The sky above the ocean stretched endlessly, painted with streaks of gold and blue as the sun began its slow descent. Three figures cut through the clouds, their auras blazing like comets across the horizon.
Goku flew at the front, eyes sharp, fists clenched at his sides. Every second his son was in Raditz's grasp felt like a knife in his chest. Behind him, Piccolo hovered with practiced control, cape billowing in the wind, his scowl as unreadable as ever. A few paces further back, Saitama drifted along, arms dangling lazily at his sides, his face blank as though this were nothing more than a morning jog.
The silence between the three was broken by Goku.
"Piccolo," he said firmly, "I don't like this, but… thanks. For agreeing to help."
Piccolo didn't even glance at him. "Don't mistake this for kindness, Son Goku. I'm only doing this because that Saiyan is a threat to me too. Once this is over, I'll kill you myself."
Goku's lips curved into a faint, wry smile. "Heh. Guess I'd expect nothing less."
From the back, Saitama tilted his head. "You two always talk about killing each other, huh? That's kinda awkward for a team-up."
Neither warrior responded. Goku was too focused on his son, and Piccolo had no patience for jokes. Saitama sighed, scratching his cheek.
"Man… I thought flying with others would feel exciting," he muttered, "but this is just tense."
Down below, the waves shimmered under the fading light. Saitama's gaze wandered, following the curve of the ocean. He blinked slowly, realizing something.
"…Wait. How far is this guy's place? 'Cause I didn't bring snacks."
Goku glanced back, confused. "Snacks?"
"Yeah," Saitama said flatly. "Kinda hungry. Didn't expect to be dragged into a kidnapping case today."
Piccolo's brow twitched. "You're an idiot."
Saitama shrugged. "Fair enough."
Meanwhile, far ahead in the wilderness, Raditz landed in a barren field, the pod resting behind him like a metallic egg. Gohan sat inside, curled into a ball. His small hands trembled as tears streamed down his cheeks.
"Papa…" he whispered, voice breaking.
Raditz's tail flicked in irritation. "Pathetic. All this crying. You don't even have the spirit of a Saiyan."
His scouter beeped suddenly, numbers flashing rapidly. Raditz froze. He looked back at the pod, narrowing his eyes. For just an instant, Gohan's energy had spiked—far beyond what his scouter expected.
"…Impossible," Raditz muttered. "That brat's power… It jumped to seven hundred."
He approached the pod, sneering down at the boy. Gohan glared back through teary eyes, his body trembling not just with fear, but something deeper. A heat inside him, fierce and unyielding, stirred.
Raditz smirked. "Hmph. Interesting. Maybe you're not completely worthless after all."
But as quickly as it had come, Gohan's energy dropped again, leaving only the faint cries of a child. Raditz scoffed. "A spark… nothing more."
He turned his attention skyward. His scouter beeped again—three power signatures approaching fast. A cruel smile spread across his face.
"So… they're coming."
Back in the air, Goku felt his chest tighten. Though he couldn't sense ki the way Piccolo could, he knew instinctively that Gohan was in danger.
"Hold on, Gohan," he muttered under his breath.
Piccolo caught the whisper, his tone sharp. "Focus, Goku. Sentiment will get you killed. We're not going in to save your brat with feelings—we're going in to kill that Saiyan."
Goku shot him a glare. "Don't call him a brat. He's my son."
Saitama floated in between them, his arms crossed loosely. "You guys really like to argue, huh? Can't we just… beat the guy up and go home?"
Piccolo's patience thinned. "You wouldn't understand. This isn't some casual fight."
"Could've fooled me," Saitama replied in his usual monotone. "Dude shows up, makes a speech, takes a kid. Feels like Saturday morning routine to me."
Piccolo turned away, unwilling to waste breath. Goku, though tense, let out a faint chuckle despite himself.
The trio flew in silence for a few more moments until Goku spoke again.
"Piccolo… Do you think we can really do this?"
Piccolo's eyes narrowed. "On our own? No. Together, maybe. But if either of us slips up, we're dead."
Goku nodded grimly. "Then I'll give it everything I've got."
Saitama yawned behind them. "Man… You guys are dramatic. If this doesn't work out, I'll just punch him again. Worked fine the first time."
Piccolo shot him a glare. "You're a fool if you think—"
But before he could finish, all three of them felt it. Raditz's energy, radiating like a beacon ahead.
The tension thickened.
Goku clenched his fists tighter. "He's close."
Piccolo's scowl deepened. "Yes. And he's waiting for us."
Saitama scratched the back of his head. "Cool. Maybe we can wrap this up before dinner."
Far below, Raditz stood tall, the wind rustling his hair. His scouter beeped rhythmically as he tracked their approach. His lips curled into a cruel grin.
"Finally… Kakarot. Let's see what you're really made of."
The cries of Gohan echoed faintly from the pod, but Raditz's laughter drowned them out, reverberating through the desolate plains.