King Cold snarled, his voice carrying like thunder.
"YOU DARE… put your hands on me? Insolent child!"
His roar shook the arena, and the air warped as his energy surged. The temperature plummeted, frost crawling across the shattered floor. Fighters in the stands leaned forward, instinctively shielding their senses.
Piccolo's eyes narrowed. "That energy… it's colder than Frieza's, sharper than Cooler's."
Gast's crimson eyes studied the boy instead. Uub stood bent at the knees, chest heaving, blood dripping from his nose. But there was no fear in him—only defiance.
Uub's eyes, pulsing black-red, locked on Cold. His body blurred forward, faster than before, almost flickering between strikes. His fists hammered Cold's midsection in a storm of blows—CRACK, CRACK—each one splitting the tyrant's armored hide.
Cold snarled, spittle flying. His massive palm slammed down, catching Uub's head like a vice, and he drove the boy into the ground. Stone split like glass.
Frieza screamed from the stands, his tail lashing wildly. "Yes! Crush him, Father! Make him beg!"
But the dust cleared—and Uub's arms locked around Cold's wrist. His aura screamed upward, white fire edged in crimson. With a guttural cry, the boy ripped himself free, spinning in midair. His heel carved an arc across Cold's jaw—THWACK! The titan reeled, teeth snapping together hard enough to draw blood.
Cold staggered, eyes wide. He looked down at his hand, trembling faintly. "Impossible… this brat's body… it hits harder than my own kind's full power…"
From the stands, Vegeta's lip curled, his voice sharp. "He's pushing past limits like a Saiyan. But he's not one. That boy… what is he?"
Cold roared, fury boiling over. His body warped, muscles expanding, horns curling sharper. His aura flared like a storm of violet fire. The ground split apart under the gravity of it.
"I am not some expendable son! I am the Emperor of the Universe! And you—will—DIE!"
He blurred, faster than before, his fist slamming into Uub's gut. The boy's mouth opened in a silent gasp, blood spraying. Cold's tail whipped around, coiling his throat like a serpent, lifting him off the ground.
Krillin shouted, "Uub! He can't—he can't break free!"
But Uub's eyes, black rimmed with red, glowed like embers. His aura snapped again, burning through the tail. With a howl, he grabbed Cold's horns and slammed his forehead forward—CRACK! The tyrant reeled, nose shattered, purple blood flying.
The boy landed in a crouch, panting, hands trembling. His gaze burned straight into Cold's.
"I don't care if you're Frieza's father… Cooler's brother… the last emperor in your rotten clan… I won't lose to you!"
The words weren't shouted. They were carved from stone, each syllable shaking with conviction. His aura flared higher, brighter—gold bleeding fully into black-red.
And in the silence that followed, Baby Vegito Black crimson eyes gleaming.
"Yes… keep fighting, little human. I want to see what's hiding in you."
The floor quaked. Cold's snarl split the air. Uub's aura burned hotter.
---
Violet flames churning around Could titanic body. He sneered through the blood running down his chin, his voice like grinding metal.
"Enough of this child's play—"
He didn't finish.
Uub was already there.
His body vanished into a blur, reappearing with a fist buried in Cold's gut so deep the tyrant's chest caved inward, bones audibly snapping. The sound was wet, sickening. Black aura howled off the boy's frame, wrapped in faint pink lightning that snapped like whips.
Cold's eyes bulged. Blood erupted from his mouth in a spray. Before he could even react, Uub's elbow drove upward into his jaw, cracking it sideways. A knee followed—sharp, merciless—into his ribs, caving the other side.
The boy's eyes were gone. No whites. No pupils. Only swirling black voids rimmed with crimson flame.
Future Gohan's lone eye widened, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. "Theres no Technique anymore…."
Uub snarled—short, guttural. His aura twisted around him like a storm, black fire laced with arcs of pink lightning that scorched the arena floor wherever they touched. He spun midair, heel slicing down across Cold's collarbone—CRACK. The tyrant dropped to one knee.
Bulma (T1) - "He's doing It Just like our Uub!"
But Uub didn't stop.
He grabbed Cold by the horns and *wrenched* his head down into his rising knee. The impact shattered teeth, blood spraying across the tiles. Then he twisted, flipping the massive body over his shoulder like it was nothing, slamming it spine-first into the ground. The shockwave buckled half the arena, cracks spiderwebbing out beneath them.
Cold tried to snarl, but his voice came out as a broken gurgle. Uub planted both feet on his chest and *stomped*. Bones snapped. The tyrant's body cratered deeper into the stone, his purple blood pooling fast.
From the stands, Vegeta's fists clenched tight. "He's fighting like Kid Buu."
Gast's eyes narrowed, his voice low. "That's corruption of one's good."
Uub roared, black and pink aura detonating outward in a shockwave that hurled Cold's body into the air like a ragdoll. Before the tyrant even stopped rising, Uub was there again, appearing above him in a flash of shadow. He pummeled Cold with a downward rain of fists—dozens, then hundreds, each strike detonating flesh, spraying gore, collapsing bone faster than regeneration could keep pace.
The blow was a spinning backfist that shattered Cold's horn clean off, the jagged stump spraying blood across the arena.
The audience gasped as Cold's massive body was hurled into the ground again, shaking the stadium to its foundations. The dust cleared slowly, revealing the emperor coughing blood, his chest caved, one horn gone, his golden eyes trembling with something he hadn't felt in centuries—fear.
Uub dropped lightly in front of him, aura crackling like a black inferno. His voice was low, almost inhuman.
"You're not enough either."
Cold spat blood, trying to snarl but failing, his body twitching violently.
Bulma's fingers clutched the railing, knuckles white. Her voice trembled, half in awe, half in fear.
"That boy… Uub… and even Cold. They've both reached a point where they could crush that Buu who just fought Gohan without breaking a sweat."
Her future counterpart adjusted her scouter, eyes narrowing as the readings spiked wildly.
"But look closer. Even with their growth… Gohan at full power still dwarfs them. He's already past this league entirely."
Vegeta didn't turn his head, his eyes locked on the fight below. His arms were folded, but his jaw clenched hard. "Hmph. Power really means everything!."
Down in the arena, the words meant nothing.
Uub's aura had burned into a pure void—black flames licked around his frame, pink lightning cracking at every joint, each step leaving scorched footprints in the stone. His body moved with a merciless rhythm, not wild flailing but sharp, merciless precision. Every strike had weight, purpose.
He darted forward, shoulder rolling beneath Cold's claw, rising with an uppercut that snapped the tyrant's head back. The boy pivoted on his heel, elbow smashing into Cold's ribs, then a reverse spin-kick crashed into the emperor's thigh, fracturing bone. Uub followed with a savage palm strike into the chest, the sound like a sledgehammer through steel.
The crowd flinched with every impact.
Cold reeled, his massive frame stumbling under the storm. But then his lips peeled back in a broken smile, blood dripping between his fangs.
"Enough playing…"
His aura exploded. Violet flames twisted, brightened, melted into liquid gold. His hide shimmered, scales shifting hue until his entire body gleamed like a molten statue. The ground cracked and warped beneath him as the sheer pressure rolled outward.
Gast's eyes widened, his voice low. "Gold… Cold has reached the golden form. That… that power eclipses the boy entirely."
Cold raised his head, his golden eyes glowing like suns. He vanished in a blink—then appeared with his fist buried in Uub's chest. The sound was monstrous, ribs snapping like dry branches. Uub's eyes bulged, blood bursting from his lips as his body was sent flying, shattering the far wall of the arena.
The stands shook with the impact.
Krillin's voice cracked. "Uub! No—!"
The boy staggered out of the rubble, coughing blood, his body trembling. But Cold was already there. His golden fist struck Uub's jaw, breaking it sideways. A tail whip followed, snapping against Uub's spine with a sickening crack, slamming him back into the ground.
The emperor loomed over him, his golden aura crackling.
"You thought yourself a warrior? You thought yourself my equal? You are nothing but dust beneath my empire!"
He stomped down, heel crushing into Uub's ribs. Blood sprayed from the boy's mouth, his body spasming under the pressure.
From above, Piccolo's voice was grim. "This is pure cold slaughter." (no pun intended)
But Uub's eyes—those black-red pits—still burned. His hand shot up, catching Cold's ankle. His aura screamed again, black flames flaring against the golden light. He twisted, throwing Cold off balance, and rose with a feral snarl. His movements were battered, broken, but still precise.
Left fist—straight into the gut. Right elbow—across the jaw. A spin, heel catching the temple. Cold's head snapped sideways, blood arcing.
But the emperor laughed through the pain. He grabbed Uub's arm, bones snapping under his grip, and hurled him like a ragdoll. Uub hit the ground, rolled, forced himself back to his feet, half his face swollen, blood running down his chest.
The boy's breathing was ragged, his frame trembling. Yet his stance—low, tight, fists curled—never broke.
Vegeta's eyes narrowed. "He's broken half to death… but he refuses to stop."
Cold blurred forward again, his golden aura blazing. His fists rained down in a storm, each blow like thunder, driving Uub back, shattering bones, tearing muscle. But with every strike, Uub moved—blocking some, redirecting others, slipping in counters where he could. He fought like a cornered beast, but one trained in the art of survival.
A knee crashed into Uub's gut, nearly folding him in half. Cold raised both hands, golden ki swirling into a massive sphere overhead.
"This is for my SONN!"
Uub staggered forward, spitting blood, his body broken, aura flickering. Yet his eyes never left Cold's. His arms lifted, trembling, and his black aura flared again, pink lightning tearing through the sky.
The crowd fell silent as two suns—one gold, one black—swelled against each other, their light clashing, their pressure crushing the stadium into dust.
Future Gohan's voice was a whisper. "He should be dead already… but he's still standing. Still fighting."
Bulma's hand covered her mouth, her eyes wide. "He's not done"
The two auras collided. The arena vanished in light.
---
Them..
---
Uub stood hunched, his body battered beyond reason, his chest heaving like a war drum. Then the sound came—at first a rasp, then a howl, then a scream so raw it tore the air apart. The stone beneath his feet split open. His aura surged blacker than night, the pink lightning now jagged spears ripping into the sky.
Uub's scream tore out of him like an animal in pain, a raw bellow that rattled the foundations of the arena. His black aura convulsed, then tightened, compressed into a violent storm that blasted outward, halting King Cold mid-charge. The emperor snarled, straining against the invisible wall of pressure, but his golden aura flickered under the sheer force.
The boy's hair—sweat-darkened and frayed—began to burn. Strands shifted hue, first glowing faint orange, then igniting into deep crimson. The transformation spread in a wave, every lock blazing red, whipping in the storm of his own ki. His eyes snapped open, no longer hollow voids but shining, predatory crimson, the pupils swallowed by scarlet flame.
And then—the mark.
A sharp glow carved itself into his forehead, a jagged crimson "M," pulsing like molten metal. The stands erupted in gasps, old memories flashing across every warrior's mind.
Krillin's voice broke. "No… Babidi? Again?!"
But Gast shook his head, grim. "No control. That mark isn't magic—it's his body's rebellion. A new form, carved from rage itself."
Vegito went on, almost amused at his own words."And that form of his… not magic, not Saiyan. Something new. Raw potential forged into flesh. Black flame, red hair, that mark on his head—no control, just him. That kid's rewriting what it means to be strong. Honestly… I'm impressed. Proud, even. Hah… didn't think I'd say that."
Cold's eyes narrowed. "So… the insect finally shows fangs."
Uub stood taller, the storm of his aura coiling into a focused blaze, black fire streaked with pink lightning. His red hair gleamed like a torch in the night. His breathing slowed, his stance sharpened—not feral now, but razor-precise.
Then he vanished.
Cold's instincts barely caught up—he raised a guard, arms crossed—but Uub's fist crashed against his guard with such force the emperor's forearms dented inward, scales splitting. The sound was like mountains colliding. The shockwave blew a crater into the arena floor, hurling spectators back despite their barriers.
Cold countered instantly, his tail whipping around in a blur, cracking across Uub's face. The boy spun with the impact, but planted a hand on the ground, flipping back upright mid-motion. He twisted low, sweeping Cold's legs out from under him. The emperor fell, but rolled through, rising in the same breath, his golden aura blazing.
Both fighters locked eyes—red burning into gold—and then they exploded forward.
The exchange was blinding. Uub's fists blurred in disciplined chains, every strike connected to the next: jab, elbow, shoulder check, sweep. Cold answered with claws, snapping tail strikes, and blasts of ki detonated point-blank between them. Their bodies collided over and over, the fight no longer just about power, but the art of destruction.
Cold snarled, breaking the rhythm. He raised a clawed hand, golden energy condensing into a blade of pure light. With a roar, he slashed downward—Royal Execution, a technique honed with Cooler in secret. The slash tore the arena in half, cleaving stone and space alike.
But Uub slipped through, twisting sideways, the golden blade grazing his shoulder and drawing blood. He roared back, hair blazing red, and slammed both palms into Cold's chest—BOOM! The impact cracked the emperor's golden armor-hide, a spiderweb fracture radiating outward.
Cold staggered, spitting purple blood, but his grin widened."You dare wound me? Then taste the Empire's Wrath!"
He raised both hands, summoning a storm of violet-gold spears, thousands of them, each forged from the ki he once trained with Frieza and Cooler. They rained down like a storm of meteors.
Uub crossed his arms, aura screaming. Black fire erupted outward, pink lightning shredding through the barrage. Spears shattered against his defense, but still hundreds pierced through, stabbing into flesh, erupting blood. The boy screamed but did not fall. He charged through it.
A fist buried in Cold's throat silenced the emperor's laughter. Uub lifted him by the neck, red eyes blazing."I said—I WON'T LOSE!"
He drove a knee into Cold's spine, then twisted, suplexing the golden emperor headfirst into the ground. Stone shattered, dust blasted skyward. Without pause, Uub hauled him back up and unleashed a storm of blows—hooks, knees, elbows—each one detonating with the force of artillery.
Cold's golden body shuddered under the storm, but his eyes gleamed with sick delight. He spat blood into Uub's face and roared, blasting him back with a point-blank Death Nova, a massive sphere of gold-violet energy. The explosion tore the arena's edge clean off, leaving only molten rubble.
When the smoke cleared, Uub staggered forward. His skin was scorched, blood painted his body, but his red hair still burned. His aura howled louder, black fire roaring back to life, pink lightning dancing like chains around his frame.
Cold wiped his mouth, golden blood dripping from his fangs. His voice was guttural, savage, but proud."Yes… push me further, boy. Show me the warrior who dares defy the Cold dynasty!"