?"
Broly's fists tightened, veins bulging across his forearms. "The pink one. I thought he would… finally… finally be the fight I wanted." His teeth clenched, the sound grating like stone. "But he wasn't. None of them are."
The void seemed to chill. Beerus's golden eyes narrowed, his tail curling around his waist.
"You destroyed a galaxy because you were bored?"
Broly tilted his head, confusion flashing briefly across his face. He almost looked like a child caught doing something wrong, but the aura around him betrayed no innocence. Only chaos restrained by threads.
"…I was hungry." (quite hypocritical from beerus lol)
That one word made Beerus pause.
Whis's smile didn't change. "Hunger. Yes, I see. The difference between you and my lord, Broly, is simple. Beerus destroys with purpose. You destroy because you cannot help it. You are not destruction." His eyes sharpened faintly, the first hint of seriousness. "You are decay."
Broly's body shifted. His aura stirred, licking at the void like green fire. His shoulders rolled, the muscles of his arms twitching. He didn't understand Whis's words. He didn't want to. He only wanted one thing.
Beerus saw it too. His tail lashed once, sharp as a whip. "You're not listening, are you?"
Broly's breathing deepened. His fists tightened. His emerald aura sparked into violent flames, climbing higher.
"…Fight me."
Beerus didn't move. His eyes narrowed, his arms still folded. "No."
That word hit Broly harder than any punch. His teeth ground. His breath turned to snarls. His aura exploded outward, emerald lightning carving cracks in the void itself. The Legendary Saiyan shook with power, hair spiking further, flames roaring across him until the void was swallowed by the light of Legendary Super Saiyan 3.
The silence ended with a roar — one so primal it made even dead stars tremble. Broly's fist drew back, veins bursting across his arms, aura tearing reality as it swelled. He lunged, faster than light, the punch carrying every ounce of his restless rage—
—And stopped.
The staff touched the void.
Whis didn't swing it. He didn't strike. He simply placed the crystal tip before Broly's chest. The green giant froze mid-lunge, his fist inches from Beerus's face. His eyes bulged with fury, but his body refused to move.
Beerus hadn't flinched. His arms remained folded. His gaze bored into Broly with contempt. "Pathetic."
Whis's eyes narrowed faintly. He turned the staff half an inch. A ripple surged outward, soft as a breeze, invisible but absolute. Broly's aura cracked, shattered, then collapsed inward. His scream died in his throat, his limbs falling limp.
His emerald flames extinguished. His massive frame shrank, hair dropping back into black. In a blink, the Legendary Saiyan hung weightless in base form, unconscious, drifting like a broken weapon in the void.
Whis exhaled softly. "There we are."
Beerus glared down at him, tail flicking. "…You didn't even let me test him."
Whis's polite smile returned, faint but deliberate. "Because you already know the result, my lord. Even if he resisted for moments, even if he shocked us, the outcome is inevitable. He cannot win against you. Not yet."
Beerus's scowl lingered, but his gaze slid back to Broly's unconscious body. His claw flexed once, briefly, as if tempted to erase him with a thought.
Whis noticed. "Leave him. His role isn't done. Not in this story. If the Grand Priest sees use in him, why not let him dance a little longer?"
Beerus growled low, but he turned away. "Fine. But I don't like it."
The gods vanished into light, leaving the void silent again.
The sound of Broly's boots echoed like thunderclaps through the vast marble corridor. Each step shook the torches fixed to the walls, flames hissing under the pressure of his presence. He didn't speak, didn't even glance at the doorways of the other timelines' chambers. He simply walked, massive shoulders sloped, emerald eyes vacant but heavy, as if staring through the walls into something far beyond.
The silence that followed him wasn't natural. Warriors from other rooms hushed instinctively as his shadow crossed the threshold of their doors. Even the arrogant ones—the Saiyan Empire brutes, the laughing Frieza Force soldiers, the smirking Androids—fell quiet when Broly passed. Not out of respect. Out of survival.
Inside Timeline 1's chamber, Goku's brow furrowed, his eyes tracking the slow, steady vibrations. "That ki…" He whispered, voice low enough only Piccolo heard.
Piccolo's antennae twitched. He didn't even open his eyes. "It isn't ki. It's something else."
Future Gohan's one eye narrowed. He had fought Frieza, seen Cell's terror, stared into death more than once. But that sound, that feeling? It was worse. "That… isn't someone you can reason with."
Trunks swallowed hard. His hand drifted instinctively toward his sword, though the gesture meant nothing here.
And then, as if timed by fate, the intercom crackled above.
The Announcement
"WARRIORS OF ALL TIMELINES!"
The announcer's voice boomed, no longer cheerful but solemn, carrying over the entire colosseum. "THE TWO-HOUR INTERVAL HAS ENDED! ALL SURVIVING FIGHTERS—RETURN TO THE STAGE!"
The walls vibrated with the sound, the command not just words but infused with divine magic. Even those reluctant to rise found their bodies pulled toward the arena by the weight of duty.
Broly stopped mid-stride. His eyes flickered upward at the voice. For a moment, his lips parted. Then he closed them, grunting low in his throat. He turned, slow as a mountain pivoting, and began walking toward the blinding white archway that led to the battlefield.
The Tournament was resuming.
Above the battlefield, the stands shimmered with light as mortals, gods, and spirits flowed back into their seats. The break had been more than rest—it had been gossip, debates, wagers. Now, the entire crowd surged with fresh noise, banners waving, voices clashing like waves. The air was electric.
The gods of destruction lined their balconies, each flanked by their angels. Beers of Timeline 1 tapped a claw against the railing, expression flat but eyes sharp. Champa munched noisily on a plate of meats, while Quitela grinned slyly at the sight of nervous mortals gathering below. Some gods whispered among themselves. Others simply glared at the arena, silently weighing the warriors against their universes' survival.
Farther up, family and friends who had survived sat tensely. Videl's hand gripped her stomach as if to shield the unborn life inside. Chi-Chi sat with lips pressed tight, watching her husband-but-not-husband among the crowd. Future Bulma leaned forward, chewing her lip, her mind racing through possibilities no mortal should have to imagine.
The arena was alive again.
The fighters assembled at the backstage staging grounds, a colossal stone platform lined with twelve golden arches, each carved with their timeline's sigil. It wasn't just a waiting room—it was a place where history, hatred, and destiny collided.
One by one, the timelines arrived.
Timeline 1 – The Main Z Fighters
Goku was the first to step out, stretching his arms overhead with a grin far too casual for the weight of the moment. "Man, that was a good nap. You guys feel ready?"
Vegeta shot him a glare sharp enough to cut steel. His arms were folded so tightly his muscles looked like stone cords, jaw clenched. "This isn't a sparring match, Kakarot. Stop acting like a fool."
Future Gohan didn't join the argument. He lingered behind, his lone eye scanning the gathering fighters with the cold precision of a general. Every aura, every shift in posture — he catalogued it, filing away threats and weaknesses.
Trunks tried to lighten the silence, but his voice came out nervous. "We… we're still undefeated so far. That has to mean something, right?"
Uub shuffled on his heels, fists clenched. His eyes darted to the other archways nervously, but then Piccolo's heavy hand fell on his shoulder. The Namek's silence was reassurance enough.
Timeline 2 – Vegito's Line
Vegito arrived with the swagger of someone walking into a festival. Hands behind his head, he whistled as though the roar of the crowd outside was for him alone.
"Tch. Look who thinks this is a game," Vegeta muttered under his breath from Timeline 1, but he didn't shout it.
Piccolo (T2) frowned behind Vegito, arms folded. "Could you take this seriously for once?"
"Relax," Vegito smirked. "I'll get serious when someone worth my time shows up."
Krillin (T2) laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head. "Yeah, uh… hopefully not too soon, right? Heh."
Tien (T2) and Uub (T2) didn't speak, but their eyes darted across the chamber, measuring opponents with quiet intensity. The youngest — Goten and Trunks (T2) — muttered among themselves, jaws tight.
"Taizo got lucky.""Next time, we won't."
Their eyes slid toward the Galaxy Soldiers with a venom they couldn't hide.
Timeline 3 – The Androids
Silence walked in with them.
Android 21 led, heels clicking, her crimson eyes sweeping across the crowd like a predator scanning prey. Her presence was unnerving — not flaring, not obvious, but sharp enough to make warriors shift uncomfortably without realizing why.
Behind her, 16's massive frame loomed, his gaze tilted upward as if searching for skies that weren't here. His silence wasn't empty — it was heavy, almost mournful.
18 followed, scowl cutting across her face. Her posture screamed restraint; her eyes locked on Roshi across the room, jaw tightening at the memory of her earlier loss.
13 cracked his knuckles deliberately, grin too wide, while 19 and 20's glowing eyes swept the chamber with clinical hunger.
"Creeps," Yamcha muttered from Timeline 9, shuddering when 20's gaze lingered on him a second too long.
Timeline 4 – Broly Alone
He didn't enter. He arrived.
The air changed as Broly stepped onto the platform. His sheer size made even seasoned fighters tense. His aura hummed faintly, low and restrained, but heavy — like the atmosphere before a storm. He didn't acknowledge anyone. Didn't glance. Didn't blink. He simply walked until he stood near the center, eyes fixed on the arena doors as if willing them to open sooner.
Trunks leaned toward Future Gohan, whispering, "He… doesn't even look human."
Future Gohan's jaw tightened. "He isn't."
Timeline 5 – The Saiyan Empire
Their laughter arrived before they did.
Rosan strutted in first, laughing loud enough to echo off the marble walls. His voice cracked like glass, sharp and wild. "WHO'S NEXT?! WHO WANTS TO BLEED FOR ME?!"
Bardock followed, silent, his body still trembling from his fight, but his eyes burned with fire.
King Vegeta walked with hands behind his back, smirking proudly. His aura flared faintly, demanding attention without effort. "Pathetic copies. This will be the timeline that reigns supreme."
Ruthless Kakarot stretched his neck, a grin splitting his face as his bloodlust radiated like heat. "Heh. I see me's here too," he said, glaring at Goku (T1). "Soft. Can't wait to rip you apart."
Nappa's booming laugh filled the chamber as he pounded his chest. Raditz cracked his knuckles, smirking with eagerness.
Vegeta (T1) scowled deeper, refusing to even look at his alternate father.
Timeline 6 – Baby Vegito Black
He entered like a shadow — silent, almost unnoticed at first. But the moment his crimson eyes opened, the chamber shifted.
No aura radiated. No ki flared. But everyone felt it. A suffocating pressure, like being watched by a predator that had already chosen where to bite.
He smirked faintly, his gaze sliding over the warriors one by one as if he were weighing butchered meat.
Uub (T1) flinched, unable to hold his stare. Future Gohan's fists clenched. Even Vegito (T2) turned his head slightly, eyes narrowing.
Timeline 7 – The Namekians
Gast's presence was calm, steady, grounding. He strode forward with authority, massive frame dwarfing even Piccolo. His crimson eyes swept the chamber with quiet judgment.
Slug grinned wickedly, licking his lips as his gaze locked onto weaker fighters like prey. Kami frowned, his eyes filled with disgust as they fell on Rosan. Older Dende, armored and worn, followed quietly, though his clenched fists betrayed his fear.
Nail's jaw flexed. His eyes locked on Tien (T9), the sting of his earlier defeat fresh in his pride.
Timeline 8 – The Frieza Empire
Frieza stormed in, trembling with rage. His tail coiled like a whip, golden eyes locked on Future Gohan with venom. "One-armed trash…" he hissed.
King Cold chuckled behind him, voice deep and cruel. "Temper, my son. Rage is useful only when controlled."
Zarbon adjusted his hair, eyes half-lidded as if bored by the chaos around him. Dodoria cracked his fists eagerly, while Captain Ginyu leapt into a ridiculous pose, shouting, "Ginyu Force RULES!"
The collective groan that followed was deafening.
Timeline 9 – Earth's Humans
Roshi entered with his cane, beard hiding a grin, his back straighter than ever. He wasn't just a participant — he was a warrior among legends.
Tien (T9) followed, silent, aura sharp like a blade. Krillin (T9) chuckled nervously as Yamcha puffed his chest out. Chiaotzu hovered near Tien's shoulder, his small eyes darting nervously.
Launch flipped a coin between her fingers, smirking. Yajirobe gnawed loudly on a bone, oblivious to the stares.
"Unbelievable," Vegeta muttered, shaking his head. "This rabble in the same tournament as me?"
But Future Gohan's lips twitched into the faintest smile. "Never underestimate humans."
Timeline 10 – Turles' Crew
Turles spat to the side, glaring straight at Goku. "Mock me with your face again, and I'll bury you."
Taizo strode tall beside him, eager, eyes burning with determination. Bojack sulked at the rear, chained pride dragging him low, while the Galaxy Soldiers whispered among themselves, plotting.
Goten (T2) sneered at Taizo, his jaw tight. "Next time, you're mine."
Taizo smirked in a mocking way in reaction.
Timeline 11 – Cell's Dominion
Perfect Cell was gone. Dabura's stench lingered only in memory. But Majin Buu skipped into the chamber, giggling, his childlike voice echoing as he clapped his hands. "Buu wanna fight again! Buu wanna smash!"
Half the chamber flinched at the sound.
Timeline 12 – The Forgotten
Last came Tapion. Silent. His hand rested lightly on the hilt of his sword, eyes shadowed. He didn't speak. He didn't even look at the others. His presence was calm — too calm. The aura of a man who carried his world's hope and nothing else.
The backstage chamber groaned under the sheer weight of power gathered. Each timeline eyed the other, old grudges flaring, new rivalries simmering. The air was heavy with tension—electric, dangerous, intoxicating.
Some warriors smirked. Some sweated. Others clenched their fists so tight their knuckles split.
Above, the crowd roared. Mortals cheered. Gods whispered. Angels watched with expressionless eyes. The Daishinkan himself stood at the central platform, his staff planted against the floor, his serene smile never wavering.
And then the announcer's voice rang again, sharp and commanding.
"THE TIME HAS COME! THE SECOND BLOCK OF BATTLES BEGINS NOW! THE NEXT BRACKET…"