The world did not end. At least not yet. That, more than anything else, was what made the following days feel strange. They had fought off a world ending enemy, but that sense of impending threat still lingered.
The sun still rose over the ocean. Waves still rolled against the shore. Children still laughed, food still cooked, and birds still circled lazily through blue skies that had nearly burned away beneath the Oozaru's rage.
Life went on.
And yet, every person who had stood on that island, or watched from the boat, felt it.
The shift.
The knowledge that Earth had brushed against extinction, and only barely survived.
A few days passed within Capsule Corp. Not the frantic, sleepless kind of chaos that followed a crisis—but the focused, determined hum of preparation. Of someone who had stared into the abyss and decided, very calmly, to build a ladder.
Yamcha lay submerged in pale blue liquid, eyes closed, breathing steady. The prototype healing pod encased him from shoulders to calves, thin lines of energy pulsing softly along the curved glass. Microcurrents of ki-responsive energy flowed through the solution, accelerating cellular repair, stabilizing damaged pathways, and reinforcing tissue that had been pushed far beyond its natural limits.
Across the room, Goku occupied the second pod.
Unlike Yamcha, he was awake, pressing his face against the glass with childlike curiosity.
"Whoa… this thing's so weird," Goku said, bubbles escaping his mouth. "It feels like I slept for a week and ate a whole mountain of food at the same time."
Bulma didn't look up from her tablet. "That's because it's stimulating cellular regeneration and metabolic reinforcement simultaneously," she said flatly. "Try not to kick the glass again. This is a prototype, not a toy."
"Oh." Goku paused. "Is it bad that I kinda wanna punch it?"
"Yes."
"Oh. Okay."
Yamcha cracked one eye open and snorted. "You're gonna break it."
"I will end you," Bulma warned without looking up.
Despite the banter, Yamcha could feel it.
The difference.
His body was no longer screaming. The lingering instability from forcing the First Gate past harmonization had receded, leaving behind only a faint echo, a reminder of the backlash, not a wound. The pod wasn't a senzu bean. It wasn't an instant reset that filled him with an impossible vitality.
But it worked.
Muscle fibers that had frayed under strain knit back together stronger. Ki pathways that had warped under stress were soothed. Even his mind felt clearer, the dull pressure behind his eyes easing as neural fatigue faded.
When the pod hissed open and the liquid drained away, Yamcha stepped out slowly, testing his weight.
Solid.
Balanced.
Alive.
Bulma finally looked up, scanning readings with sharp focus. "You're back within optimal parameters," she said. "No internal tearing, no cellular collapse, no lingering backlash. That doesn't mean you can do what you did again."
Yamcha smiled faintly. "Wasn't planning on it."
She crossed her arms, eyes sharp. "Good. Because if you tear yourself apart again, I will personally invent a device that shocks you every time you think about overclocking your own biology."
"…That sounds like something you'd do."
"I'm serious."
"I know."
There was a pause.
Then Bulma sighed, her expression softening just a fraction. "You scared us."
Yamcha stepped closer and kissed her forehead. "I know. I'm not doing that again unless there's no other choice."
Toshi ran over from where she'd been playing with a handful of capsule toys and hugged his leg with fierce determination. "Daddy don't blow up again again."
Yamcha laughed quietly and scooped her up. "Deal."
They didn't leave again immediately. That had been a compromise with Bulma and Chi-Chi.
Every few days, no matter how intense training became, Yamcha and Goku would come home. Even if it was just for the night. Even if it meant slowing down travel schedules or cutting sessions short.
Family first. It was what they would be fighting so hard for, and being grounded would be good for them.
So for two nights, Yamcha slept in his own bed, listening to the quiet rhythm of Bulma's breathing beside him. Goku ate himself into a food coma at his home in Mt. Paozu, Gohan sprawled across his chest, their snores synching up in an adorable display. Chi-Chi watched from the kitchen, taking in as much of the scene as she could. While some of the others may see her differently, this is what she truly wanted for her family.
The world felt… fragile.
And precious.
By the third morning, it was time.
Two capsule cases rested at Yamcha's belt.
Inside them: the healing pods.
Bulma had insisted. "If you idiots are going to push yourselves, you're doing it with backups."
Krillin hovered nearby as Yamcha and Goku prepared to leave, shifting nervously from foot to foot. "So… uh… we're really doing this, huh?"
Yamcha clapped him on the shoulder. "Yeah. And you're coming with us."
Krillin swallowed. "Right. Yeah. Totally not terrified."
Goku grinned. "You did great against Raditz! You should've seen your face when that disc worked!"
Krillin flushed. "I was sure I missed it."
"But you didn't," Yamcha said. "And that's why we need everyone."
They lifted off together, streaking away from civilization and into quieter lands.
Their destination lay far inland, beyond mountains and forests where few people ever wandered.
Tien Shinhan didn't train where he could be found easily, but between ki senses and Yamcha's byakugan quietly mapping their surroundings, they were confident they could find him quickly.
They felt him before they saw him.
A steady, disciplined ki. Coiled tight, sharp at the edges, like a blade honed against stone.
High atop a barren plateau, Tien stood barefoot on cracked earth, arms folded behind his back, eyes closed. Chiaotzu hovered nearby, small hands clasped, psychic energy drifting gently around him like a soft breeze.
When Yamcha, Goku, and Krillin touched down, Tien opened his third eye immediately.
And frowned.
"…That's new," he said flatly, gaze locking onto Yamcha.
Krillin blinked. "Huh?"
Tien stepped forward, scanning him openly now. "Your ki. It's… different. It's stronger, more controlled."
Yamcha winced. They'd have to explain the changes again. "Yeah. That tracks."
Goku waved cheerfully. "Hey Tien!"
Tien nodded back to Goku, then looked at Yamcha again. "You fought something powerful."
"Raditz," Yamcha said. "An alien called a Saiyan. Goku's brother."
Chiaotzu gasped softly.
Tien's expression hardened. "I felt it. A few days ago. Massive spikes. One moment you were barely there… the next it was like the sky split apart."
Yamcha nodded. "That was me pushing something new. I wouldn't recommend it without a safety net."
Tien nodded, "That makes sense. I've been working on something similar, and the backlash is intense."
Krillin scratched his head. "Long story short, two more are coming. Stronger. Way stronger."
Silence fell.
Tien exhaled slowly. "How long?"
"One year," Goku said.
Chiaotzu floated closer, eyes wide. "That's… not much time."
"No," Yamcha agreed. "Which is why we're gathering everyone."
Tien studied him for several long seconds.
Then he nodded once. "Show me."
Yamcha raised an eyebrow. "Show you what?"
"That power," Tien said. "I've felt it from afar, but if you're worried, I want to know what we're up against."
Yamcha took a breath, and let his ki rise.
Not as explosive or violent as it had been versus Raditz. It was more controlled, his power spiking by five times.
The air tightened. Stones vibrated and began floating in his aura. A faint blue-white aura burst into existence around him, controlled, disciplined, but unmistakably deeper than before.
Tien's eyes widened.
"…You've crossed a threshold."
"Yeah," Yamcha said quietly. "And I'm not done."
Goku grinned. "He's scary when he gets serious."
Tien snorted. "With that kind of power backing him, I don't doubt it."
After a moment, he turned to Chiaotzu. "Pack up. We're going."
Chiaotzu smiled and nodded.
Krillin blinked. "Wait, really? Just like that?"
Tien looked back at him. "If the world might end in a year, I'm not going to be left out of the fight."
The journey to Kami's Lookout felt different this time, more purposeful. The weight of approaching threats pressing down on the group as they drew closer.
When they arrived, Kami stood waiting, staff in hand, expression grave but calm.
"You are late," he said mildly.
Yamcha shrugged. "Had to recruit."
Kami's gaze passed over Tien and Chiaotzu, then lingered on Yamcha. "…I felt your power surge. You have changed."
"I have. I've made progress on my eternal gates theory," Yamcha replied. "The stakes have been raised though. We all need to get stronger."
Mr. Popo appeared silently beside them. "Training begins soon."
Kami nodded, pretending to not notice the collected z fighters jumping at Popo's sudden appearance. "I will summon Piccolo."
Yamcha grinned sharply. "Don't worry. If he doesn't show, I'll drag him here by his antenna."
Kami blinked.
Then sighed, a sudden headache forming at thought of the future bickering that was bound to take place in his peaceful hideout. "I was afraid you would say that."
Above them, the sky stretched wide and endless, but doing little to hide the pressure bearing down on the planet.
One year.
Only one year until the world would be threatened again. Earth, and her defenders, would be ready.