Outside the base, beyond the steel walls and sterile corridors, the barren mountains of Planet 79 trembled under a storm of golden light.
Four figures streaked across the sky, colliding with earth splitting force.
Each one wore the same armor.
Each one had the same expression.
Each one carried the same overwhelming aura.
All four were Vegeta.
A technique born from obsession and frustration.
A technique Vegeta created after studying Tien's splitting technique, Krillin's afterimage variations, Piccolo's self replication, and countless other tricks from the original timeline.
Four bodies.
Four minds.
One will.
He used it as the ultimate training method.
To fight himself.
To surpass himself.
To break his limits by confronting three perfect copies of his own instincts.
One against one was already difficult.
One against three erased even the possibility of victory.
Boom. Crash. Crack. Boom.
Every collision tore apart the atmosphere.
Shockwaves twisted the sky.
The ground cratered again and again, reshaping the landscape into a field of destruction.
Four Super Saiyans, each nearing one billion in raw power, could easily level the planet if they slipped for even a moment.
Planet 79 was tiny compared to Earth, barely a fragment of its size. It should not have survived even one session of this madness.
Inside the base, the soldiers who served Vegeta trembled.
They already knew how strong their king was, but witnessing this new level of power—this impossible, sacred, terrifying force—crushed their hearts anew.
They were not harmed.
They were not threatened.
But fear was instinctive.
Fear kept them loyal.
Fear made Bulma's authority absolute.
Vegeta roared, slamming one clone into the mountainside.
"Damn it! Not even this pressure is enough to force a breakthrough?! Is Super Saiyan Second Grade really this difficult to achieve!"
His voice echoed through the desolate land.
For more than a month, Vegeta had pursued one goal with absolute single mindedness.
Super Saiyan Two.
Even knowing the future, even holding knowledge no mortal Saiyan possessed, he had not found a shortcut. No trick. No special emotional trigger. No magical catalyst.
Only slow progress.
Only relentless training.
Only the grind of breaking his body again and again.
Twice he had tried to force the Golden Great Ape, hoping to use that divine transformation to trigger a leap toward the next stage.
Twice it failed.
The ape refused to turn gold.
The higher transformation would not awaken.
His S cells were not yet sufficient.
His base power was still too low.
He had always laughed at fan stories where characters jumped straight to Super Four or higher with no buildup.
Now he understood even more clearly.
Without Super Two, Super Three meant nothing.
Super Four was a fantasy.
Ultra Instinct was a joke.
He envied those with unnatural blessings, those who awakened godly power at birth, those with perfect plot armor.
He had none of that.
But at least… he was Vegeta.
He had pride, skill, and the absolute will to ascend.
"Stop drifting off in the middle of combat!" one clone barked.
"Focus. Fight properly," another demanded.
"Power is not given. You seize it yourself," the third shouted.
The clones attacked in perfect rhythm, dragging Vegeta from his spiral of frustration.
Three extra minds lecturing him at once finally snapped him back to clarity.
Right.
He already knew these truths.
He simply needed the reminder.
With renewed focus he counterattacked, slamming a fist into one clone's abdomen and flaring his aura to blast the others back.
His experience had grown.
The more he fought his clones, the better he adapted.
They learned as he learned, but his main consciousness had greater flexibility and instinct.
They were full bodies.
Full power.
He could even control all four simultaneously if he wished.
But before he could deepen the battle—
A sudden tremor rushed through his mind.
He froze.
The clones froze with him.
They lifted their heads toward the distant stars.
"That feeling…"
"That presence…"
"Porunga."
"The cooldown is finished. The Dragon Balls have awakened."
Each of his bodies murmured the same conclusion.
The clones dissolved, merging back into a single Vegeta.
He recalled all the battle feedback instantly.
Without wasting another breath he used Instant Transmission, returning to the base in a blink.
He sought Bulma immediately.
"Bulma. The Dragon Balls have reactivated. They summoned Porunga."
Bulma froze, eyes wide.
Then grabbed his wrist with urgency.
"Well? What are we waiting for! Go!"
Vegeta did not bother with the recovery chamber.
No time to repair injuries or refine his gains.
With another Instant Transmission he vanished across the stars.
Back to Namek.
—
Namek.
Porunga towered above the sky once more, his luminous form stretching over the horizon.
Every surviving Namekian stood gathered beneath him.
Goku.
Gohan.
Krillin.
All were present.
The Dragon Balls had finally cooled.
This time, they summoned Porunga the moment they realized the cooldown ended.
But when the great dragon asked for their first wish—
The three of them fell completely silent.
Not because they lacked ideas.
Because they lacked Bulma.
The one who always calculated the perfect wish.
Krillin suggested one thing… but it left loopholes.
Gohan suggested another… but it raised problems.
Nail suggested a third… but it clashed with the other two.
They exchanged confused looks.
For the first time in their lives—
They realized none of them actually knew how to plan an optimal wish.
Porunga waited.
And the three of them stood frozen.
Utterly lost.
~~~~~~
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