Mount Paoz, Son Goku's House
It was a calm afternoon. The sky was clear, and the distant chirping of forest birds carried through the gentle breeze. The world kept turning as if nothing had changed—but inside that humble wooden house, time itself seemed to have stopped.
Goku held baby Gohan softly in his arms. The infant, only a few months old, dozed peacefully, unaware of the sorrow filling the air. The Saiyan with a pure heart—the warrior who had faced monsters and even conquered death—couldn't find the strength to smile.
He sat by the bedside, his face shadowed by a grief so rare for him. The spark that usually filled his eyes with curiosity and joy was gone, replaced by silent despair.
Chi-Chi breathed with effort. Her once-strong, determined face was now pale, marked by the toll of an illness no Dragon Ball could cure.
Goku bit his lip, wishing—just this once—that brute strength could fix something.
"Why… why now, Dragon Balls?" he muttered bitterly. "You can bring someone back to life, but you can't heal this?"
Chi-Chi slowly opened her eyes and raised a trembling hand.
"Goku…" Her voice was a whisper.
He moved closer to the bed, still holding Gohan. The baby stirred, opening his small black eyes to look curiously at his mother.
"I'm here, Chi-Chi…" Goku knelt down beside her. "How are you feeling?"
Chi-Chi smiled faintly.
"Worse than yesterday… but I'm happy. You're both here. You… and our son."
Her trembling hand reached toward Gohan. Goku lowered the baby gently so she could touch his cheek.
"Look at him, Goku," she said softly. "He's so bright… I can tell. He has your spirit—but I want him to have something more."
"Something more…?"
Chi-Chi took a shallow breath.
"Promise me… you'll help him become a great scholar. Don't force him to fight. Let him live a different life from yours."
Goku looked down.
"I just… want him to be happy. That's all that matters."
"Then… let him choose. Protect him, but don't hold him back. Let him discover the world in his own way."
A silence fell, broken only by the wind brushing against the house.
"Chi-Chi…" Goku's voice trembled. "I don't know if I can raise him alone."
She met his gaze—gentle, yet strong even now.
"You're Son Goku. You've faced armies, demons… even King Piccolo himself. Do you really think you can't care for your son?"
Goku's lips curled into a sad smile.
"Not without you yelling at me… telling me to wash the dishes."
Chi-Chi let out a weak laugh.
"You'll always be so stubborn…"
The baby made a small sound, a sleepy murmur. Chi-Chi looked at him one last time.
"Goodbye… my Gohan."
Then she turned her gaze back to Goku.
"And you… Goku… be happy. Promise me."
He closed his eyes tightly.
"I promise."
Chi-Chi exhaled softly. And then, she didn't breathe again.
⸻
The sun dipped behind the mountains. The cabin was silent.
Goku sat alone, Gohan asleep on his chest, staring at the open door. The wind stirred the grass outside. Life moved on.
But something within him had changed forever.
⸻
Four years later – Mount Paoz
Morning sunlight filtered through the trees, casting dancing shadows on the damp forest floor. A light breeze drifted through Goku's small house, carrying laughter with it—bright, joyful laughter that filled every corner.
"Hahaha! Dad, stop! That tickles!" Gohan squealed, squirming as his father's hands moved like lightning.
Goku's trademark messy hair gleamed in the sunlight, his grin youthful as ever.
"What's this? The mighty Gohan gives up already? I thought you were braver than that!"
"I'm not giving up! Stop, Dad, I can't—haha!" Gohan kicked playfully in protest.
Finally, Goku relented. Gohan flopped onto the tatami mat, panting between giggles. Goku sat beside him and reached for the small red cap on the nearby table—the one with the four-star Dragon Ball set into the front.
"Here you go, champ," he said softly, placing it carefully on Gohan's head. "This used to be Grandpa Gohan's. He gave it to me when I was your age… now it's your turn."
Gohan looked up, eyes wide. Then he smiled, touching the cap with both hands.
"Grandpa Gohan?"
"Yeah," Goku nodded. His voice grew quieter. "He was wise… and strong. He would've loved you."
The silence was brief. Goku stood and stretched.
"All right! Time to go visit Master Roshi and everyone else! Let's fly!"
Gohan's face lit up.
"I'll finally meet your friends, Dad?"
"Exactly!" Goku picked up a small backpack already packed with snacks, a science book for Gohan, and a change of clothes.
"Some of them haven't seen you since you were a baby. They're gonna be surprised!"
He lifted Gohan effortlessly onto his shoulders. Yet, as he fastened the straps on his back, old memories returned.
⸻
Cooking without burning the house down.
Learning to change diapers.
Reading bedtime stories, even when the words made no sense to him.
Patching up scrapes, soothing tears, teaching his son how to float for the first time…
He had trained to become the strongest, to defend Earth, to defeat impossible foes. But nothing had prepared him for this.
Still, somehow—
"I've learned more than I ever imagined," he murmured, adjusting Gohan's pack. "When he was born, I thought Chi-Chi would handle all the education. I just wanted to play with him… teach him how to fish."
He glanced at the blue sky.
"But your mom… she left me all this. Who I am now—it's because of her."
"Dad? What did you say?" Gohan asked from above.
Goku smiled.
"Nothing, son. Just thinking how fun it is to be a dad."
Gohan grinned wide.
"And you're the best dad ever! You taught me how to fish and read and—"
"And I'll teach you even more if you don't fall off!" Goku laughed, leaping into the sky as the wind rushed around them.
Gohan clapped with delight as they soared above the treetops. The little house grew smaller and smaller below, but what they carried wasn't material. It was love—built from struggle, laughter, and memories that neither time nor death could erase.
⸻
And so, flying toward Kame House, father and son had no idea that they were about to reunite with old friends… and face a destiny that would change their world forever.
⸻
Meanwhile…
The Eastern Continent. The Kusha Mountain Range.
A desolate land carved by wind and time—where silence was broken only by the roar of energy blasts tearing through stone.
A green ki orb slammed into a cliffside, pulverizing rock into dust. At the mountaintop, Piccolo stood panting lightly, arm extended, cape whipping in the wind. His white turban lay discarded nearby, forgotten in his focus.
"Tch… not again," he growled, glaring at the smoking crater. Sweat rolled down his temple.
Goku.
That name echoed in his mind over and over.
Ever since his battle with King Piccolo—and later, his defeat at the hands of the reborn Piccolo Jr. during the tournament—he had felt the sting of humiliation. He had trained without rest, for one purpose only: to surpass him.
To defeat the one man who had made him tremble.
Not out of hatred… but pride.
"Damn cheerful insect… no matter how hard I train, he's always one step ahead." Piccolo clenched his fists. "But this time… this time will be different."
Then, the wind froze.
The sky darkened. Birds fled the forests in panic.
Piccolo felt it instantly—like an invisible claw squeezing his chest. He turned sharply northward.
A ki.
No… a monster.
"What… is this?" he muttered, eyes widening. His entire body tensed—pure instinct. The pressure was immense, wild, brutal. A ki unlike anything he'd ever felt. It was as if hell itself had spat something onto Earth.
An explosion thundered in the distance. The shockwave ripped across the mountains, forcing Piccolo to shield himself as rocks and dust flew past.
And then he saw it.
A figure descending through the haze—armor black and green, a scouter over one eye, long wild hair flowing behind him, and a smirk that chilled the blood.
A tail coiled around his waist.
The stranger landed lightly before him, arms crossed.
"Hmm… interesting," the warrior said, his voice dripping with disdain. "Didn't expect to find a Namekian on this planet. But I still need to locate Kakarot."
Piccolo narrowed his eyes, taking a cautious step back.
"Kakarot? Who the hell is that?"
The stranger chuckled, deep and mocking. He tapped the device on his eye—it beeped rapidly, scanning Piccolo.
"Hmph. Not bad… power level 322."
He paused, smirking.
"Not bad… for an insect."
A vein pulsed on Piccolo's forehead.
"What did you just say!?"
The warrior didn't flinch. His ki flared briefly—just enough to make the air tremble. Piccolo could barely breathe.
He was stronger than Goku. Much stronger.
But Piccolo's pride refused to back down.
He raised his arms into a fighting stance.
"I don't know who you are, but if you think you can insult me and walk away, you're dead wrong."
The warrior sighed theatrically.
"Tsk. Impulsive—like most lower beings." He pressed a finger to his scouter.
"My name is Raditz. And I'm here to find my younger brother… Kakarot."
Piccolo blinked.
"Your brother…?"
Raditz looked smug.
"Yes. Kakarot—he was sent to this planet long ago. Judging by the state of this world, it seems he forgot his mission."
Piccolo gritted his teeth.
"You're talking about Goku… Son Goku?"
Raditz smiled.
"So that's what he calls himself now? Pathetic. Humans really are a weak species. He was sent to exterminate them, not befriend them."
The silence between them froze solid.
Piccolo's mind raced—confused, yet alert.
Goku… sent to conquer Earth? This man… his brother?
And more importantly—
"Why now? Why come here after all this time?"
Raditz turned toward the horizon.
"Because it's time for Kakarot to remember his duty. And if he refuses…" His smirk deepened.
"I'll remind him who he truly is—and what race he belongs to."
⸻
Piccolo swallowed hard. Whatever was coming… it was far beyond anything he'd ever known.
And for the first time in years, he realized training alone wouldn't be enough.
⸻
Moments later
The sky was clear, calm, deceptively peaceful—but Raditz tore through it like a black comet. His long hair streamed behind him, scouter beeping constantly as it tracked power levels across the planet.
"Tsk…" he muttered. "That Namekian actually thought he could intimidate me. Ridiculous."
The scouter chirped again—new reading. Raditz slowed, hovering in midair, arms crossed as the number flashed on the display.
653.
"Well, well…" he grinned. "So this is the highest power on the planet. No doubt… that's him. Kakarot."
He cracked his neck.
"Hmph. Not bad. Still an insect compared to me."
But then, the scouter's tone changed—not a reading this time… a call.
Raditz frowned.
"Now what…?"
And then he heard her voice. Calm. Commanding. Sharp enough to cut stone.
"Raditz. I assume you've arrived on the planet where your brother was sent. Have you found him yet?"
Raditz stiffened.
"Princess Vegetta…" he said, lowering his tone instantly. "Yes, I've just landed. I'm tracking his energy—it's higher than we expected."
Silence. The kind that made his stomach knot. He could feel her glare through the transmission.
Then, her voice again—colder.
"Higher? How much?"
"Six-fifty-three," he answered quickly. "Impressive for a third-rate planet—but still below Saiyan standards."
A soft click echoed—she was analyzing the data remotely.
"I see," Vegetta murmured, that familiar edge of disdain in her tone. "Looks like your idiot brother got too comfortable living among insects."
Raditz said nothing. Even Nappa knew better than to interrupt her.
"Remember why you're there, Raditz," she continued. "Try to recruit Kakarot. If he regains his Saiyan nature, he could be useful. If not…"
Raditz nodded.
"I know, I know. I'll handle it. Just give me a little time. This planet's full of strange creatures. I even ran into a Namekian—"
"A Namekian?" Vegetta's voice sharpened.
"On that planet?"
Raditz hesitated.
"Yeah. Strong enough to notice. I ignored him for now—no real threat."
Another long silence. When she spoke again, her tone was pure ice.
"Be careful, Raditz. That planet might seem harmless, but if Kakarot catches you off guard, it'll be your mistake. And remember—if your signal drops suddenly… I'll come collect your bones myself."
Raditz shivered.
That was Vegetta—Princess of the Saiyans. Cold, proud, merciless.
He and Nappa had fought beside her for years, and yet… sometimes they feared her more than any enemy.
With good reason.
"Heh… don't worry. If my brother's as soft as he seems, this'll be easy. You won't need to bother coming here, my lady." He used the title that always soothed her temper.
Silence. Then a single word.
"Better be."
Transmission ended.
Raditz exhaled deeply, wiping his brow.
"Damn… how can one woman make my knees shake like that?"
Then, with a fierce grin, he turned toward the south.
"All right, Kakarot. Let's see how strong you've gotten… and whether you're worthy of the Saiyan name."
With a thunderous roar of ki, he shot through the sky—straight toward Kame House.