The World Martial Arts Tournament grounds buzzed with noise and excitement, the small island packed to the brim with spectators from all over the world. Colorful banners fluttered in the ocean breeze, vendors shouted over one another, and the massive arena loomed proudly at the center, waiting to host battles that would shake the ground.
After clearing the punching machine test—or rather, surviving it—Goku, Krillin, Android 18, Vegeta, and Piccolo finally stepped into the main arena grounds.
Krillin let out a low whistle as he looked around.
"Man… it's even more crowded than last time."
Android 18 crossed her arms, unimpressed.
"Tch. This many people for a tournament? Annoying."
Piccolo's eyes swept over the stands, his expression calm but alert.
Goku, meanwhile, grinned from ear to ear, hands behind his head.
"Heh, it kinda reminds me of the old days."
Vegeta said nothing.
His arms were folded tightly across his chest, veins still faintly visible on his forearms. The remains of the punching machine—or rather, what used to be one—were already being hauled away behind them. He hadn't meant to destroy it completely… but he also hadn't held back.
Krillin glanced sideways at him.
"You know, Vegeta… you really didn't have to hit it that hard."
"Hmph." Vegeta scoffed. "If a machine can't withstand my strength, it has no place testing warriors."
Because of that little incident, Gohan and Videl were nowhere to be seen, still dealing with the aftermath and registration issues. For now, they'd missed the opening of the tournament entirely.
The Junior Tournament
On the opposite side of the grounds, a separate arena had been prepared.
The Junior World Martial Arts Tournament.
Unlike the adult division, this section carried a lighter atmosphere—at least at first. Parents chatted casually, some spectators laughed, and many assumed this would be little more than a cute sideshow before the "real" fights began.
Goten and Trunks stood among the other junior fighters, waiting.
Goten looked around curiously, hands tucked into his pockets, his expression relaxed.
"So this is it, huh?"
Trunks grinned, confidence written all over his face.
"Yeah. Should be easy."
Neither of them looked nervous.
That alone already set them apart.
The referee stepped forward, microphone in hand, and raised his voice.
"Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to the Junior Division of the World Martial Arts Tournament!"
The crowd clapped politely.
Then the referee smiled and continued.
"There is something special about this year's junior tournament. The winner will receive a cash prize of—"
He paused dramatically.
"TEN MILLION ZENI!"
The arena exploded.
"What?!" "Ten million?!" "For kids?!"
In the audience, Chi-Chi froze.
Her eyes widened.
Her pupils practically turned into Zeni symbols.
"…Ten… million?" she whispered.
The next second, she slammed both hands onto the railing in front of her.
"GOTEN. YOU HEAR THAT?! TEN! MILLION! ZENI!"
Goku flinched.
"Uh-oh."
Krillin sweatdropped.
"She's locked on now…"
The referee wasn't done.
"And there's more! The winner of the Junior Tournament will also earn the right to challenge the reigning World Champion—MR. SATAN!"
Another wave of cheers erupted.
Goten's eyes sharpened.
Mr. Satan.
His grip tightened just slightly.
Good, he thought. I was hoping you'd say that.
The Matches Begin
The tournament wasted no time.
One match after another, young fighters stepped into the ring, full of confidence, only to be crushed moments later.
Whenever Goten or Trunks entered the arena, the tone shifted completely.
Goten's first opponent charged at him screaming, fists swinging wildly.
Goten tilted his head, stepped aside, and lightly tapped the boy's shoulder with the side of his foot.
The opponent flew backward and rolled clean out of the ring.
Silence.
Then—
"OUT OF BOUNDS!"
The crowd erupted in confusion.
"What just happened?" "Did he even touch him?" "That kid barely moved!"
Trunks' matches weren't much different.
One opponent tried a flying kick.
Trunks ducked, grabbed the ankle, spun once, and gently tossed him outside the ring like a sack of rice.
Another easy win.
Laughter started to ripple through the stands.
"These kids are monsters!" "Is this even fair?"
Then came her.
A large, muscular woman stepped into the ring, cracking her knuckles. She laughed loudly as she looked down at Goten.
"Well ain't this cute?" she said. "Don't worry, kid. I'll go easy on ya."
Goten blinked.
"Oh. Okay."
She charged.
The moment she stepped into range, Goten moved.
One clean, precise kick—controlled, balanced, almost graceful.
The impact launched her straight up.
She vanished into the sky.
Five seconds passed.
Ten.
Then—
BOOM.
She crashed back down outside the ring, embedded halfway into the ground.
The entire arena went dead silent.
The referee stared, jaw slack.
"O-OUT OF BOUNDS!"
The crowd lost its mind.
"That kid just sent her flying!" "Is he human?!" "What are they feeding these children?!"
Chi-Chi pumped her fist.
"YES! THAT'S MY SON!"
Goku scratched his cheek nervously.
"…Maybe I should've trained him less?"
Piccolo's lips curved faintly upward.
"He's barely trying."
Vegeta said nothing.
But his eyes were locked on Goten.
Sharp.
Measuring.
Round after round, the results stayed the same.
No matter who stood in their way, Goten and Trunks crushed every opponent with ease, speed, and precision that didn't belong to children their age.
Soon, there were only two names left on the board.
The referee stepped into the center of the arena, voice echoing through the stadium.
"Ladies and gentlemen… we have reached the FINAL MATCH of the Junior World Martial Arts Tournament!"
The crowd roared.
"SON GOTEN!"
Cheers exploded.
"And… TRUNKS!"
Even louder cheers.
Goten and Trunks stepped into the ring, facing each other at last.
The noise faded into the background.
They smiled.
Not friendly.
Not hostile.
Just… excited.
The real fight was about to begin.
The arena felt different now.
Moments ago, the Junior Tournament had been loud—cheers, laughter, disbelief at how easily two children were dismantling grown fighters. But once the referee called out the final match, the noise slowly transformed into something heavier. Anticipation settled over the stadium like a tightening coil.
Two boys stood on opposite sides of the ring.
Son Goten.
Trunks Briefs.
Small bodies. Calm stances. Eyes locked.
Yet somehow, the entire arena felt like it was holding its breath.
The crowd buzzed with confused excitement. They had seen children fight before—talented ones, even—but this was different. Everyone could feel it. The air itself seemed sharper, charged with something invisible.
High above, in the audience seats, Goku leaned forward, elbows on his knees, a wide grin spreading across his face.
Goku: "Heh… finally."
Krillin adjusted his sunglasses nervously over his bald head.
Krillin: "Yeah… this is the one everyone's been waiting for."
Piccolo's arms were crossed, his sharp eyes never leaving the ring.
Piccolo: "They've been holding back this entire time."
Vegeta said nothing.
But his posture said everything.
His arms were folded tightly, chin raised just slightly, eyes locked on Trunks with the intensity of a warrior judging a successor. There was no doubt, no hesitation—only expectation.
Behind them, the late arrivals finally entered the audience section.
Gohan and Videl.
Videl was still rubbing her knuckles, irritation clear on her face.
Videl: "I still don't get why that machine exploded! All he did was punch it!"
Gohan gave an awkward laugh, scratching his head.
Gohan: "Y-Yeah… Vegeta didn't exactly… hold back."
Videl blinked.
Videl: "…Hold back?"
Her question was swallowed whole as the referee's voice echoed through the stadium.
Referee: "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! WE HAVE REACHED THE FINAL MATCH OF THE JUNIOR WORLD MARTIAL ARTS TOURNAMENT!"
The crowd erupted.
Cheers, whistles, stomping feet—the noise surged like a wave crashing against the ring.
Referee: "The winner of this match will receive TEN MILLION ZENI—the same prize as the adult division—AND earn the right to challenge the reigning World Champion… MR. HERCULE SATAN!"
The moment the words ten million zeni were spoken—
Chi-Chi shot to her feet.
Chi-Chi: "TEN—TEN MILLION?!"
Her eyes gleamed with a terrifying mix of greed and maternal pride.
Chi-Chi: "GOTEN! YOU HEAR THAT?! DON'T YOU DARE LOSE!!"
Bulma sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.
Bulma: "There it is…"
Down near the edge of the arena, Mr. Satan stiffened.
His face drained of color.
He had been watching the Junior matches with forced laughter, pretending this was all adorable fun—but now, standing backstage, hearing his name attached to that fight?
His hands trembled.
Satan (thinking): No… no, no, no… please tell me this is a joke…
Back in the ring, Trunks rolled his shoulders and glanced at Goten with a confident grin.
Trunks: "So… finals at last."
Goten smiled back—but there was something calm, almost unsettling, in his eyes.
Goten: "Yeah. Don't disappoint me."
The referee stepped back, preparing to signal—
But Trunks moved first.
He clenched his fists.
The air around him shifted.
A low rumble spread across the ring.
Videl's eyes widened.
Videl: "W-What's happening?"
Then—
BOOM.
Golden light exploded outward.
Wind tore across the arena as Trunks' hair flared upward, turning bright gold. His eyes shifted to emerald green, his aura roaring like a living flame.
The stadium fell into stunned silence.
Goku's jaw dropped.
Krillin nearly fell out of his seat.
Master Roshi choked on his drink.
Goku: "WHOA—!!"
Krillin: "H-He turned Super Saiyan?!"
Piccolo's eyes narrowed sharply.
Piccolo: "At that age…"
Android 18 tilted her head, impressed.
Android 18: "That's… insane."
Vegeta's lips curled into a proud, satisfied smirk.
Vegeta (thinking): That's my son.
Goku stared at Trunks, awe written all over his face—not jealousy, not bitterness.
Just honest admiration.
Goku: "Heh… incredible. It took me years of pain, loss, and training to reach that form… and he did it before he's even ten."
Vegeta scoffed lightly.
Vegeta: "Hmph. As expected."
Goku turned toward Gohan, eyes sparkling.
Goku: "Hey, Gohan… does Goten turn Super Saiyan too?"
The question rippled through the group.
Gohan froze.
For a fraction of a second, memories flashed through his mind—training sessions, blurred movements, his Super Saiyan 2 aura flaring at full power… and Goten standing there, calm, untransformed… unmoved.
Gohan swallowed.
Gohan: "…No."
Everyone blinked.
Krillin: "Huh?!"
Piccolo: "He can't?"
Android 18 frowned.
Android 18: "Then this isn't fair at all."
Krillin crossed his arms, frowning deeply.
Krillin: "See?! This is exactly why I said Super Saiyan should be banned in junior matches! How's Goten supposed to fight that?!"
Piccolo nodded slowly.
Piccolo: "He has a point."
Android 18 glanced toward Goten.
Android 18: "That kid's about to fight someone using a massive power boost."
Videl looked between the adults, completely lost.
Videl: "O-Okay, someone explain this to me. His hair turned gold, everyone's freaking out, and now you're saying it's… a power thing?"
No one answered her.
Because Gohan spoke again.
Gohan: "You don't have to worry about Goten."
Every head snapped toward him.
Goku.
Vegeta.
Krillin.
Piccolo.
Android 18.
Even Videl.
Goku: "What do you mean?"
Vegeta's eyes sharpened.
Vegeta: "Explain."
Gohan hesitated.
Inside, embarrassment burned.
I fought him…
I used Super Saiyan 2…
And I still couldn't completely overpower him.
Gohan clenched his fists.
Gohan (thinking): I can't say that. I won't.
Gohan: "He's fine… just the way he is."
That was all he said.
But the silence that followed was deafening.
Vegeta narrowed his eyes, studying Goten anew.
Piccolo's gaze deepened, sensing something he couldn't explain.
Krillin felt a chill crawl up his spine.
Videl stared at Goten, confusion slowly turning into awe.
Down in the ring, Goten stood relaxed—no aura, no transformation, no visible strain.
Chi-Chi's hands trembled as she clutched the railing.
Chi-Chi: "G-Goten… he's fighting a Super Saiyan…"
Bulma placed a hand on her shoulder.
Bulma: "Relax. They spar like this all the time. It just looks scarier because the stage is bigger."
Chi-Chi swallowed hard—but nodded.
The referee raised his hand.
Referee: "Fighters… are you ready?"
Goten nodded calmly.
Trunks grinned, golden aura blazing.
Trunks: "Always."
The referee stepped back.
Referee:
"BEGIN!"
The moment the referee's hand cut through the air and the word "BEGIN!" echoed across the stadium, the world seemed to narrow.
For the audience, it was noise, light, and excitement.
For the two boys in the ring—
It was silence.
Trunks moved first.
The ground beneath his feet cracked as he vanished in a flash of gold, his Super Saiyan aura surging violently outward. The shockwave rippled across the arena floor, snapping loose tiles and forcing the front rows of the audience to shield their faces.
To the crowd, it looked like Trunks had simply disappeared.
To the Z Fighters—
He was fast. Very fast.
Krillin's eyes widened.
Krillin: "That speed—!"
Vegeta's smirk deepened, pride burning in his eyes.
Vegeta: "That's the result of my training."
Trunks reappeared directly in front of Goten, fist already swinging, golden aura flaring as he poured raw power into the strike. It was a clean, direct punch meant to end the fight instantly.
But—
It missed.
Goten didn't jump back.
Didn't block.
Didn't flinch.
He turned.
Not away—but into the attack.
His body twisted at the last possible moment, Trunks' fist slicing past his cheek by mere centimeters. At the same time, Goten's foot slid across the arena floor in a smooth, circular step, his balance never once breaking.
Before Trunks could even register what had happened—
Goten struck.
Not with brute force.
With precision.
A short, snapping kick slammed into Trunks' ribs, angled upward, perfectly placed. The impact sent Trunks skidding backward several meters, boots tearing grooves into the stone.
The stadium exploded into noise.
Spectators gasped. Some stood up. Others blinked, confused.
"That kid just—did he kick him away?!" "But the golden one attacked first!" "How did he dodge that?!"
Trunks steadied himself, eyes wide—not in pain, but in disbelief.
Trunks: "What—?!"
He hadn't held back.
That punch should have landed.
Vegeta's eyes narrowed slightly.
Vegeta (thinking): That wasn't luck.
Trunks growled and surged forward again, aura flaring brighter as he threw a rapid combination—left, right, knee, elbow—each strike backed by Super Saiyan strength. His movements were sharp, aggressive, overwhelming, the style Vegeta had drilled into him relentlessly.
Power. Speed. Pressure.
But Goten flowed.
He moved like water slipping through cracks.
Each step was smooth, deliberate. His feet traced curved paths across the arena floor, his torso twisting and bending in ways that looked almost unnatural. He deflected Trunks' blows with open palms, redirected momentum with short, precise movements, and slipped past attacks by the width of a breath.
No wasted motion.
No unnecessary strength.
Just control.
Goku leaned forward so hard he nearly stood up.
Goku: "That movement…!"
Piccolo's eyes sharpened.
Piccolo: "He's not reacting late. He's moving before Trunks commits."
Krillin swallowed.
Krillin: "That kid's reading him."
Trunks felt it too.
Every time he attacked, Goten was already somewhere else—at his side, behind him, under his guard. And every counter hit landed where it hurt most: joints, ribs, pressure points that disrupted balance rather than dealing raw damage.
It was infuriating.
Trunks roared and powered up further, his aura exploding outward, forcing Goten to slide back a step as the ground trembled.
Trunks: "Stop dodging and fight me head-on!"
Goten finally spoke, calm as ever.
Goten: "I am."
Then he moved.
In an instant, he closed the distance—not with raw speed, but with perfect timing. Trunks swung, but Goten stepped inside the punch, his shoulder brushing Trunks' chest as he rotated his hips.
A palm strike slammed into Trunks' sternum.
Not hard.
Not flashy.
But devastating.
The force traveled through Trunks' body, knocking the breath from his lungs and lifting him off the ground. He flipped backward and barely managed to land on his feet, skidding to the edge of the ring.
The crowd went silent.
Then—
"What the hell was that?!" "That didn't even look strong!" "He hit him without glowing?!"
Videl stared, heart pounding.
Videl (thinking): He's not just strong… he's skilled.
Vegeta clenched his fists.
Vegeta (thinking): That technique…
Goku turned sharply toward Gohan.
Goku: "Gohan… what kind of martial art is Goten using?"
Gohan hesitated.
Everyone looked at him.
Krillin.
Piccolo.
Android 18.
Even Vegeta.
Gohan scratched his cheek awkwardly.
Gohan: "Uh… as far as I know… he invented it."
Silence.
Goku: "…He what?"
Gohan: "He said he was bored and had nothing better to do."
The reaction was instant.
Krillin: "ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!"
Piccolo: "That's impossible."
Android 18 raised an eyebrow.
Android 18: "At seven?"
Vegeta's eyes widened—just slightly.
Vegeta: "He created a martial art… on his own?"
Goku laughed, stunned.
Goku: "Hahaha… unbelievable."
Back in the ring, Trunks wiped blood from the corner of his mouth, breathing hard. His Super Saiyan aura flared brighter, more violent, frustration feeding into his power.
Trunks: "I'm not losing like this!"
He charged again—faster, stronger—unleashing everything Vegeta had taught him. His strikes came like a storm, each one capable of breaking stone, the pressure alone forcing shockwaves through the air.
This time, Goten didn't just evade.
He dominated.
Every time Trunks stepped in, Goten stepped around him.
Every kick was caught, redirected, punished.
Every punch was turned into an opening.
A sweep sent Trunks crashing to the ground.
Before he could rise, Goten was already above him, heel hovering inches from his chest—then pulling back at the last second.
Goten: "Get up."
Trunks' teeth clenched.
Trunks (thinking): He's… letting me.
That realization hurt more than any blow.
The audience was in chaos now—half screaming, half stunned into silence. No one had expected this. Not even the Z Fighters.
Chi-Chi's hands trembled—not with fear anymore, but awe.
Chi-Chi (thinking): That's… my son?
Vegeta stared at the ring, pride warring with disbelief.
Vegeta (thinking): Even at full power… Trunks can't gain ground.
Goku smiled—but there was something heavy behind it.
Goku (thinking): I wasn't there… and he still became this strong.
In the ring, Trunks stood again, aura blazing, chest heaving.
Goten settled into his stance once more—Renewal Taekwondo flowing through him naturally, effortlessly.
Goten: "Come on, Trunks."
The fight had only just begun.
And everyone watching knew it.
This wasn't a children's match anymore.
This was something else entirely.
The moment Goten settled back into his stance, something shifted in the air.
It wasn't visible—not yet—but every seasoned fighter in the stadium felt it. The flow of the match had changed. What had started as a one-sided display of skill was now turning into something sharper, heavier, more dangerous.
Trunks felt it first.
His Super Saiyan aura flared violently, golden flames licking higher around his body as frustration and determination fused into raw drive. His chest rose and fell with hard breaths, muscles tense, veins standing out along his arms.
This wasn't training.
This wasn't sparring.
This was the finals of the World Martial Arts Tournament.
And he refused to lose.
Trunks roared and charged again—this time faster than before, his speed ripping a sonic boom through the arena. The stone beneath his feet shattered as he closed the distance in an instant, unleashing a ferocious barrage of punches and kicks, each strike fueled by Super Saiyan power pushed closer to its limit.
This time, Goten didn't completely evade.
He met Trunks head-on.
Their fists collided mid-air, and the impact detonated like an explosion. A massive shockwave tore outward, cracking the arena floor and sending dust and debris blasting into the stands. Spectators screamed as the front rows were forced to shield themselves from the pressure alone.
The referee stumbled back, barely managing to stay upright.
In the stands—
Krillin's jaw dropped.
Krillin: "That… that was just a punch."
Piccolo's cape snapped violently in the wind.
Piccolo: "Their control is insane. If either of them lost focus for even a second…"
Android 18 narrowed her eyes.
Android 18: "This is already past junior level."
Vegeta said nothing.
His arms were crossed, but his fists were clenched so tightly his gloves creaked. Pride warred with something darker in his chest—a realization he didn't want to accept.
Back in the ring, Trunks pressed the attack harder, chaining his strikes together in rapid succession. His movements were sharp, aggressive, each blow designed to overwhelm through sheer force. Vegeta's influence was unmistakable—direct, relentless, unyielding.
But Goten adapted.
He began to move differently.
Where before his steps had been smooth and circular, now there was sharpness layered beneath the flow. His feet struck the ground with more authority, each movement sending small cracks spider-webbing across the arena floor. His counters hit harder, faster—still precise, but no longer gentle.
Renewal Taekwondo was evolving in real time.
Goten slipped inside Trunks' guard and unleashed a rapid sequence of kicks—low, mid, high—each one snapping out with terrifying speed. Trunks barely managed to block two before the third slammed into his shoulder, spinning him sideways.
He skidded across the ground, boots digging trenches through the stone.
Trunks snarled and twisted mid-slide, firing a ki blast without hesitation.
The energy beam tore through the air—
—and Goten was already gone.
He reappeared above Trunks, inverted, his heel crashing down like a hammer. Trunks crossed his arms just in time, but the impact still drove him into the arena floor with a thunderous explosion.
Stone erupted upward in a cloud of dust and debris.
The stadium shook.
The crowd went wild.
"THIS IS INSANE!" "THEY'RE KIDS?!"
Mr. Satan, watching from the sidelines, was sweating bullets. His trademark grin had vanished, replaced by pure, unfiltered terror.
Satan (thinking): That kid… that red-haired monster… and the golden one… I'm dead. I'm actually dead.
He glanced at the exit.
Then at the ring.
Then at the exit again.
Back in the crater, Trunks pushed himself up, coughing, aura flickering but still blazing. His eyes burned with stubborn fire.
Trunks: "I'm not done!"
He screamed as he poured more power into his Super Saiyan form. The golden aura exploded outward, ripping chunks of stone from the arena and lifting them into the air. The pressure slammed into the audience like a physical wall.
Several spectators were forced to retreat.
Chi-Chi clutched Bulma's arm, heart pounding.
Chi-Chi: "Goten—!"
Bulma swallowed.
Goten stood firm.
His red hair fluttered in the storm of ki, eyes calm, focused—excited.
For the first time since the fight began, he raised his own power.
Not fully.
Not even close.
But enough.
The ground beneath him cracked outward in a perfect circle. The air around his body distorted, pressure rolling outward in invisible waves that pushed back Trunks' aura.
The two forces collided.
The arena screamed.
Goku's eyes widened.
Goku: "He raised it again… but that's still nowhere near his limit."
Gohan felt a chill run down his spine.
Gohan (thinking): This is more than when we fought…
Vegeta's breath caught.
Vegeta (thinking): That pressure…
Trunks launched himself forward again, screaming as he put everything he had into a single, decisive charge. His speed pushed past what he'd shown before, golden lightning crackling through his aura as he drove toward Goten like a living missile.
This time—
Goten met him without moving an inch.
At the last possible moment, he stepped forward.
Not back.
Forward.
His palm struck Trunks' chest—not with brute force, but with perfectly timed rotational energy. Renewal Taekwondo's core principle activated: redirect, amplify, release.
The impact detonated.
A massive shockwave tore through the arena, splitting the ring cleanly in half. Stone exploded upward, chunks of the platform flying into the air as the barrier walls cracked and buckled.
The audience screamed.
Dust swallowed the ring.
For a moment, no one could see anything.
Then—
A figure flew out of the dust cloud and crashed into the far wall of the arena, embedded deep into the stone.
Trunks.
He coughed, blood dripping from his mouth, but his eyes were still burning.
He forced himself out of the wall, legs shaking, aura flickering violently.
Vegeta's jaw tightened.
Vegeta (thinking): He's still standing…
Goten walked out of the dust cloud slowly, calmly, barely winded. His breathing was steady, posture relaxed.
Goku laughed—half amazement, half disbelief.
Goku: "Hahaha… unbelievable…!"
Krillin shook his head.
Krillin: "I can't believe I'm saying this… but Trunks is giving it everything he's got—and it's still not enough."
Piccolo's voice was grave.
Piccolo: "This isn't about power anymore. Goten's fighting on another level entirely."
Videl watched in stunned silence, her mind struggling to process what she was seeing.
Videl (thinking): This… this isn't human.
Back in the ring, Trunks wiped his mouth and forced a grin.
Trunks: "You're… still holding back… aren't you?"
Goten smiled faintly.
Goten: "A little."
Trunks laughed—a raw, desperate sound.
Trunks: "Figures."
He clenched his fists again, golden aura surging higher, brighter, wilder than before.
Vegeta leaned forward slightly.
Vegeta: "Trunks…"
Goten lowered his stance, Renewal Taekwondo flowing through him more aggressively now. The air around him vibrated, the pressure rising steadily.
The fight wasn't over.
It was far from it.
And everyone watching knew—
What they had seen so far was only the beginning.
The arena no longer felt like a tournament stage.
It felt like a battlefield.
Cracks ran through the stone like veins, the ring split and uneven, chunks of rubble still floating in the air from the lingering pressure of clashing energies. Dust hung thick, shimmering as ki distorted the light itself.
At the center of it all stood two boys.
One breathing hard, golden aura flickering violently around him.
The other calm—too calm—red hair fluttering slightly in a pressure that should have crushed him.
Trunks wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his glove. His body screamed at him to stop. Every muscle burned. His lungs felt too small for the air they pulled in.
And yet—
He grinned.
Trunks: "You know… Dad always said… a Saiyan breaks his limits when he's cornered."
Vegeta's eyes narrowed sharply.
Vegeta (thinking): Trunks…
Trunks clenched his fists.
His Super Saiyan aura flared brighter, thicker, more violent than before. Golden lightning began to snap and crackle around his body—not just flickers, but sustained arcs that tore through the air and scorched the ground where they struck.
Goku's smile faded.
Goku: "…That's not just power anymore."
Piccolo's eyes widened.
Piccolo: "No… it can't be—"
Trunks threw his head back and screamed.
Not a roar of rage.
A scream of defiance.
His ki exploded outward in a blinding flash. The ground beneath him collapsed completely, forming a deep crater as raw pressure slammed outward, shattering the remaining sections of the arena floor. The shockwave hit the stands like a hurricane.
Spectators were forced to shield their faces.
Chi-Chi screamed Goten's name.
Vegeta took an involuntary step forward.
Vegeta: "TRUNKS—!"
The lightning intensified.
The golden aura sharpened, becoming denser, more refined. Trunks' hair spiked higher, wilder, electricity crawling over his body like living veins of power.
Then—
It snapped.
The pressure doubled.
The air screamed.
And Trunks stood there, chest heaving, eyes blazing with feral intensity.
Super Saiyan 2.
Silence.
Utter, absolute silence.
Then—
Goku whispered, stunned.
Goku: "…He did it."
Krillin's voice shook.
Krillin: "That's… that's the same form you used against Cell…"
Android 18 stared, wide-eyed.
Android 18: "He's a child."
Piccolo clenched his fists.
Piccolo: "Unbelievable…"
Vegeta's expression was frozen—pride, shock, disbelief, and something dangerously close to fear colliding in his eyes.
Vegeta (thinking): He reached it… already…
Trunks exhaled slowly, electricity dancing around him as he lifted his gaze to Goten.
Trunks: "Now… don't hold back anymore."
The crowd erupted—half screaming in awe, half in terror.
Mr. Satan had fallen to his knees.
Satan (thinking): I'm going to die. I'm actually going to die.
Goten stared at Trunks for a long moment.
Then—
He smiled.
Not cocky.
Not mocking.
Excited.
Goten: "Alright… that's more like it."
The moment he shifted his stance, everyone felt it.
Goten raised his power.
Not explosively.
Not violently.
But steadily.
Like the tide rising.
The pressure rolled outward in heavy waves, bending the air, grinding stone into powder beneath his feet. The floating debris around the arena began to tremble—then implode inward, crushed by invisible force.
Gohan's breath caught in his throat.
Gohan (thinking): That pressure… it's higher than Trunks'.
Goku swallowed.
Goku: "…He's still not transforming."
Lightning arced around Trunks as he launched himself forward, speed exploding beyond what he'd shown before. His movement tore a visible line through the air, sonic booms chaining behind him as he closed the distance in an instant.
He struck.
A devastating punch aimed straight for Goten's head.
Goten tilted his head—barely.
The punch missed by a hair's breadth, the displaced air ripping past Goten's cheek like a blade.
Trunks followed up instantly, unleashing a brutal combination of blows, each one carrying Super Saiyan 2 power, lightning snapping with every strike.
Goten moved.
Not retreating.
Flowing.
His body twisted, pivoted, dipped—each motion smooth, precise, perfectly timed. His feet danced across the broken arena as Renewal Taekwondo entered a higher state, movements faster, sharper, carrying far more force.
Goku leaned forward.
Goku: "That movement…!"
Piccolo's eyes widened.
Piccolo: "He's not just dodging—he's controlling the rhythm of the fight."
Goten slipped inside Trunks' guard and struck.
His knee slammed into Trunks' ribs, followed instantly by a spinning back kick that cracked against Trunks' jaw. Trunks was sent flying—but he twisted mid-air, stabilizing himself and firing a massive ki blast downward.
The beam obliterated a section of the arena.
Goten appeared above it.
He descended like a meteor, heel glowing with compressed energy.
Goten: "Sky-Breaker Descent."
The kick landed.
The impact detonated like a bomb, carving a massive crater into the ground and sending Trunks crashing downward through layers of shattered stone.
The entire stadium shook violently.
Several spectators were knocked off their feet.
Vegeta's eyes burned.
Vegeta: He named that technique on the spot…
Trunks burst out of the crater with a roar, lightning flaring wildly as he charged again, abandoning defense entirely. His punches came faster, heavier, each one threatening to shatter the ring completely.
Goten met him.
Their fists collided.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Each impact detonated with thunderous force, shockwaves ripping through the air and tearing chunks from the surrounding stone. Lightning clashed with invisible pressure, golden arcs snapping violently against Goten's raised output.
Krillin shouted over the noise.
Krillin: "This is insane! They're tearing the place apart!"
Goku turned sharply to Gohan.
Goku: "Seriously —what kind of martial art is Goten using?!"
Gohan hesitated—then sighed.
Gohan: "Don'y Know… He said he made it himself."
Gohan shook his head.
Gohan: "I fought him… as a Super Saiyan 2. And I couldn't overpower him."
Every single person felt that sentence like a punch to the chest.
Back in the ring, Trunks screamed and surged even harder, electricity exploding outward as he pushed his Super Saiyan 2 state beyond stability. His aura became jagged, wild—dangerously close to tearing his body apart.
Goten's eyes sharpened.
Goten: "Then I'll answer properly."
He inhaled.
Then moved.
His body blurred—not through speed alone, but through technique. His movements became almost unreadable, angles impossible, momentum bending unnaturally.
Goten: "Heavenly Rotation—Falling Star Form."
He struck.
Palm.
Elbow.
Heel.
Each blow landed with surgical precision, bypassing Trunks' raw power and striking through his guard, his balance, his center. Trunks was driven back step by step, each impact echoing like a drumbeat of dominance.
Vegeta's breath shook.
Vegeta (thinking): Even Super Saiyan 2 isn't enough…
Trunks roared and forced himself forward again, refusing to fall.
The arena trembled.
The fight raged on.
And everyone watching understood one terrifying truth—
This was no longer a junior tournament final.
This was the birth of something far greater.
And it still wasn't over.
The arena was barely holding together.
What remained of the ring looked more like a shattered ruin than a tournament stage. Deep fissures split the ground, chunks of stone hovered in the air under the pressure of clashing ki, and the barrier around the stadium flickered dangerously.
At the center—
Two boys stood.
One surrounded by violent golden lightning, aura flaring wildly as his power screamed at its limit.
The other… still calm.
Still untransformed.
Still winning.
Trunks staggered back, barely managing to stay on his feet. His Super Saiyan 2 aura flickered erratically now, lightning snapping and fading, his breathing ragged and uneven.
Every muscle in his body burned.
Every instinct told him the same terrifying truth.
Trunks (thinking): Why… won't he fall?
Vegeta's fists were clenched so tightly his gloves creaked.
Vegeta (thinking): This isn't possible… Base form… this far…
Goku's smile was gone completely now. His eyes were wide, sharp, locked onto the fight with a mix of awe and disbelief he hadn't felt in years.
Goku: "…This isn't just strength."
Piccolo finished the thought, voice low.
Piccolo: "It's mastery."
Goten stepped forward.
The ground cracked beneath his feet.
Not from raw power—but from control.
Goten: "You're amazing, Trunks. Really. Most people would've broken already."
Trunks snarled, forcing his ki higher.
Trunks: "Don't… look down on me!"
Lightning exploded outward as Trunks charged again, faster than before—faster than he had ever moved in his life. His fist glowed with compressed ki, aimed straight at Goten's chest.
The impact—
Never came.
Goten vanished.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
Goten reappeared behind Trunks, palm hovering inches from his back.
Goten: "You're relying on power alone now."
He struck.
A palm thrust—simple, precise, devastating.
The shockwave detonated outward like a cannon blast. Trunks screamed as his body was launched across the arena, smashing through what remained of the ring wall and skidding violently across the stone.
Dust billowed everywhere.
Chi-Chi clutched her chest, heart pounding.
Chi-Chi: "G-Goten…!"
Bulma stared, mouth open.
Bulma: "Trunks—"
Vegeta didn't answer.
Trunks pushed himself up, shaking violently. Blood dripped from his mouth now, staining the cracked stone beneath him.
Still—
He stood.
Trunks (thinking): I can't lose… not again…
With a roar that tore at his throat, Trunks forced his Super Saiyan 2 aura higher—far higher than his body was meant to handle. The lightning intensified violently, arcing uncontrollably, burning his skin, shredding his stamina.
And he charged.
This time, Goten didn't move.
He waited.
Trunks unleashed everything—punches, kicks, elbows, wild strikes fueled by desperation and pride. Each blow carried enough power to obliterate mountains.
And each one—
Was deflected.
Redirected.
Neutralized.
Goten's Renewal Taekwondo entered its highest flow state, his movements blurring into something almost unreal. He didn't block with force—he guided, shifted, turned Trunks' own power against him.
Goku whispered, stunned.
Goku: "…He's dismantling him."
Krillin swallowed hard.
Krillin: "That's Super Saiyan 2… and Goten's not even breathing hard."
Videl stood frozen, pale.
Videl: "This… this isn't normal… right?"
Android 18 shook her head slowly.
Android 18: "Not even close."
Trunks threw one final punch—everything he had left behind it.
Goten caught it.
Barehanded.
The sound echoed like a gunshot.
The entire stadium fell silent.
Trunks' eyes widened in pure shock.
Goten looked at him—not cruelly, not mockingly—but with quiet finality.
Goten: "I told you… I'd be waiting."
He released Trunks' fist and stepped back, drawing a deep breath.
The pressure around him surged—not explosively, but condensed, coiling tightly around his body like a compressed star.
Gohan felt it instantly.
Gohan (thinking): He's focusing everything…
Goten raised one leg, energy spiraling around it in a violent vortex.
Goten: "Final Renewal Art…"
The wind screamed.
Goten: "—Heaven-Shattering Dragon Kick."
He vanished.
The next instant, his kick connected with Trunks' midsection.
There was no explosion.
No flash.
Just—
Impact.
The sound that followed wasn't thunder.
It was silence breaking.
Trunks' body folded around the kick, his Super Saiyan 2 aura shattering like glass as he was launched at impossible speed. He flew straight through the air, over the boundary, past the arena, and slammed into the outer wall with a bone-shattering crash.
He slid down.
Unconscious.
Out of bounds.
Dead silence.
No one breathed.
No one moved.
The referee stared, shaking, eyes locked on Trunks' unmoving body beyond the ring.
Then—slowly—he raised his hand.
Referee (voice trembling):
"Trunks… is out of the arena."
He swallowed.
Referee:
"Winner of the Junior World Martial Arts Tournament—Son… Goten."
The stadium exploded.
Cheers, screams, disbelief crashing together in a deafening wave.
Goku exhaled slowly, eyes shining.
Goku: "…Incredible."
Vegeta closed his eyes.
Not in anger.
In acceptance.
Vegeta (thinking): We were wrong… all of us.
Chi-Chi burst into tears, laughing and crying at the same time.
Chi-Chi: "He won… he actually won…!"
Mr. Satan collapsed backward, pale as a ghost.
Satan: "…I'm finished."
Goten stood alone in the shattered arena, chest rising calmly, eyes drifting toward Trunks—then toward the stands.
Toward his father.
Goku met his gaze.
And smiled.
Proud.
Awed.
Almost humbled.
This fight was over.
But the consequences of it—
Were only just beginning.
The roar of the crowd did not fade immediately.
Even after the referee's voice echoed through the shattered stadium, even after the dust began to settle, the air still vibrated with disbelief. Cracked stone lay scattered across the arena floor like the aftermath of a natural disaster, the ring boundary barely recognizable anymore. What was once a proud tournament stage now looked as if two forces of nature had collided there—and lost control.
At the center of it all, Goten stood quietly.
Across from him, beyond what remained of the ring, Trunks lay unconscious, his chest rising and falling steadily. The golden aura that had once blazed around him was gone, leaving behind a boy no different from any other at first glance—except for the proof of what he had just achieved.
Goten did not celebrate.
He did not raise his arms or acknowledge the crowd.
Instead, he walked toward Trunks.
Gohan noticed the movement immediately. Without drawing attention, he reached into his pocket and flicked something forward with practiced ease. Goten caught it mid-air without turning around.
A Senzu Bean.
He knelt beside Trunks, lifting his head carefully and pressing the bean between his lips.
"Don't sleep through this," Goten muttered quietly. "You'll regret it."
The reaction was instantaneous.
Trunks inhaled sharply as vitality surged back into his body, muscles tightening, injuries vanishing as if they had never existed. His eyes snapped open, unfocused at first, then slowly sharpening as awareness returned.
"…Ow," Trunks muttered, then blinked. "Wait—why do I feel fine?"
He sat up.
And froze.
His gaze traveled outward—over the fractured tiles beneath his hands, over the collapsed arena wall, over the horrified yet exhilarated faces staring back at him from every direction. The realization hit him all at once.
Trunks stared at the destruction for several long seconds.
"…Did we do this?"
Goten glanced around, then shrugged lightly.
"Looks like it."
There was a pause.
Then Trunks let out a short, incredulous laugh, rubbing the back of his head.
"…Wow. We really messed up the ring."
Goten laughed too—not proudly, not loudly, but with the same embarrassed disbelief.
"Yeah," he admitted. "We definitely went too far."
The tension that had gripped the stadium finally loosened.
Goten stood and extended a hand. Trunks took it without hesitation, allowing himself to be pulled back to his feet. For a moment, the two boys simply stood there, surrounded by rubble, sweat-soaked, breathing hard—not as enemies, but as rivals who had just crossed a line together.
Then Goten spoke, his voice calm and sincere.
"You were amazing, Trunks. I'm not exaggerating. I honestly didn't think you'd reach that level already. Super Saiyan 2… that's something even most adults never achieve."
Trunks blinked, clearly caught off guard.
Coming from Goten, that praise meant something.
He grinned, pride flickering in his eyes—not arrogance, but resolve.
"Heh. Guess Dad's training wasn't for nothing."
His expression sharpened.
"But don't think this is the end. One day, I'll reach your level."
He clenched his fist, smiling wider.
"And when I do—I'll beat you."
Goten met his gaze without hesitation.
"Good," he said simply. "That's how it should be."
A brief silence followed.
"I'll be waiting."
The meaning behind those words was clear. Not mockery. Not dismissal. A promise.
The Adults Watching
In the stands, reactions were quieter—but heavier.
Goku had gone still, his usual excitement muted by something deeper. He watched the two boys standing amid the wreckage, not boasting, not posturing, but acknowledging each other as equals. His chest tightened.
Goku (thinking):
That wasn't just strength…
He remembered his own childhood, the long road, the battles that had broken him down before building him back up. Goten had skipped none of the emotional understanding—only the suffering.
Goku exhaled slowly.
He didn't just surpass us in power… he's already ahead in spirit.
Vegeta stood with his arms crossed, jaw clenched—not in anger, but restraint. His eyes never left Trunks.
Vegeta (thinking):
He pushed himself beyond his limits.
Trunks hadn't lost because of hesitation. He hadn't faltered from fear.
He lost because his opponent stands somewhere else entirely.
The realization stung—but it didn't burn.
Instead, something sharper formed.
Resolve.
Vegeta (thinking):
Then I'll make sure my son climbs high enough to reach him.
Beside them, Piccolo's expression was unreadable, though his narrowed eyes spoke volumes.
Piccolo (thinking):
That child fights like someone who already understands battle… not instinct, not imitation—understanding.
Krillin swallowed, hands clasped behind his head.
"Yeah," he muttered. "I'm officially glad I retired."
Android 18 crossed her arms, unimpressed on the surface—but thoughtful beneath it.
"At this rate," she said flatly, "the adults are just background noise."
Videl stood silently, her worldview visibly cracking. This wasn't strength she could train toward. This wasn't a gap she could close.
This was a different world.
Chi-Chi pressed a hand to her chest, torn between pride and lingering fear. Watching Goten laugh—healthy, breathing, smiling—was the only thing keeping her grounded.
He's still a child, she reminded herself.
Even if the world no longer treated him like one.
The referee cleared his throat nervously, trying to restore order to a stadium that had just witnessed history being rewritten.
The fight was over.
But nothing else was.