Thirty minutes dissolved like steam. The fusion energy within him began to fray—first as a faint tremor in his palms, then as a shimmering corona rippling across his skin. Gold light pulsed like a dying star. Gocheta froze, mid-chew. *Cease?* The thought stabbed with icy clarity. Was he a borrowed costume, discarded when the timer ended? Or did the Earth clerk linger somewhere in the void, screaming into nothingness? Saiyan instincts roared defiance; the human fragment remembered tax returns, unfinished. His fists clenched, knuckles white beneath fading fur. The noodles tasted like ash.
Space warped violently beside him. Piccolo landed soundlessly, his shadow stark against Gocheta's luminescence. "Defusing?" he asked, voice flat. Gocheta nodded curtly, light intensifying, tearing at his seams. Piccolo's eyes narrowed. "Potara doesn't destroy. It separates." The words hung heavy. Gocheta's gaze locked onto the Namekian's. Did Piccolo lie? Hope warred with dread. The golden light swelled blindingly—heatless, silent, consuming him whole. His last thought: *Did I pay rent?*
The light collapsed inward, vanishing instantly. Not oblivion. Awareness snapped back—sharp, jarring. He stood exactly where he'd crunched noodles. Sunlight warmed his skin. Dust motes danced lazily. His hands? Still clenched fists. Massive, furred forearms intact. Golden aura? Faintly humming around him. *Still Gocheta.* Confusion hammered him. Had Piccolo been wrong? Did fusion... stick? He raised a trembling hand. Golden fur glinted. *Alone?*
Air ripped apart beside him with twin sonic booms. Two figures coalesced instantly from nothingness—one clad in orange gi, black hair wild; the other armored, spiky-haired, scowling fiercely. Goku blinked rapidly, rubbing his eyes. "Huh? Piccolo said we defused?" Vegeta snarled, scanning the ruins, fists clenched. "Impossible! Where is Buu? " Both pivoted simultaneously, eyes locking onto the towering golden-haired figure radiating dense fusion energy beside them.
Recognition dawned—slowly, horrifyingly. Their jaws dropped in perfect unison. Goku pointed a trembling finger, eyes wide as dinner plates. "Y-you...!" Vegeta mirrored the gesture, arm snapping out rigidly, face purpling with utter disbelief. Twin roars of shock tore through the desolate air, echoing off glassy craters: **"WHAT THE HELL?!"** The sheer outrage vibrated the ground beneath Gocheta's boots. He sighed, rubbing his neck. Awkward.
Gocheta's golden gaze flickered between them—Goku's bewildered openness, Vegeta's incandescent fury. Then, slowly, deliberately, he copied their gestures. His massive arm lifted, thick finger extending dramatically. Not at Buu's tower wreckage. Not at Fat Buu's snoring bulk. Directly at *them*. His fused voice boomed across the ruins, layered with Saiyan exasperation and Earthling incredulity, utterly bypassing their existential crisis: **"HOW THE HELL AM I SO TALL BUT VEGETA IS SHORT HOW THE HELL DOES THAT WORK?!"** The sheer absurdity hung thick, punctuated by Vegeta's choked splutter and Goku's bewildered blink. Goten stifled a sudden giggle into Trunks' sleeve.
Vegeta's pointing finger trembled violently, knuckles cracking. "You—you insolent—!" he choked, spittle flying. "Height? You stand there defying cosmic law and you mock MY stature?!" Goku scratched his head, squinting at Gocheta's imposing silhouette. "Well... I guess fused stuff usually makes ya taller..." Piccolo pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling sharply. Fat Buu snorted louder in his sleep, oblivious to the unraveling Saiyan dignity.
Gocheta lowered his arm, tapping his temple thoughtfully. "Gravity's a jerk," he mused aloud, ignoring Vegeta's apoplectic glare. The golden aura flared softly. "Or maybe..." He paused, considering the volatile Saiyan prince now practically vibrating with suppressed rage. "...short fuse?" Vegeta screamed—a raw, incoherent sound of pure, unadulterated fury—and launched himself forward in a blind, golden-hued charge. Gocheta merely sidestepped, letting him streak past harmlessly into a pile of rubble. "Yep," he muttered. "Definitely."
Goku blinked, head tilting slowly like a confused puppy. His eyes shifted from Vegeta's dust plume to Gocheta's towering form, then back again. "But... the earrings?" he mumbled, scratching his messy hair. He held up his own bare earlobe for emphasis. "They popped off back at Supreme Kai's place! We *defused*!" His brow furrowed deeper, genuine bewilderment etching his features. "You shouldn't... be here?" The words hung in the charged air, punctuated only by Vegeta's furious scrabbling amidst fallen concrete slabs. Goku's gaze lingered on Gocheta's fusion earrings—still firmly clamped beneath shimmering golden hair. "How's that even possible?"
Gocheta sighed—a sound like grinding tectonic plates layered over a weary sigh. He reached up, fingers brushing one gleaming Potara. "Dunno," he admitted, the earlier smirk replaced by Saiyan pragmatism threaded with Earthling confusion. "Timer ran out. Light show happened." His golden eyes narrowed slightly, locking onto Goku's bewildered stare. "Then... I stayed." He tapped his chest—solid, furred, humming with fused power. "Guess the clerk punched his ticket permanently." A flicker of something akin to Goku's own existential curiosity crossed his fused face. "Or maybe Buu's weirdness rewrote the rules?" He shrugged massive shoulders. "Point is, I'm stuck."
Vegeta erupted from the debris, dust clinging to his armor, face a mask of purple fury. "STUCK?!" he bellowed, ki flaring violently. "You insolent FUSION ABOMINATION! I'll tear you apart MYSELF!" He lunged again, fists blazing with sapphire energy. Gocheta didn't dodge this time. He simply raised an open palm—effortless, dismissive. The air crackled. Piccolo stepped closer to Gohan, eyes wary. Goten and Trunks huddled near Fat Buu, eyes wide. The fused warrior's golden gaze never left Vegeta's charge. His lips twitched—not a smirk, but the ghost of weary resignation. "Try," he murmured. The syllable hung, heavy with inevitability.
Vegeta's fist slammed into Gocheta's palm. A shockwave ripped outward, shattering nearby rocks into powder. Dust choked the air. Vegeta strained, muscles corded, teeth bared—but his knuckles didn't budge an inch against Gocheta's unmoving hand. The fusion's golden eyes narrowed, pupils sharpening. "Annoying," Gocheta stated flatly. Then, lightning erupted. Not from the sky—from *him*. Jagged forks of blue-white energy tore across his body, snapping and hissing like angry serpents. His golden hair ignited, growing wilder, jagged, lifting as if charged by a storm. The air thickened, buzzing violently. Static lifted dust motes into shimmering constellations. Vegeta's eyes widened—pure, primal dread replacing rage. His own golden aura flickered wildly, unstable against the rising pressure.
The sheer, crushing weight of Gocheta's energy pressed down like a collapsing star. Vegeta gasped, knees buckling. His armor groaned under the invisible force. With a strangled cry, he slammed face-first onto the fused glass rock, pinned like an insect. The crackle of Super Saiyan 2 lightning drowned his choked curses. Gocheta looked down, hair crackling, eyes coldly electric. "Quiet," he commanded, the word vibrating with raw, amplified power. Vegeta shuddered, unable to lift his head, fingers clawing helplessly at the unyielding ground. Piccolo shielded the boys instinctively; even Fat Buu stirred uneasily in his sleep. The fused warrior's aura pulsed, a miniature supernova contained in flesh.
Above, Goku stared, mouth agape. His own Super Saiyan hair whipped in the energy backwash.
Then, impossibly, Goku grinned—an ear-to-ear split of pure battle joy eclipsing his confusion. His brown eyes narrowed, locking onto Gocheta's crackling silhouette with fierce delight. "Alright!" Goku barked, his voice thick with sudden exhilaration. He shot a glance at the pinned Vegeta, shrugging apologetically. "Sorry 'bout this, Vegeta! Looks fun!" With a sharp intake of breath, Goku slammed his fists together. His aura ignited like a magnesium flare—golden light swelling violently, then collapsing inward. Bones audibly creaked and elongated; his brow ridge thickened into a heavy shelf; wild golden hair erupted past his waist, whipping like spectral serpents. Super Saiyan 3. The sheer pressure flattened nearby rubble, forcing Piccolo to brace himself over the boys. Dust swirled in frantic vortices around Goku's hovering form, his grin predatory now. "Been ages since I fought someone THIS strong!" he yelled over the roar of his own power.
Gocheta tilted his head, golden lightning still dancing across his fur. He watched Goku's transformation with detached curiosity—no fear, no excitement, just Saiyan analysis overlaid with Earthling pragmatism. "Golden hair," he mused aloud, ignoring Vegeta's muffled snarl beneath his palm. "Waste of conditioner." Slowly, deliberately, he lifted his boot from Vegeta's back. The prince scrambled up instantly, trembling with humiliation, sapphire ki flaring as if to attack again—but Piccolo's arm barred his path. "Observe," the Namekian hissed, eyes fixed on the impending clash.
Goku's Super Saiyan 3 aura tore at the landscape, ripping boulders from the fused glass floor. Dust devils swirled into miniature tornadoes around his waist-length hair. "C'mon!" he roared, voice distorted by pure battle-lust, fists clenched so tight his knuckles cracked. "Let's see what fused forever *feels* like!" He shot forward—not in a blur, but a thunderclap of displaced air—fist aimed like a comet at Gocheta's jaw. The fused warrior didn't flinch, didn't dodge. He met the charge with a lazy backhand.
Impact. Sound ceased. For a microsecond, everything hung suspended: Goku's fist crushed against Gocheta's palm, shockwaves crystallizing the dust between them. Then—release. A deafening ***KRA-KOOM*** shattered the silence. The force hurled Goku backwards like a discarded toy, carving a trench through glassy rock before he skidded to a halt fifty yards away, boots grinding furrows. Super Saiyan 3 hair whipped wildly around a face split by a wider, fiercer grin. "Whoa!" Goku laughed, shaking his smoking fist. "That stung!" Across the crater, Gocheta lowered his arm slowly. Golden lightning still crackled across his fur, but a flicker of surprise crossed his fused face—Kakarot had packed more punch than expected. The Earth-born fragment whispered a frantic calculation: *How much ramen equals that recoil?* Saiyan instinct roared louder: *More.*
Gocheta's golden aura pulsed violently, then snapped inward like a collapsing star. The wild lightning vanished; the jagged, waist-length Super Saiyan hair shrank abruptly, settling back into its familiar spiky halo. Pure gold light replaced the electric storm—Super Saiyan 1. He rolled his shoulders, the dense power settling into a lower, humming frequency. "Conditioner budget saved," he muttered, almost to himself. Then he grinned—a sharp, predatory flash utterly foreign on Goku or Vegeta's face. Excitement, raw and pure, sparked in his golden eyes. *Fight Goku.* Not Buu, not some cosmic horror… *Goku.* The Earth clerk's ghostly memory surfaced: childhood posters, reruns watched past midnight. The Saiyan core surged: a worthy challenge, finally. He didn't power up further. He simply crouched, coiled power humming in his thighs.
Air ripped apart. Gocheta vanished—Instant Transmission not as a blur, but as spatial violation. He reappeared directly *above* Goku's landing point, descending like a golden comet. No war cry. No dramatic flourish. Just speed. Bone-white boots slammed down where Goku had stood a millisecond prior, cracking the fused glass into a spiderweb crater. Empty. Goku was already gone, reappearing ten feet to the left, knees bent, eyes gleaming with battle-focus. "Fast!" Goku acknowledged, already lunging sideways as Gocheta's follow-up punch tore through the space his head occupied, shattering a spire of rock behind him into vaporized dust. Gocheta didn't pause; he flowed, pivoting on the ball of one foot, a spinning heel kick lashing out towards Goku's ribs. Goku blocked with a crossed-arm guard—***THUD!***—the impact forcing him skidding backwards again, boots leaving molten trails on glass. The fused warrior pressed, a relentless golden blur—jabs like piledrivers, kicks whipping sonic booms. Excitement thrummed through him: *Goku's dodging! Goku's blocking!* It wasn't everyday you got to trade blows with the legend himself.
Goku grinned, meeting the onslaught. He weaved under a searing punch that boiled the air where his neck had been, countered with a lightning-fast elbow strike Gocheta deflected with a forearm that rang like struck steel. They danced across the glassy wasteland—gold against gold, impacts echoing like distant thunder. Gocheta felt it: the rhythm, the push-and-pull, the sheer exhilaration of testing limits against an equal. He landed a glancing blow on Goku's shoulder, feeling the dense muscle yield slightly; Goku repaid it with a snap kick that grazed Gocheta's jaw, stinging like a hornet. No annihilation, no desperation—just pure, exhilarating combat. Gocheta's grin widened. This… this was *fun*. He feinted high, then lunged low, aiming a sweeping kick at Goku's ankles, forcing the Saiyan hero into a leaping backflip. Dust swirled around them, lit golden by their clashing auras.
Gocheta straightened, dust motes swirling in the charged air around his flickering golden mane. His gaze locked onto Goku's panting, exhilarated form hovering a dozen yards away. The Earthling pragmatism whispered caution, but the fused Saiyan core roared louder—a primal urge to push harder, *see* more. That spark of fun demanded escalation. "Alright," Gocheta stated, his voice carrying effortlessly over the settling debris, layered with Saiyan anticipation and a trace of Earth-born curiosity. "Let's see if you can keep up…" The air around him crackled violently. Blue-white lightning erupted across his skin, jagged forks snapping from his shoulders and crackling through his wild, lifting hair. Gold deepened, intensifying into a blinding corona. His muscles swelled subtly beneath dense fur, veins tracing paths of pure power. Ki pressure hammered down, heavier than mountains, flattening dust devils instantly. Super Saiyan 2. He leveled a crackling golden gaze at Goku, pupils sharpening to predatory slits. "...with *this*." The final word hung, charged and challenging.
Goku's grin vanished, replaced by intense focus. The sheer *weight* of Gocheta's SSJ2 aura pressed against him, tangible and suffocating. Super Saiyan 3 wasn't fast enough for *this*. He felt it instantly—the terrifying speed coiled within that crackling golden form. With a sharp gasp, Goku slammed his fists together again, but differently. His golden SSJ3 aura flared violently, then *collapsed* inward with a sickening crunch of compressing bone. Muscle density shifted; height reduced fractionally. The wild, waist-length hair receded, settling into a tighter, fiercer halo crackling with controlled lightning identical to Gocheta's own. Super Saiyan 2. Twin storms of blue-white energy now faced each other, their harmonic hum vibrating the fused glass beneath their feet into a million shimmering fragments. Goku wiped sweat from his brow, eyes gleaming with fierce determination mixed with profound respect. "Kept up?" he panted, the words strained against the titanic pressure. A savage grin split his face. "Let's find out!"
Space tore violently. Gocheta vanished—not as a blur, but as instantaneous absence. He reappeared directly *behind* Goku, elbow drawn back for a piston-driven strike aimed at the spine. Goku sensed it—not saw, *sensed*—the spatial tear a microsecond before impact. He twisted mid-air, impossibly fast, SSJ2 reflexes pushed to the absolute limit. Gocheta's elbow whistled past, grazing Goku's gi and tearing fabric. Before Gocheta could recover momentum, Goku was already countering—a spinning back fist lashing out like a golden whip, aimed squarely at Gocheta's temple. The fused warrior reacted, snapping his head back. The fist whistled past his nose, close enough to feel the displaced air sting his skin. They traded blows faster than thought, a hurricane of golden limbs and crackling energy—blocks rattling bones, deflected kicks kicking up glass shrapnel, each evasion measured in microns. The ground beneath them fractured into glowing webs with every missed strike, the sheer speed preventing solid footing. Goku landed a solid jab to Gocheta's ribs—*crunch*—only to eat a thunderous knee to the gut an instant later—*whump!*—forcing the air from his lungs in a choked gasp. They broke apart, hovering amidst swirling dust and sparking glass fragments, chests heaving, mirrored predatory grins splitting their faces. The dance was vicious, exhilarating, *equal*.
Gocheta's grin sharpened, Saiyan ferocity overriding Earthborn caution. One hand snapped downward, palm facing the shattered expanse. Pure golden ki coalesced instantly—a dense, swirling sphere the size of a wrecking ball, humming with devastating potential. The Big Bang Attack. Simultaneously, his other hand swept upward in a familiar arc. Blue-white lightning danced across his fingertips as blinding azure energy roared to life—a Kamehameha wave forming vertically against the bruised sky. The fused warrior poured both techniques into a single, unified torrent of destruction—Big Bang Attack feeding *into* the Kamehameha, twisting them into a spiraling helix of golden light and roaring sapphire plasma. The air screamed as it ripped apart. "BIG BANG KAMEHAMEHA!" Gocheta roared, the fused voice cracking the landscape itself. The colossal beam lanced forward—part drill, part tsunami—engulfing Goku in blinding light and incinerating heat before he could even blink.
Goku vanished. Instant Transmission. But Gocheta tracked the spatial tear—felt it like a phantom limb. He pivoted impossibly fast, the beam twisting mid-flight with terrifying precision, chasing Goku's reappearing silhouette across the glassy desolation. Molten trenches chased the beam's wake, glass boiling into vapor. Goku reappeared again—higher, dodging frantically—only for the beam to snap upwards, relentless. He blocked—crossed arms blazing with SSJ2 ki—just as the tip impacted. The collision wasn't sound; it was oblivion. A sphere of pure annihilation bloomed—gold and blue consuming everything. Goku's silhouette crumpled within it, swallowed by the inferno. Light obliterated sight; heat seared skin miles away; the ground liquefied into a bubbling lake of glass beneath the detonation point. Silence followed—brief, deafening—before the shockwave hit, hurling Piccolo and Vegeta backward like leaves. Fat Buu rolled away snoring.
Then—through the fading brilliance—golden light pulsed weakly within the crater's molten heart. Super Saiyan 2 aura flickered, battered but defiant. Goku staggered upright, arms burned and trembling, gi reduced to blackened shreds. Blood trickled from his lip, but his grin was pure, exhilarated fire. He wiped his mouth, eyes locking onto Gocheta's hovering form. "Alright," Goku rasped, the word thick with pain… and exhilaration. His fists clenched anew. "Now…" His aura flared violently—not brighter, but *deeper*, compressing inward. Lightning intensified. "...*my* turn."