The silence following Daima's declaration hung in the air like a held breath. Every eye at Bulma's birthday party was fixed on the small Goku lookalike who had just crashed the Super Saiyan God ritual in the most literal way possible.
Regular Goku blinked, still rubbing the top of his head where Daima had landed. "Stronger than me? Really?" His expression shifted from confusion to something far more familiar—excitement. That pure, childlike thrill he got whenever someone claimed to be powerful. "That's awesome! Wanna fight?!"
"Kakarot, focus!" Vegeta snapped. "We have a God of Destruction threatening to blow up the planet, and you want to spar with your miniature clone?!"
"But Vegeta, he said he's stronger than me! I gotta know if that's true!"
Daima—because that's how Derek now thought of himself, fully committed to his new identity—was having an internal crisis of epic proportions. On one hand, this was literally his dream come true. He was standing in front of the Z-Fighters, in the body of Daima Goku, with all the power he had spent months arguing about on Twitter.
On the other hand, Beerus the Destroyer was about thirty feet away and looking at him like he was a particularly interesting new dessert.
Okay, okay, calm down, Daima thought frantically. You know everything about this timeline. You've watched the Battle of Gods arc like fifty times. You know exactly how this plays out. Beerus fights Goku, Goku goes Super Saiyan God, they have an epic battle, and Earth gets saved.
But the ritual got interrupted because you landed on Goku's head like an idiot.
So now what?
"Interesting," Whis said, floating even closer to Daima. His staff tapped against his chin thoughtfully as he examined the small Saiyan with those unnervingly perceptive eyes. "Very, very interesting. Lord Beerus, this child's energy signature is quite unlike anything I've encountered before. It's Saiyan, certainly, but it's been... refined. Altered. As if it's been filtered through an entirely different dimensional frequency."
Beerus rose from his seat fully now, stretching languidly like a cat waking from a nap. "Is that so?" He began walking toward the group, and Daima could feel the pressure of his mere presence increasing with each step. "Then perhaps this little one can provide the entertainment I was looking for. The Super Saiyan God prophecy mentioned nothing about size requirements, after all."
Oh shit oh shit oh shit—
"Hold on," Piccolo stepped forward, his cape billowing dramatically despite the lack of wind. "Before anyone does anything reckless, we need answers. Who are you? Where did you come from? And why do you have Goku's face?"
All eyes turned back to Daima.
Think. THINK. What would Goku say? No wait, I'm not trying to be Goku. I'm Daima. I'm the BETTER Goku. The one I spent months defending online. I need to prove that all my arguments were right.
But how do I prove I'm stronger without actually fighting? I've never been in a real fight in my life. My old life, anyway. This body has muscle memory, right? The cosmic entity said it would have Daima Goku's instincts...
"Well?" Vegeta demanded impatiently. "Are you going to answer, or just stand there looking like a miniature idiot?"
Something clicked in Daima's mind. Not a conscious decision, but an instinct. A deep, primal knowledge that existed in his new Saiyan cells. He remembered every transformation he had catalogued in his spreadsheets, every power level he had calculated, every argument he had made about Daima Goku's superiority.
And he realized he could feel them. All of them. Sitting inside him like coiled springs waiting to be released.
Holy shit. I can actually DO this.
"You want to know who I am?" Daima said, his voice coming out higher than he expected—a child's voice, but with an edge of confidence that surprised even him. "Fine. I'll show you."
"Show us?" Gohan raised an eyebrow. "Show us what?"
Daima closed his eyes and reached inside himself. It was easier than he expected—like flexing a muscle he'd always had but never used. The energy was right there, waiting.
Super Saiyan.
His eyes snapped open, now teal instead of black. His hair stood up, shifting from black to brilliant gold. A golden aura exploded around his small form, sending shockwaves rippling across the party grounds. Tables flipped. Decorations went flying. Several of Bulma's guests who hadn't already fled now did so at top speed.
"He's a Super Saiyan!" Goten exclaimed, his eyes wide with wonder.
"So what?" Vegeta scoffed, though his eyes had narrowed with interest. "Any Saiyan worth their blood can achieve that form."
"I'm not done," Daima said.
He pushed further. The energy inside him responded eagerly, almost desperately, as if it had been waiting for someone to finally unleash it.
Super Saiyan 2.
Lightning crackled around his golden aura. His hair grew slightly more rigid, more defined. The ground beneath his feet cracked and cratered from the pressure of his energy alone.
"Super Saiyan 2," Piccolo observed, his voice tight. "At that size... the power output is remarkable."
"Still not impressed," Vegeta said, though he had unconsciously shifted into a more defensive stance.
Super Saiyan 3.
This one hurt. Daima felt the energy tear through him like fire, but it was a good pain—a powerful pain. His hair exploded outward and downward, cascading past his shoulders, past his waist, flowing behind him like a golden waterfall. His brow ridge became more pronounced, his expression more fierce. The aura around him intensified tenfold, and the shockwave this time actually knocked Goten and Trunks off their feet.
"WHAT?!" Vegeta's composure finally cracked. "Super Saiyan 3?! That form is supposed to be nearly impossible to achieve!"
Regular Goku was watching with an expression of pure, unadulterated joy. "This is incredible! You can do it too! Man, I really wanna fight you now!"
"Fascinating," Whis commented, seemingly unbothered by the massive energy output. "Each transformation is distinctly different from our Goku's versions. The energy frequency is similar but not identical. It's as if the same song is being played on a different instrument."
Beerus had stopped walking. He was watching Daima with genuine interest now, his arms crossed over his chest. "Not bad for a warm-up. But if this is all you have, I'm going to be disappointed."
Daima grinned. Actually grinned. Because he knew what came next.
This is the part they never believed, he thought. This is what I argued about for MONTHS. Let's see them deny it now.
"Warm-up?" Daima laughed—a sound that was equal parts childlike and dangerous. "I haven't even gotten started."
He let the Super Saiyan 3 form drop, his hair returning to its normal black spikes, his aura fading. Everyone tensed, confused by the apparent power-down.
"What are you doing?" Gohan asked cautiously.
"Something different," Daima replied.
He reached for a different kind of energy this time. Not the explosive, aggressive power of the Super Saiyan transformations. Something deeper. Something more primal. Something that connected to the very essence of what it meant to be a Saiyan.
The Great Ape power. The Oozaru form. But controlled. Refined. Compressed.
Super Saiyan 4.
The transformation hit him like a freight train.
His body GREW. Not just his power—his actual physical form. He shot up from his child-sized frame, bones extending, muscles expanding, until he stood at full adult height. Red fur sprouted across his body, covering his arms, his chest, his back. His hair remained black but grew wild and untamed. His eyes shifted to a golden yellow with red outlines. His aura turned crimson, blazing around him like divine fire.
And the power—oh GOD, the power. It was intoxicating. It was overwhelming. It was everything Daima had ever argued about and MORE.
He stood there, fully transformed, a perfect Adult Super Saiyan 4 Daima Goku, and the entire party had gone absolutely silent.
"What... what IS that?!" Krillin's voice came from somewhere in the crowd, trembling with disbelief.
"That's not any transformation I've ever seen," Piccolo said, his voice barely above a whisper. "That energy... it's not God Ki, but it's something equally profound. It's like... pure Saiyan essence, concentrated and refined."
Regular Goku's jaw had dropped so far it looked like it might detach. "Whoa... WHOA! That's so COOL! How did you do that?! I want to do that!"
Vegeta said nothing. He was staring at Daima with an expression that mixed shock, envy, and barely suppressed rage in equal measure. His fists were clenched so tight that his gloves were creaking.
But it was Beerus's reaction that Daima cared about most.
The God of Destruction had stopped cold. His eyes were wide—genuinely wide—and his tail had gone stiff behind him. For the first time since he had arrived on Earth, Beerus looked... surprised.
"Whis," he said slowly, not taking his eyes off Daima. "What am I looking at?"
"I... am not entirely certain, my Lord," Whis admitted, and there was a note of genuine uncertainty in his usually composed voice. "This transformation bypasses the divine energy pathways entirely. It's drawing power from a completely different source—the primal Saiyan biology itself, but elevated to an unprecedented degree. It's simultaneously more primitive and more refined than God Ki. Quite paradoxical, really."
"And the power level?" Beerus pressed.
Whis was quiet for a moment, his staff glowing faintly as he took readings. When he spoke again, his voice was carefully measured.
"Substantial. Very substantial indeed."
Daima flexed his new adult hands, marveling at the sensation. He remembered watching Dragon Ball GT as a kid—before he had become a "serious" power scaler who dismissed it as non-canon garbage. He remembered how cool Super Saiyan 4 had looked, how different it was from the god forms that came later.
And now he WAS Super Saiyan 4. The Daima version, which in the anime had been different—more compact, more childlike even in its transformed state. But this... this was the classic GT-style Super Saiyan 4. Adult. Powerful. Primal.
The cosmic entity must have merged them, Daima realized. Or maybe my belief in GT's version of the form influenced how it manifested. Either way...
This is EXACTLY what I needed to prove my point.
"You wanted to know who I am," Daima said, his voice now deeper, more resonant in his adult form. "I'm Goku. A different Goku. From a different dimension where we walk a different path to power. And in my dimension..." He let a cocky smirk cross his face—the same smirk regular Goku wore when he was about to fight someone strong. "We don't need God Ki to reach the top."
He held the form for a moment longer, letting everyone drink in the sight. Then, deliberately, he powered down.
The red fur receded. His body shrank, compressing back down to its child-sized form. The crimson aura faded to nothing. Within seconds, he was back to being a small Goku in Daima's distinctive outfit, looking for all the world like he hadn't just displayed power that rivaled the gods.
"That's my answer," Daima said simply. "Now. I believe you were in the middle of something before I... dropped in?"
Regular Goku shook his head like a dog shedding water, trying to process everything he had just witnessed. "That was AMAZING! I've never seen anything like that! Where did you learn that?! Can you teach me?! Do you want to—"
"KAKAROT!" Vegeta finally exploded. "FOCUS! Beerus! Destruction of Earth! Super Saiyan God! REMEMBER?!"
"Oh, right," Goku scratched his head sheepishly. "I got distracted."
"You ALWAYS get distracted," Bulma shouted from behind an overturned table where she had taken cover. "And whoever you are, small Goku, you owe me for the property damage!"
"Add it to my tab," Daima replied without thinking—a phrase he had typed countless times on Twitter when people demanded "proof" of his claims.
Wait, I actually said that out loud. In front of everyone. Oh god, I'm still acting like I'm online.
But before he could cringe at himself, Beerus spoke.
"You." The God of Destruction pointed directly at Daima. "That form you just showed. Super Saiyan 4, you called it?"
Daima nodded cautiously.
"It's not God Ki," Beerus continued, "but it's not nothing, either. It's raw. Primal. Unrefined in some ways, but pure in others." His lips curled into a smile that showed far too many teeth. "I like it."
"You... like it?" Daima repeated uncertainly.
"It's different. Unexpected. I came here looking for the Super Saiyan God of prophecy, and instead I find..." Beerus gestured vaguely at Daima. "Whatever you are. A dimensional anomaly with an interesting transformation." His smile widened. "Tell me, little one. Would you like to fight me instead?"
Every nerve in Daima's body screamed at him to say no. This was BEERUS. The God of Destruction. The being who had one-shot Super Saiyan 3 Goku without breaking a sweat. The being who had destroyed planets because he didn't like the food. The being who—
"Yes."
The word was out of Daima's mouth before he could stop it.
WHAT?! WHY DID I SAY THAT?! THAT'S NOT WHAT I—
But even as panic flooded his mind, another part of him—the part that had spent months arguing on Twitter, the part that had died defending Daima Goku's honor, the part that had BELIEVED with absolute conviction that Daima Goku was stronger—that part was thrilled.
This is it, that part whispered. This is your chance to prove everything. Every argument. Every calculation. Every sleepless night defending your position. It all comes down to this.
Daima Goku vs. Beerus the Destroyer.
Live and in person.
Time to find out if the power scaling was real.
Beerus's smile became genuinely pleased. "Excellent. Finally, someone with a spine." He turned to Whis. "Clear a space. I want to see what this little Saiyan can really do."
"Of course, Lord Beerus," Whis replied, tapping his staff against the ground. A shimmering barrier appeared around the party grounds, containing the area and—presumably—protecting it from the destruction to come.
Regular Goku stepped forward, his expression conflicted. "Hey, wait. If anyone's gonna fight Beerus, it should be me. That's why we were doing the whole ritual thing, right?"
"You can have your turn after," Beerus said dismissively. "If there's anything left of him."
"HEY!" Daima protested, his childish voice cracking slightly. "I'm standing right here!"
"Yes, you are. Now transform into that interesting form again." Beerus cracked his neck, his aura beginning to flicker around him—purple and ominous. "Let's see if you can back up that confidence."
Daima swallowed hard.
Okay. Okay. I can do this. I have Daima Goku's body. Daima Goku's power. Daima Goku's muscle memory and instincts. And I have something none of them have—I KNOW how this fight is supposed to go. I know Beerus's patterns, his weaknesses, his personality. I've analyzed this arc inside and out.
The only question is... was I right?
Is Daima Goku really strong enough to fight a God of Destruction?
He took a deep breath. Centered himself. Reached for that primal Saiyan power once again.
Super Saiyan 4.
The transformation ripped through him, and once again he stood as an adult, red fur blazing, golden eyes fierce, crimson aura roaring around him like a living thing.
Across from him, Beerus raised one finger.
"Come," the God of Destruction said simply.
Daima exploded forward.
Please let my calculations be right, was his last coherent thought before the battle began.
Please.