With only seven years remaining until the great clash of the Hakaishin Candidates, Universe 4 wasn't the only one making moves. Across the multiverse, the other Gods of Destruction were frantically preparing.
In Universe 9:
"How can you all be so stupid?! Three years and not one of you has grasped the essence of Destruction!" Sidra bellowed.
"We are deeply sorry, Lord Sidra!"
"Useless, the lot of you. Mojito, is the Time Room finished?"
"It is ready, Lord Sidra," the Angel replied smoothly.
"Hmph. I'm giving you over two thousand more years in there. If you don't show a breakthrough this time, you'd better pray for a quick end!"
In Universe 10:
"Kusu, is the Time Room set up?" Rumsshi asked.
"Lord Rumsshi, is cheating like this really a good idea?"
"How is this cheating? Everyone is doing it. If everyone uses the same trick, it's just a standard procedure, isn't it?"
"Strictly speaking... I suppose you have a point."
"Then is it ready or not?"
"It is. You can lead them in whenever you like."
In Universe 11:
"Hahaha! As expected of Jiren! It took Toppo a year and a half to grasp Destruction, but you did it in six months. That talent of yours is enough to make even that rat Quitela jealous!" Belmod laughed heartily.
"You flatter me, Lord Belmod," Jiren replied stoically.
"Not at all. Your raw power has already eclipsed mine. If you can master the various divine techniques of a Destroyer, you will be the perfect candidate. It's just a shame..."
"A shame?"
"A shame that ten years is too short. Your lifespan has maybe five hundred years left; I simply don't have the time to take you through the Tower of Dimensions."
"What is the Tower of Dimensions?"
"To put it simply, it's a place where you can extend your life. But no matter—having five hundred years to train is already a massive advantage! Marcarita, is everything prepared?"
"It is ready, Lord Belmod," she answered with a graceful bow.
"Then follow me."
In Universe 6:
"You Saiyans really are something else, being able to transform just like Gran," Champa remarked.
"Lord Champa, who is Gran?" Cabba asked curiously.
"Gran is the guy you'll be cooperating with eventually—and the one you'll have to face in the end. He's terrifying. Even Hit wouldn't stand a chance against him."
Hit narrowed his eyes. "I wouldn't be able to defeat him? Even if I used my contract-killing techniques, Lord Champa?"
"Even then. And honestly, if you try to assassinate him, you'd better be prepared for him to kill you right back."
"..."
"Anyway, Hit, you're supposed to be our ace. Why haven't you grasped Destruction in three years?"
"My apologies, Lord Champa. My talents lie in the art of the kill. Destruction is... a different philosophy. I am finding it difficult to reconcile the two."
"Grrr! Fine. I'm giving you another two thousand years. Can you get it done by then?"
"That should be more than enough time."
"Good. Vados, is the room ready?"
"It is."
"Excellent. Everyone inside! Hit, your lifespan is long enough to stay for the full duration. You Saiyans, however, can only handle fifty years at most. If you stay a second longer than that, get your tails out of there immediately!"
"Yes, sir!"
Ten years was a vanishingly small window. Aside from Universe 11, which already had a prime candidate, almost no other universe's trainees had managed to master the power of Destruction.
It made sense; Zen-Oh's meeting had been incredibly sudden, leaving the Destroyers no time to find candidates with high divine aptitude. Instead, they had simply grabbed the strongest mortals they could find.
To bridge the gap, every universe had quietly agreed to use temporal dimensions similar to the Hyperbolic Time Chamber.
By warping time, seven years could be stretched into two millennia. However, not everyone could take advantage of that time.
Most candidates were still mortals. While beings like Hit had immense longevity, others, like the Saiyans, were lucky to live past two hundred.
As for taking these candidates into the Tower of Dimensions to help them ascend to godhood? None of the Destroyers even considered it.
The Tower was fixed in place and could only be accessed in real time, meaning they had only 10 years to work with.
Even if they had two thousand years, the jump from mortal to divine was staggering. After all, it had taken Beerus himself a hundred thousand years to make that transition.
In Universe 7, at Capsule Corp in West City:
Since returning from the Galactic Patrol headquarters a year ago, Gran had spent every day in deep meditation. Now, a year later, he was ready to ascend to the Heavenly Realm.
"Lord Beerus, Whis—I'm heading up," Gran said, setting down his chopsticks and pointing toward the ceiling. Everyone stood up, knowing he didn't mean the roof, but the Lookout high above.
"We agreed to leave these three years to your own discretion, so we won't pry. Go when you are ready," Beerus said, stepping forward to pat Gran on the shoulder.
"Lord Gran, you have to train hard! Make sure you knock all those other candidates flat!" Bulma cheered, shaking her fist.
"Good luck, Big Brother Gran," little Broly added with a shy, earnest smile.
Gran nodded to them all and turned to Whis. "Whis, I'll need another heavy gravity suit, please."
Whis frowned slightly. "Are you really going to push yourself that hard? The environment inside that chamber isn't as refined as the Hyperbolic World on our planet, but it's still incredibly harsh. Adding a suit on top of that..."
"You said it yourself—it's not as refined as our world. That's exactly why I need the suit to compensate," Gran countered.
Whis remained silent for a moment, glancing at Beerus for his take. The Destroyer sighed and gave a reluctant nod. Whis waved his staff, and a thick, heavy gravity suit materialized over Gran's clothes.
"I'll be fine," Gran said, flashing a confident grin. He wasn't stupid; if it became unbearable, he'd just come out early. "I'm off."
"Gran!" Beerus called out as he turned to leave. Gran stopped and looked back. "Remember what I said. Life isn't just about training. Rest when you need to."
"I will." Gran felt a genuine warmth in his chest.
"We've been on Earth long enough," Beerus added.
"Whis and I are heading back. When you finish your training, come find us at the Supreme Kai's world. We'll help you unlock your latent potential there. By the time we're done, the tournament should be right around the corner."
"Any other advice?"
Beerus's lip twitched. "Just get going already. We'll look after the brat for you."
"Thank you, Lord Beerus. Thank you, Master Whis!"
Gran gave them both a quick, impulsive hug before taking flight. The gesture left Beerus frozen in place.
"Lord Beerus, is something wrong?" Whis asked, hiding a snicker behind his hand.
"Since when did that kid get so sentimental?" Beerus muttered, rubbing his arms.
"Oh? I thought it was rather sweet," Whis chuckled.
After a moment, Beerus picked up little Broly as if he were a stray kitten. He turned to Bulma.
"Keep the business running. Don't go bankrupt while we're gone. If I come back and there's no gourmet food because you're broke, I'll have your head!"
"Whis, let's move!"
The three of them vanished in a streak of rainbow light. Bulma stood alone in the dining room for a moment before bursting into a laugh.
Bankruptcy? Even if the world ended, the Briefs family would be fine. These gods were surprisingly endearing.
At the Lookout, Gran landed and found Mr. Popo waiting for him.
"Mr. Popo, long time no see," Gran greeted.
"Greetings, Lord Gran," Popo replied with a deep bow.
"Huh?" Gran looked at him curiously. "You're much more formal this time. What changed?"
Popo didn't answer, maintaining his usual inscrutable expression. Gran shrugged; trying to get a straight answer out of Popo was a lost cause.
"Lord Gran, have you come to use the Hyperbolic Time Chamber?"
"Exactly. Whis says my martial arts are already at the Hakaishin Candidate level. The only thing left to improve is my raw power."
Gran took a quick stroll around the Lookout. The air was thin, the atmosphere peaceful—perfect for a martial artist to find focus.
"Do you think Whis is right?" Gran asked, teasing the attendant. "If he's wrong, maybe you could give me some pointers instead?"
"..." Popo remained expressionless. "Master Whis is correct. Your martial arts have reached a state of near-perfection. As for my guidance, you have an Angel as a teacher; you have no need for me."
Gran stopped joking. "So... may I use the room?"
"Of course. Please follow me."
They walked deep into the palace, down the winding stairs to the long corridor of mystical rooms. Gran didn't linger; he knew these rooms were Popo's creations.
"Lord Gran, there are a few rules regarding the chamber that you should be aware of..." Popo began his usual briefing. Even though Gran knew the rules, he listened respectfully.
"Normally, a person can only spend two years in there in their lifetime. You are different; you could stay until the end of your natural life if you wished," Popo said as they reached the iconic double doors.
"With your strength, whenever you wish to leave, you can simply tear through the dimensional fabric."
"Understood," Gran nodded.
"Then please, step inside." Popo pulled the doors open.
A wave of blistering heat and a strange, heavy pressure rolled out. Gran felt a familiar ripple in the air—it felt like the temporal energy Whis often used. He didn't ask about it. If Whis hadn't taught him time-manipulation yet, it meant he wasn't ready.
"See you in a year, Mr. Popo." Gran stepped into the white void and closed the doors behind him.
One year? Popo's brow furrowed slightly before smoothing out. Training wasn't about how long you stayed, but how you used the time. If one hit a plateau and kept grinding mindlessly, a thousand years wouldn't help. Balance and timing—that was the heart of martial arts.
"He knows what he's doing," Popo murmured, a small smile playing on his lips. With Gran's divine tier, he could have stayed for millions of years, yet he chose only a few hundred.
"Until next year, then." Popo turned and walked away from the heavy doors.
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