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3 YEARS LATER
(Point of View – Ethan)
The sun was blazing overhead, scorching the asphalt of the Capsule Corporation's parking lot. Bardock Jr., now about 8 years old, was leaping through the air trying to imitate my Instant Transmission, while Lingie and Noudel, in floral bikinis, filled the pool with bubbles using some of Bulma's inventions. Mirai, more serious than ever, stayed in the shade reading a book — How to Tame Your Ki in 10 Steps. Even the kids had grown. Gina, in jean shorts and a tank top, tossed me a beer:
"Feeling nervous about the tournament, Mister Champion?" She let out that warm laugh that still made me melt inside.
"I'm just in a hurry to get it over with," I lied, popping the tab on the can. Clink! The sound echoed like an alarm bell in my head. Three years since that day at the warehouse. Three years of hard training, sleepless nights watching the Dragon Radar, of dreaming about golden eyes staring at me in the dark.
That's when the old garage radio spat out static: "LAST CALL FOR ENTRIES IN THE 35TH WORLD MARTIAL ARTS TOURNAMENT! ALL PARTICIPANTS MUST—"
"Dad, look!" Bardock Jr. pointed at the sky.
ZOOOM! A silver spaceship streaked across the blue, leaving a trail of purple smoke. No need for a scouter to know who was inside — the heavy ki, sour like a spoiled lemon, was enough to give even the garden rocks the chills.
"Everyone inside. Now," I shouted, dropping the beer. Splash! The foam formed a puddle that reflected the green figure descending from the ship.
Piccolo Jr. landed softly, without a speck of dust. The guy looked different — a long black cape, shoulder plates with glowing runes, and a smile that didn't reach his eyes. His aura warped the air around him, like summer heat shimmering off asphalt.
"Ethan." His voice was a low thunder, clinging to my skin. "Remember my promise?"
Gina appeared on the porch with Noudel in her arms. "Who's the edgy Smurf?" she shouted, making her daughter giggle.
Tssss — his ki flared up suddenly, making the leaves on the trees wither in the blink of an eye. "Three years training in 300 dimensions. All for today."
I stepped forward, already feeling the Super Saiyan Blue itching to come out. "You're late, Junior. The tournament only starts tomorrow."
He laughed, showing sharp teeth. "I'm not here for the tournament. I'm here for you."
CRACK! A green lightning bolt burst between us, opening a crater. Fu appeared beside him, sporting new glasses and a dirty lab coat. "Uh, technically, he's here for the participation points. Rules are rules, right?"
Before I could answer, BRRRMMM! — a hovering motorcycle screeched to a stop. Kuririn, with his head shinier than ever and wearing a Police uniform, jumped off:
"Looks like we've got a 157 in progress, huh? Disturbing the peace and all that blah blah blah."
Piccolo Jr. didn't even look at him. "Tomorrow, Ethan. When I crush you in front of your world..." He raised his hand, and a portal opened with the sound of shattering glass. "...they'll remember that demons also know how to keep promises."
VWOOP! They vanished somewhere before I could fire off a Kamehameha. I just stood there, listening to the garage radio still crackling with announcements.
Gina came up behind me, her warm hand on my shoulder. "He's more like Piccolo Senior now, huh?"
"He smells like trouble," Kuririn grumbled, adjusting his badge. "That Fu guy must've spliced some of Freeza's DNA in him, going by the stench."
Night fell with the promise of a storm. In the living room, while the kids slept, I watched past footage of Piccolo's fights — each blow faster, each strategy dirtier. Even Bulma was impressed:
"The scanner shows the guy's power level is the same as Piccolo's base was that time, remember? That 'Showtime, pu' thing?"
"It's 'Showtime, dammit,'" I corrected, shifting Lingie's cast-covered foot on the couch.
Chi-Chi came in carrying a tray of pastries: "Somebody's gotta stop that green guy before he starts a new fad at the gyms."
I laughed, but my throat was dry. On the terrace, I looked at the lit-up stadium in the distance. Tomorrow, everything would end or begin again. The wind carried the smell of ozone, and for a second, I could've sworn I heard children's laughter — or demons' — coming from the clouds.
night crickets → distant thunder
THE NEXT DAY
The stadium was on fire with excitement. Floating cameras buzzed around like bees (BZZZT!), capturing every detail: Towa scolding Mirai for wearing a pink battle dress, Panchy handing out dinosaur sandwiches, and Master Roshi over there with sunglasses and cane...
"I GIVE YOU... THE RETURN OF THE LEGENDARY ETHAN SON!!!"
The crowd roared so loud it made the ground shake (ROOOAR!). I climbed into the ring, spotting Bardock Jr. waving a little sign that said "GO DAD!" Kuririn gave me a thumbs-up from behind the hot dog stand.
"AND NOW, BRINGING ANCIENT TECHNIQUES FROM THE TSURU MOUNTAINS... TEEEENSHINHAN!"
SWOOSH! A flash, and there he was. Tenshinhan looked like he'd aged twenty years in three — his head even shinier, the third eye crossed by a scar, and muscles like sequoia trunks under a moss-green gi.
"Long time, kid." His voice grated like stone in a grinder. He was different from the old man I knew — his aura pulsed with purple hues, almost as if…
"You too, Ten?" I frowned, a bitter taste of betrayal in my mouth.
"FIGHT!"
CRACK! I didn't even see him move. Suddenly my jaw was burning, and I was flying backward like a rag doll. BAM! I slammed against the edge of the ring, cracking the concrete.
"AAAAAEEE!" The audience went wild. From the corner of my eye, I saw Fu smirking, taking notes on a tablet.
"Focus!" Ten appeared above me, his foot coming down like a missile.
WHOOOSH! I dodged by a hair, rolling to the side. The spot I'd been in blew to dust.
"What did they do to you, Ten?" I jumped back, feeling my ki spike along my spine.
"Evolution, kid." His three eyes glowed with that same sickly light I'd seen in Piccolo. "Something you'll never understand!"
TATATATATA! A barrage of punches and kicks came at lightspeed. I blocked most of them, but a few connected — THUD! WHACK! — against my ribs, my shoulder. It hurt like hell.
"KIKOHO!"
A cannon of yellow energy erupted from his hands. I leapt into the air, but the blast curved — ZIIING! — chasing me like a rabid dog.
"Damn it!" I spun in midair, but the explosion caught me in the back. KABOOOOM!
I crashed to my knees, my gi scorched and my skin stinging. Ten's laughter was like sandpaper in my ears:
"Fu showed me things Old Master Tsuru never dreamed of. Every universe has its secrets…"
"And every fighter has their tricks." I spat a thin line of blood. Time to stop playing around.
Ten formed triangles with his hands. "Multi-Form!" POOF! POOF! POOF! Four identical Tenshinhans surrounded me, each one radiating a toxic ki.
"Impressive." I closed my eyes. "But I can smell fear on you."
"ATTACK!" All four attacked at once.
FWOOOSH! I let my ki explode, blue overtaking everything. Super Saiyan Blue in seconds.
"WHAT IS THAT?!" the announcer screamed so loud the microphone squealed. "ETHAN IS... GLOWING?!"
The four Tenshinhans froze in midair, eyes wide as if they'd seen a ghost.
"Neo Tri-Beam!" they shouted in unison, forming a giant X of energy.
BOOM! The shockwave ripped through the stadium, blowing part of the roof away. A cloud of dust swallowed everything.
"IT'S OVER!" Ten yelled.
"It hasn't even started."
The dust settled. I was still there, standing, holding his energy off with one hand. All four Tenshinhans stared, eyes bulging like plates.
"H-How... is that possible?" Ten stammered.
I smiled, but it wasn't a happy smile. "I'm glad you evolved, Ten. But while you were off exploring universes…"
VWIP! Instant Transmission. I appeared in the middle of the four clones.
"…I was here protecting mine."
FWAAASSHH!
A perfect circle of blue energy expanded from me. The four Tenshinhans cried out — more in surprise than pain — as they were blasted out of the ring like leaves in a storm.
CRASH! CRASH! CRASH! CRASH!
Four craters in the wall, one original Ten unconscious in the largest one.
Silence took over. Then…
"IN-CRE-DI-BLE! IN A SPECTACULAR TURNAROUND, ETHAN DEFEATS THE LEGENDARY TENSHINHAN!"
The crowd went wild. WOOOOO! Hands and voices raised in waves. I saw Bardock Jr. jumping around like popcorn in a microwave, Gina whistling with her fingers in her mouth, and even the serious Mirai had a tiny smile at the corner of her lips.
But from the VIP box, I felt those golden eyes studying me. Piccolo Jr. wasn't clapping, wasn't smiling. Just watching, like a predator biding its time.
A medic came running to help Ten. I approached, holding out my hand.
"You alright?"
Tenshinhan opened his eyes slowly, the purple glow already gone. "Ethan... watch out for him. What Fu offers... it costs too much."
Before I could ask more, they carried him off to the infirmary. On the giant screen, the next match was already showing:
"Ma Junior VS KURIRIN!"
My stomach tightened. Piccolo stepped into the ring like a shadow — silent, inevitable. Kuririn pulled on his gloves, way too confident for my liking.
"Good luck, baldy!" I shouted, but my voice was drowned out by the booming drums announcing the next fight.
I left the ring, feeling the weight of a thousand eyes on me. Three years later, and it still felt like everything was just beginning.
TOOOM! TOOOM! — The drums of the next match thundered like an omen.
MEANWHILE, BACKSTAGE…