Darkness was not empty.
It was sticky, hot, and tasted horribly of burnt cocoa.
Krillin couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't even scream, though he was trying with all his strength. His consciousness floated somewhere between absolute terror and complete humiliation.
'I was eaten. Turned into chocolate and—'
Host stabilized. Initiating activation.
The voice wasn't his.
It didn't come from outside, nor exactly from within. It was as if someone had turned on a radio directly inside his brain.
'What?!'
Neural connection established. Interface synchronized.
Status: Operational.
Suddenly, a light appeared before his eyes—eyes? did he have eyes again?—forming a translucent holographic panel. Blue, like the sky on a clear day at Master Roshi's island.
Krillin blinked.
He was… lying down? No. Floating. His body—his body existed again!—was curled in a fetal position in an endless white void. And in front of him, the panel glowed with information:
STATUS
Name: Krillin
Age: 24 years
Power Level: 206
Note: Pre-Raditz power level. Weak, but you've seen worse days.
"—Hey!"
Krillin finally found his voice. It came out as an indignant squeak.
"Weak?! I just got eaten by a creature 500 times stronger than me! Cut me some slack!"
The holographic panel flickered, as if shrugging.
Discount denied. Facts are facts.
The voice—or whatever this was—now sounded less mechanical. More… casual. Almost mocking.
"Who are you?" Krillin spun in the void, searching for a source. "What is this? Where am I? Did I die? Again?"
One question at a time, walking bald spot.
Krillin froze.
"…Excuse me?"
The panel blinked. This time, new words appeared, as if the system were formally introducing itself after an inside joke:
Name: Z
Classification: Soul Support System
Function: Host, protect, and improve the designated user.
Note: The designation "walking bald spot" was a friendly joke. Accurate, but friendly.
Krillin frowned. A lot to process, but manageable.
"Soul Support… system? You're saying I died and turned into a… a computer program?"
Worse. You turned into chocolate, died, were digested, and then your soul was intercepted by me on its way to the Other World.
"Intercepted?!"
Strong term. Adopted.
Krillin ran a hand over his head—bald, yes, the hair was gone, thanks for noticing—and tried not to panic.
"Why?!"
Z was silent for a moment. When it spoke again, the mocking tone had softened.
Because you deserved a second chance.
Krillin opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
"…What?"
I saw everything, Krillin. Your entire life. From the Orin Temple to the fight against Frieza. From your death by Tambourine to… well, to now.
A pause.
I saw you explode. I saw you sacrifice yourself. I saw you protect children who weren't even yours. I saw you die trying to save your daughter and friends, even knowing what would happen.
The white void seemed quieter.
I thought, this guy deserves more than becoming Majin poop.
"…Poop?"
Yes, digested chocolate becomes—
"I GOT IT!" Krillin buried his face in his hands. "My God, I die, end up in digital limbo, and get insulted by a sarcastic hologram."
Hologram is reductive. I am a conscious entity linked to your soul.
"You just called me Majin poop!"
It was a factual description of your post-mortem state.
Krillin sighed deeply, exasperated.
"Fine. Fine…" He lifted his head. "Then why send me to now? To this place?"
The holographic panel changed. Now it displayed an image—no, a memory. The familiar landscape of Earth, peaceful. The blue sea. The Kame House island. And there, his master and the turtle resting at the shore.
Timeline
Current Date: October 26, Year 749
Event: 5 months before Raditz's arrival
ALERT: Raditz arrives in 149 days.
ALERT: Vegeta and Nappa arrive in 434 days.
ALERT: Frieza arrives in approx—
"Wait, wait, WAIT!"
Krillin lunged at the panel as if he could grab it.
"Raditz?! Vegeta?! Frieza?! You're telling me I went back in time?!"
Yes. And I'm also telling you your current power level is 206. Raditz's is 1,500. For context.
Krillin felt his stomach—did he even have one?—drop.
"…Damn."
Damn is a strong word. I would use challenge.
"Challenge?!" Krillin gestured wildly at the floating information. "Raditz alone is almost eight times stronger than me! And you want me to face Vegeta? Frieza? Buu?!"
This was insane! Humans evolved their power far more slowly than Saiyans. Even if Krillin increased his strength as much as possible in those five months, he would at best reach Raditz's level—not to mention Vegeta and Frieza!
Krillin, I just want you to try.
The answer came quickly. Dry. Without mockery.
Krillin stopped.
I want you to try, Krillin. Because last time, you did. Even knowing you had no chance. Even when Buu turned you into chocolate. You tried.
The holographic panel shone brighter.
Almost no one tries. Almost no one is brave enough. But you are.
The white void felt less empty now. Or maybe it was just Krillin, feeling something warm in his chest. And cold at the same time.
Krillin might never admit it, but he had always felt like a failure for not being able to keep up with Goku as the years passed. They had once been rivals, with power levels not so different. How had everything changed so fast? How had the gap grown so wide? It was something Krillin could never answer—and he hated himself for it.
Hated himself for falling behind, for being reduced to a mere useless spectator in the important battles, for the only way he could protect those he loved being to sacrifice himself so they could have time to escape.
"There are others who would've done the same as me. Yamcha, Tien, and many others."
Pfft—Yamcha? That coward? No, I don't think so. Especially considering that instead of helping you against Majin Buu, he ran away with the others.
Krillin opened his mouth to defend Yamcha. Closed it. Opened it again.
"Okay, bad example. But Tien—"
Tien is proud, not brave. Subtle difference, but important. He would fight to the death for honor. You fight to the death for others.
"… "
Want me to keep going?
Krillin sighed. "Fine, let's say I accept this madness. That I try." He looked up at the blue panel. "What exactly do you do? Besides reminding me that I'm weak and bald?"
Z fell silent for a moment. When the panel updated, the words came organized, almost didactic:
Primary Functions of System Z
Personal Status
Real-time visualization of your statistics. Name, age, power level.
Currently: 206.
Scanning
By focusing on any living being, I display name and exact power level.
Useful for knowing whether you should run or run faster.
Skill Panel
Lists your techniques with mastery levels:
Beginner ➔ Intermediate ➔ Advanced ➔ Master ➔ Grandmaster ➔ Divine
Currently: Kamehameha at Intermediate (82%). Zanzoken at Intermediate (55%).
Power Milestones
Upon reaching specific levels—1,000; 10,000; 50,000; 100,000, etc.—rewards unlock.
Zenkai. New techniques. Training bonuses. Surprises.
Encyclopedia Function
I know the entire chronology. All of it.
Arrival dates. Events. Weaknesses. Basically, I'm the guide you never had.
Krillin read each line. Then read them again.
"…Zenkai?"
The power boost Saiyans receive after recovering from a serious fight. You are not a Saiyan. But I can… adapt.
"Adapt?"
Simulate the effect. It will be weaker, but still a significant advantage for you.
Krillin fell silent.
Zenkai. He had seen Vegeta recover on Namek, returning two, three times stronger. Seen Goku come back from battle beyond his limits in ways Krillin couldn't even dream of.
And now someone was saying he could have that too.
"How much?"
How much?
"How much stronger can I get?" Krillin's voice came out lower. More serious. "If I do everything right. If I train like I've never trained before. If I use what you offer the right way…"
The holographic panel glowed.
You surprise me, Krillin. I expected more questions like 'will it hurt?'
Krillin didn't laugh.
…The answer is: I don't know.
You are human. Your limits are different from the Saiyans. But you are also Krillin—the same one who faced King Piccolo when he was young, the one who always gives his best regardless of circumstances. So my answer is: enough.
Krillin stayed silent for a long time.
The white void no longer seemed empty. The information floated before him like distant stars. 206. Raditz had 1,500. Vegeta had 18,000. Frieza had 530,000 in his first form—over 100 million at his final.
And he had 206.
But he also had something none of them would ever have.
ALERT: You are about to wake up.
Krillin raised his head.
Your soul has been reinserted into the body you had five months before Raditz.
The body is resting at Kame House.
Master Roshi is fishing on the pier. The turtle is sleeping in the sun. One more thing—don't tell anyone you came from the future or about me. That could attract the attention of beings we don't want to see right now.
You will wake up in 3… 2… 1…
"Awake, kid?"
Krillin opened his eyes.
The ceiling was wood. The smell of sea salt filled the air. Waves crashed softly outside. And there, with his cane and filthy Hawaiian shirt, stood Master Roshi, watching him with a relaxed expression.
"You were sleeping like a rock. Dream about some pretty young lady?"
Krillin blinked.
Five months. He had five months.
"—No, Master." His voice came out strange. Familiar and distant at the same time.
"I dreamed that… there was a blue panel talking to me."
Master Roshi snorted. "Stop being dramatic and come eat. I made fish."
The old man turned and shuffled away as he always did.
Krillin slowly sat up in bed.
He looked at his hands. Small. Calloused. The hands of someone who had spent his life fighting.
Krillin clenched his fists.
Then, for the first time since he had been turned into chocolate and devoured in front of his own family, he smiled.
Krillin sat at the kitchen table, watching Master Roshi place a plate of grilled fish in front of him. The smell was familiar. The texture of the wood under his fingers, the light streaming through the window, the sound of the waves—everything the same.
He picked up the chopsticks.
Five months.
"You're weird today, kid," Master Roshi commented, tearing a piece of fish with his fingers. "You woke up looking like you saw a ghost."
Krillin almost choked.
"Yeah… weird dream."
"Hmm."
The old master didn't ask more. Just ate in silence, as he did every day.
And Krillin was grateful for that.
"Master," he said after a long sip of tea. "I think I'm going to train hard today."
Master Roshi raised an eyebrow over his sunglasses.
"Harder than usual?"
Krillin simply nodded.
The old man studied his face for a moment. Then shrugged.
"Do what you want. Just don't destroy my island."
"I'll try."
Finishing the fish in silence, Krillin washed the dishes. Dried his hands on the worn cloth by the sink. Then walked to the beach.
The sun was high. The white sand burned under his bare feet. The turtle snored peacefully under the palm tree's shade, indifferent to the storm raging inside the bald man standing at the water's edge.
Krillin closed his eyes.
'Z.'
I'm here.
The voice came immediately. No longer a floating panel—now just sound, clear as crystal, settling in his mind as if it had always been there.
What do you want?
'…To test.' Krillin opened his eyes. 'I want to see if you're real.'
He focused on the horizon. On the seagull gliding above the waves.
The blue panel appeared before his eyes—translucent, almost ethereal. Data flowed like water:
Seagull
Power Level: 0.003
Note: Do not attempt to fight it. You will lose.
Krillin let out a short laugh.
"Shut up."
I didn't say anything.
"I was thinking out loud."
He turned. Focused on Kame House. On the old man sitting on the porch, reading a magazine.
Master Roshi
Power Level: 139
Note: Yes, that is the maximum power of one of the greatest martial artists in Earth's history. He simply doesn't care enough.
Krillin felt something tighten in his chest.
The man who trained him. Who taught him to fight. Who took him in when he was just an angry boy from the Orin Temple.
And even so—139.
The old man was weak. Always had been, compared to the monsters that would come. But Krillin had never truly understood the distance between them.
…Want to see your status?
Krillin hesitated.
'Yes.'
The panel changed.
STATUS
Name: Krillin
Age: 24 years
Power Level: 206
Note: I know what you're thinking. No, 206 is not 139. But it's also not 1,500.
'I know,' he replied. 'I don't need you to remind me.'
This time, Z didn't joke.
…You're stronger than you were five years ago.
Krillin blinked.
At the 22nd Tournament, you had 170. At the 23rd, 186. Now you have 206.
You always improve, Krillin. Just not as fast as the Saiyans.
Krillin fell silent.
He looked at his hands again.
'Can I see the skills?'
The panel reorganized.
Skills
Orin Style Martial Arts – Advanced <15%>
Kame Style Martial Arts – Advanced <35%>
Ki Manipulation – Intermediate <25%>
Kamehameha – Intermediate <82%>
Zanzoken – Intermediate <55%>
Double Tsuihikidan – Intermediate <60%>
Flight – Intermediate <30%>
Krillin stared at the list for a long time.
Intermediate. Almost everything at Intermediate. Years of training, fights to the death, and he was still stuck in the middle.
"And what does that percentage mean?"
Progress toward the next level. 82% in Kamehameha. When it reaches 100%, it advances to Advanced.
'82%…' Krillin bit his lip. 'So if I train—'
Yes. The bar rises. The more you use a technique, the better you get. The more you refine it, the closer you get to the next level.
'And if I create a new technique?'
You gain a new entry on the panel. At Beginner level. Then you climb.
Krillin fell silent. So that was it. Simple. Almost silly in its obviousness. He had always known training brought results. But he had never seen the result. Never had a number, a bar, tangible confirmation that every drop of sweat meant something.
Now he did.
Krillin clenched his fists.
"Then let's begin."
He started with the basics.
One hundred push-ups. One hundred sit-ups. One hundred squats. Running around the island until his breath nearly gave out. The sun climbed high, reached its peak, began to descend.
Krillin didn't stop.
After each set, each drop of sweat hitting the sand, he pulled up the panel.
Status:
Power Level: 206
Status:
Power Level: 206
Status:
Power Level: 206
"Why isn't it going up?!"
Patience, bald spot. You don't gain muscle after three push-ups.
"I know that! But—"
You're frustrated because you want results now. You want to reach 1,500 tomorrow. You want to be ready when Raditz steps out of that ship.
Krillin ground his teeth.
…That's not how it works. You know it's not how it works.
"I know." His voice came out hoarse. "I just—"
In your defense, you're also training in a very inefficient way. It would help if we had something like Vegeta's gravity chamber or the Hyperbolic Time Chamber.
"…We could ask Bulma for a gravity chamber. We'd need a good excuse, but I don't think she'd refuse."
Agreed, but it would still take at least two months for her to build it. We'd have to figure out how to maximize training in the meantime.
Krillin froze. "Wait… two months?"
At minimum. Bulma is a genius, not magic. She needs time to design, test materials, build—
"And if… if I ask for something simpler first?"
Like what?
Krillin stood, brushing sand from his knees. "Gravity. Not a whole chamber. Just a way to increase gravity while I train."
…Explain.
Krillin began pacing, gesturing.
"On the ship Goku used to go to Namek, they had those rooms. Increased gravity. It was like training while constantly carrying weight, but without having to stop and add more. If Bulma could make something—a belt, a bracelet, anything—that increased gravity only on me…"
He stopped, staring into nothing as the idea took shape.
Krillin froze mid-explanation, eyes widening.
"…Why do I feel like you're looking at me weird?"
Because you had a good idea. That's concerning.
"HEY!"
I'm joking, relax. But seriously, it's not a bad idea. Simple, practical, feasible. The problem is convincing Bulma to build something from scratch without giving too many explanations.
Krillin scratched his bald head thoughtfully. "She's always liked challenges. If I say I want to train for an important tournament and need something that increases localized gravity… Will she think it's strange?"
Maybe a little. But she'll also find it interesting. Bulma Briefs is a scientist. New challenges are her fuel.
"So it's possible?"
Possible, yes. Fast, no. Even a simple prototype will take weeks. But… Z paused deliberately. In the meantime, you can't just wait.
Krillin sighed. "I know. I just wanted—"
An easy shortcut. Everyone does. The difference is you'll keep training even without it.
The holographic panel flickered, and new information appeared:
Suggested Training – Pre-Gravity Period
Increase muscular load – improvised weighted vest
Cardiovascular endurance – swim against the current
Ki control – continuous flight practice, Kamehameha, and related activities
Speed – Zanzoken with reduced intervals
Krillin read the list carefully. Nothing there was new. He had done all of it hundreds of times.
"Seems… obvious."
The obvious works. What doesn't work is trying to reinvent everything without foundation. Build a house from the roof and it collapses.
Krillin chuckled softly. "You know, you're a lot more supportive than you seemed at first."
I am a support system. Literally. What did you expect?
The sun was already sinking on the horizon when Krillin finally stopped. His body ached in a good way—the familiar ache of well-worked muscles. He sat on the sand, watching the sea painted orange by the sunset.
"Z."
Yes?
"Thank you."
Pause.
For what?
Krillin took a while to answer. The waves broke softly, rhythmic, as if time itself were resting.
"For giving me a chance. For real." He ran a hand over his bald head, an old habit. "When I died… when Buu turned me into chocolate… I thought 'that's it.' I thought I'd failed for good. That 18 would be alone, that Marron and she would…" He swallowed hard.
"And then you showed up."
Z was silent for a long moment. When it spoke, the usual mocking tone was completely gone.
You didn't fail, Krillin. You faced a being who could destroy galaxies with a snap of his fingers. You faced him knowing you would die. That isn't failure. That is… Z hesitated. …the reason I chose you.
Krillin blinked. "Chose? You said you adopted me."
Adopted. Chose. Same thing. The point is: among all the souls available at that moment, among all the warriors who died fighting, I looked at you and thought 'this one deserves more.'
The wind blew softly, carrying the scent of the sea.
"And the others?" Krillin asked quietly. "Gohan? Goku? Vegeta? Didn't they deserve more?"
Maybe. But they've already had their chances. Several, in fact. You haven't.
Krillin didn't know how to respond.