Perfect Super Saiyan 2 shimmered around him in golden arcs, his hair spiking with a sharper edge, his eyes glowing like twin suns. He was panting, sweat dripping down his face, but the fire in his eyes never wavered.
"I will just keep this form…" he growled, his voice carrying across the battlefield, "…as long as I have to… until I surpass you… myself!"
His gaze snapped—not at Majin Buu, but across the stands. Straight at Future Gohan, the scarred warrior who had been his beacon, his example, his shadow. Future Gohan's one eye widened. For years he had carried the burden of being the strongest defender of Earth in his ruined world. And now… this boy, his younger self, was daring not only to surpass itself, but him.
Future Gohan's lips parted slightly, but no words came. Behind him, Bulma clutched her chest, whispering, "He's… he's aiming for his future self?" Trunks' face was pale, his young heart thundering in awe. Even Piccolo's stern jaw tightened, whispering under his breath, "Gohan…"
Majin Buu, meanwhile, was screaming in frustration. "COME CLOSER!" His pink body warped, tendrils snapping outward, his energy erupting in waves—but each time he tried to charge, his flesh shredded against the sheer force radiating off Gohan. It was as though an invisible wall kept him out. Every attempt to strike was nullified before it even reached.
Ten minutes. That's how long Gohan held it, every second ratcheting the multiplier of Perfect Super Saiyan 2 higher. His muscles quivered, his breath came ragged, his veins bulged at his temples, but he refused to fall. His aura stretched so high into the sky it seemed to lick the void itself. From 125,000×… to 150,000×… to nearly 200,000×. His body was burning alive, but his willpower bound it together.
The arena grew silent. Even other timelines, even the most jaded fighters, stared.
Vegito from Timeline 2 smirked faintly, arms crossed, his sharp eyes narrowing. "He's killing himself for power… but damn it, he's doing it right."
Future Gohan clenched his fist, jaw tight, a storm inside him. - "That Power...hes closing in to me."
Gast watched with analytical calm, but even he muttered, "Remarkable… raw potential rivaling the top Warriors here. But unstable. Very unstable."
Broly tilted his head once, eyes narrowing—not out of respect, but a flicker of recognition. Power climbing higher, closer, closer to something he'd crushed before.
Buu screamed again, thrashing. "NOOO! STOP IT! SCARY BOY! STOP!" His body ballooned, warped, tried to regenerate in layers. But Gohan wasn't giving him time.
With one final gasp, Gohan's knees buckled, his golden aura flickering violently. His chest heaved as he whispered, "Now…" He dropped low beneath Buu, his palms glowing, and with the last of his will he roared, "SUPER MASENKO… HAAAAA!"
The beam that erupted wasn't yellow—it was blinding white, wrapped in spirals of gold. The sheer wave of force cracked the barrier the angels had placed, something no fighter had managed until now. The protective dome wavered, then shattered like glass as the Masenko carved straight through it.
The spectators shielded their eyes, some nearly blinded by the radiance. Even Whis tilted his staff to dampen the blast's intensity. Beerus squinted, his tail twitching. "Tch… cheeky brat. He's forcing so much power"
Buu screamed as the beam hit, his body unraveling like paper in a storm. "NOOoo" His words scattered into static as the Masenko hurled him past the barrier into the void.
There was silence. Then the explosion.
It wasn't a planet-shattering blast—it was *worse*. A cascading wave of energy expanded across the void, a shining nova that turned the darkness into day for light-years. The explosion blinded half the audience, forcing them to shield their eyes as the arena shook violently.
When the light faded, all that was left was Gohan, on his knees, gasping, his aura sputtering out. His body trembled, barely able to stay upright. But Majin Buu… was gone.
The audience sat in stunned silence.
Chi-Chi, tears streaming, screamed his name in joy. "GOHAN!"
Piccolo closed his eyes, bowing his head, whispering, "You've done it. At last."
Future Gohan, silent for long moments, whispered so quietly only those near him could hear. "He's… stronger than i tought."
And Gohan, swaying, nearly unconscious, whispered with a faint smile, "I told you… Future me… I'll surpass even you." Then he collapsed fully to the arena floor, victorious but utterly drained.
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The spectators were only beginning to recover their voices when the announcer's amplified call shook the coliseum.
"Match Seventeen! Uub of Timeline Two… versus King Cold of Timeline Eight!"
The warriors in the waiting halls reacted instantly.
From Timeline One, Goku leaned forward on the bench, his face split in a wide grin. "Heh! Another Uub, huh? Let's see how this one handles himself." His eyes gleamed, excitement bubbling, but a touch of concern too—he remembered how nervous his own Uub had been.
Future Gohan, still shaken from watching his younger self obliterate Majin Buu, glanced sidelong. "This will be interesting… If their Uub's training mirrors ours, he may have found his footing sooner."
Piccolo's eyes narrowed. "But King Cold… He's not to be underestimated. Cruel, calculating, and far stronger than Frieza ever was in our timeline."
From Timeline Two, Vegito cracked his knuckles lazily, smirking at his own Uub. "Don't choke, kid. You've been pushing yourself harder than anyone. Time to show them what all that screaming in the gravity chamber was worth." His tone was mocking, but his eyes—sharp, unreadable—watched with intent.
Uub (T2) stood silently at the edge of his team's bench, fists clenched, jaw tight. His small body trembled—not with fear, but anticipation. He glanced once at Vegito, then at Gohan (T2), who gave him a quiet nod of reassurance.
Zarbon folded his arms, lips curling in disdain. "So, *this* is the brat who toppled Cooler… what a cruel joke of fate, Father, that you now face his hands."
Dodoria snorted. "Tch, looks weaker than before!!"
Frieza's tail lashed violently, his teeth bared in frustration. He hissed through clenched teeth, "Do not compare my brother's pathetic failure to Father. Cooler was humiliated by that insect boy because he underestimated him. But Father…" His voice dipped with venom, "Father will finish what Cooler could not."
But Vegito (T2), lounging with his hands behind his head, laughed loudly enough for everyone to hear. "Hah! That's the second time you're suffering at this kid's hands. First Cooler, now Cold. Tell me—are you all competing to see which member of your little empire gets humiliated by Uub the fastest?"
Krillin (T2) coughed awkwardly, half trying to smother a laugh. "He's not wrong though…"
Gohan (T1) gave a faint smile, his eyes locked on Uub.
Future Gohan leaned forward, his single eye narrowing. "More than intent. He's controlling his ki better than most adults. That first fight taught him the difference between wasting energy and wielding it."
Gast from Timeline 7 crossed his arms, studying carefully. "Yes… this one bleeds power more slowly. He's containing it. He's… efficient."
Frieza, unable to stop himself, snapped in rage. "Efficient or not, he's still a child! And children die."
Vegito tilted his head with a smug grin, his voice cutting like a blade through Frieza's fury. "Funny. That child's already done more damage to your family than the Saiyans ever did."
Frieza's face turned purple with fury, veins bulging at his temples. His tail slammed against the stone floor, cracking it. Even King Vegeta (T5) chuckled low in mockery, "Imagine that, the mighty Cold Clan toppled not by gods or legends, but by a barefoot boy."
Nappa (T5), still nursing his pride from earlier, barked out a laugh. "Bwahaha! What's next, a Saibaman beating them too?!"
Uub, oblivious to all the jeers and venom spilling from the stands, kept his eyes on Cold. His fists clenched tighter, the black-red flickers in his gaze intensifying as he whispered under his breath, "Not again… I won't lose again. I'll prove it this time."
Cold sneered, purple aura erupting around him as he prepared to retaliate, but the tension in the arena had already shifted. Fighters who once dismissed Uub as a lucky child now watched carefully—some with interest, others with dread.
Frieza sneered, tail lashing in irritation. "Father, don't embarrass yourself before these savages."
King Cold chuckled darkly, his deep voice rolling like gravel. "Embarrass? Hardly. This will be sport. The boy will break before I even need to exert myself." His eyes flickered to Uub with hunger, as though already tasting the kill.
Zarbon smirked faintly, flipping his long hair. "Let's see if this boy screams as beautifully as his look-alike did." Dodoria cracked his fists and bellowed with laughter, already imagining carnage.
From Timeline Five, Ruthless Kakarot leaned forward eagerly, his grin wide and manic. "Yesss… I want to see the brat get crushed. If he survives, maybe I'll play with him later." Beside him, Raditz chuckled low, while Rosan tilted his head with morbid curiosity.
Baby Vegito Black didn't react with words. He simply tilted his head, crimson eyes flickering faintly toward Uub. A whisper of a smile touched his lips. To him, the boy felt similar in a way.
Broly, still sitting apart from the others, didn't move. His massive frame loomed in silence, eyes half-lidded. But deep inside, his aura flared for a moment, almost imperceptibly, as though the word "fight" alone stirred his hunger.
The Namekians whispered among themselves. Nail clenched his fists, muttering, "The boy is strong… I can feel it. But King Cold… he reeks of Weird malice." Gast remained calm, eyes steady, while Slug only grinned, sharp teeth gleaming in the dim light.
Launch grinned, flipping her coin. "I'll bet my bullets on the boy."
The angels descended lightly, resetting the battlefield once more, their staff movements weaving a fresh arena into existence, the ground still warm from the remnants of Gohan's battle.
King Cold rose with regal arrogance, each step echoing as though the arena bent to his presence. His massive frame gleamed under the lights, his cold eyes locked on Uub as if the fight were already decided.
Uub (T2) stepped forward slowly, barefoot, his expression firm. His body was tense, but his breathing steady. He walked with none of the bravado of other fighters—just quiet determination.
As they took their places, silence fell. All eyes were on them.
The Grand Priest raised his hand. "Begin."
The arena shook as the Grand Priest's hand fell.
Uub didn't hesitate. The instant the word "begin" rang out, his small frame blurred forward like a cannonball shot from a divine forge. The tiles cracked beneath his bare feet as he launched, body low, fist cocked. His first punch slammed into King Cold's chest before the tyrant had even finished smirking.
The impact thundered. A crack of force split across the air, rippling like lightning in reverse. Cold staggered a half step, his grin faltering, but Uub was already moving again.
He flowed. That was the only word. Not brute swinging like Goten, not disciplined rigidity like Piccolo. He bent like water, snapped like lightning. Left hook to the ribs—*CRACK*. A spinning heel kick to the jaw—*SNAP*. He pivoted midair, driving both knees into Cold's sternum before flipping backward with a motion smoother than silk.
Cold's armor-like hide groaned under the pressure. His lips curled back, teeth bared. "You… insolent brat—"
Uub didn't wait. He twisted, low sweeping kick that knocked Cold's stance wide, then vaulted upward, palms together, hammer-fisting Cold's skull so hard the coliseum floor spiderwebbed under the tyrant's boots.
The spectators gasped. Even Vegeta's eyes narrowed. "That speed… it's sharper than Kakarot's when he was that age."
Frieza's face twisted in shock and fury. "He dares strike Father like that—!?"
Cold growled low, his tail whipping to swat Uub away. The boy twisted midair, caught the tail with both hands, and *flipped* Cold bodily over his shoulder. The giant crashed into the tiles, dust rising in a choking storm.
For an instant, silence.
Then—laughter. Cold pushed himself up slowly, his grin wide now, his red eyes gleaming with malice. "Good. Very good. You've earned this…"
His muscles began to contract, shrink, streamline. His massive shoulders narrowed, his armored ridges smoothing. His jawline sharpened to a razor's edge, and the horns receded until his skull gleamed sleek and smooth. His flesh shifted into pale lavender, his bio-gem plates glowing with faint violet light.
It was unmistakable. Cold's final form. Like Frieza's—but taller, broader, exuding ancient cruelty.
A hush fell over the crowd. Even Goku leaned forward. "So that's what he really looks like…"
Cold rolled his neck slowly, the sound like boulders grinding. His aura ignited in violet flames, dense enough to peel the top layer of the arena tiles into molten streaks. "Let's see if your little fists can scratch this body, boy."
Uub answered by vanishing.
He reappeared inside Cold's guard, elbow to the jaw. Cold barely flinched before he countered with a backhand that cracked across Uub's face, launching him a dozen meters. The boy hit the tiles hard, rolled, but sprang up instantly. Blood ran from his lip, but his eyes burned brighter.
They clashed.
Cold's strikes were heavy, precise, refined from centuries of conquest. His tail swept wide like a scythe, his fists like warhammers, his knees like spears. Uub darted between them, his smaller body weaving impossibly through gaps, but every glancing blow rattled his bones, forced air from his lungs.
A left jab—caught. Cold's fist closed around Uub's forearm like a vice. He yanked the boy in, smashing his knee into Uub's gut. The sound was sickening. Uub gagged, spittle flying, his vision flashing white.
Cold chuckled darkly, voice silky with mockery. "You've spirit, boy. But spirit won't save you." He flung Uub aside like trash, sending him skidding across stone.
The boy lay still for a heartbeat. His chest heaved, his ribs screaming. He could *feel* the difference—the sheer gap in weight, in mastery. He clenched his fists, digging nails into his palms until blood welled.
"I… won't lose…"
His breath caught. Anger coiled hot in his chest—not wild, not like Broly, but sharp, cutting. His aura flared, first white, then gold flickers at the edges. He roared, launching forward again.
This time, his strikes were harder. Faster.
Cold blocked a flurry of punches, but his arms shuddered under the force. Uub's knee snapped up into his chin—*CRACK*. A backflip kick followed, heel colliding with Cold's temple.
Even Gast leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "His ki… it's climbing too fast, IS he gonna do the Same form the other version of himself did?."
Future Gohan's one eye sharpened.
Cold snarled, swiping a heavy clawed hand, carving through air where Uub had just been. The boy ducked, twisting, and planted both palms on the ground. He kicked upward, twin heels slamming into Cold's chin. The tyrant staggered back—just in time for Uub to spin like a corkscrew, launching a fist into Cold's ribs with a thunderous crack.
Cold hissed, real pain in his voice. His aura flared violet again, blasting Uub away. But the boy landed on his feet, panting, sweat dripping down his brow.
His eyes—dark brown—flickered. Black seeped outward from the iris, the edges pulsing faint crimson. For a moment, his gaze looked alien. Dangerous.
Vegito (T2) sat forward, eyes narrowing. "Hnh…."
The boy roared, his voice shaking the arena. His fists blurred, a storm of punches and elbows. Each movement was sharper, heavier, guided by instinct that wasn't entirely his own. His heel slammed into Cold's chest, launching him upward.
Uub appeared above, hands cupped, gathering a sphere of blinding ki. He smashed it downward like a meteor, the explosion lighting the sky white.
The smoke cleared to reveal Cold staggering, burns across his chest, blood trailing from his mouth. He glared up, hate etched into every line of his sleek form.
"You'll regret that…"
But Uub's answer was already in his eyes. Those black-and-red eyes.