The stark white void of the Spiritual Time Room pressed in around us, its silence a heavy shroud as Krillin and I squared off for our first training bout. We'd taken a moment to steel ourselves, shaking off the disorientation of tenfold gravity, before diving into the grind. I threw a light punch, testing him, and he countered with a quick jab; it was a rhythm we fell into fast, two warriors seeking strength in the endless expanse.
But as days stretched into weeks, the gap between us widened, a chasm I couldn't ignore. Krillin's human limits held him back, his strikes growing sluggish while my Saiyan blood pushed me further, faster. A month in, the sparring lost its edge; he couldn't keep up, and I needed more than a punching bag to sharpen my edge.
"We should split," I suggested one morning, wiping sweat from my brow as we paused near the small house. "Solo training's better for now; I need to push my base harder." Krillin nodded, catching his breath, and we parted ways, each carving out a corner of the void for our own battles.
Life settled into a brutal routine: train, eat, sleep, repeat, the hours blurring under the unchanging white sky. I stuck to my normal form, no transformations, just raw physical work, pounding the heavy air with fists and kicks to build my core. For a Saiyan, base strength was everything; every rep, every ache, was a brick in the foundation for Ultra Instinct Mega.
Time slipped by, relentless and unyielding, the days stacking into a year inside this warped space. Outside, it was a mere day, a blink for the world we'd left behind, but here, it was 365 grueling cycles of effort and exhaustion. The environment gnawed at me: the oppressive gravity, the thin air, the endless monotony; it was a forge designed to break or build you.
Krillin approached me one afternoon, his face drawn, shadows under his eyes. "Goten, I'm done here; this isn't cutting it for me anymore," he said, his voice heavy with resolve. "I need another way to get stronger; human blood's holding me back."
I tilted my head, curious despite the sweat stinging my eyes. "What other way?" I asked, leaning against the house's wall, its cool surface a brief relief. He shrugged, frustration etching his features, and I saw the weight he carried, a guilt older than my years here.
"I don't know yet," he admitted, staring at the horizonless white. "But staying won't push me far enough to face Cell; I've got to find something else." His tone darkened, self-blame creeping in as he added, "If I'd stopped Eighteen back then, Goku and the others might still be here."
I stepped closer, resting a hand on his shoulder, feeling the tension coiled there. "Don't carry that alone; they wouldn't blame you, and neither do I," I said, my voice steady. He managed a faint smile, a flicker of gratitude, and I knew he needed this release as much as I needed to train.
"Keep at it, Goten," he said, clapping my arm with a firm nod. "You've got talent, more than Goku or Gohan; you'll take Cell down, I'm sure of it." His faith bolstered me, a torch passed in the dimness of our shared struggle.
We exchanged a few more words, a quiet farewell, and then Krillin turned, trudging back to the door, his silhouette shrinking against the vast white. He stepped out, leaving me alone in the Time Room, the silence crashing in like a wave. I watched the door seal shut, a pang of loneliness tugging at me, but I shoved it down; strength demanded solitude.
Days bled into weeks, then months, the isolation sharpening as half a year ticked by since Krillin's departure. I grew taller, my frame hardening, muscles carving out a leaner, tougher shape under the relentless grind. My reflection in the house's small mirror showed a boy edging toward Gohan's old fierceness, a Saiyan sculpted by time and will.
Training became my world, a cycle of punishing drills: push-ups under crushing gravity, sprints that tore at my lungs, shadowboxing against phantoms of Cell. The tattered remnants of my gi hung off me, shredded by effort, and I paused one evening, chest heaving, to catch my breath. I exhaled long and slow, the air thick in my throat, and shuffled to the food stores, hands trembling from fatigue.
Cooking was my burden now, a task I tackled with Saiyan efficiency: rice, meat, whatever kept me fueled. I shoveled it down, the flavors dull but vital, and felt strength seep back into my limbs, a Saiyan's recovery kicking in. Sitting there, cross-legged on the floor, I stared at my calloused hands, feeling the shift within me, the raw power I'd built.
"A year and a half," I muttered, standing to stretch, my joints popping in the quiet. "My body's solid now; time to test Ultra Instinct Mega." The thought sent a thrill through me, a spark of anticipation cutting through the monotony.
I walked to the center of the Time Room, the vast white stretching endless around me, and set my senzu beans a safe distance away. "Can't risk crushing these," I said to myself, patting the small pouch; they were my lifeline if this went wrong. I squared my shoulders, ready to push the edge I'd been chasing since the system woke up.
Closing my eyes, I steadied my breathing, each inhale drawing the heavy air deep into my lungs. Silver threads shimmered at the edges of my senses, faint at first, then thickening, weaving around me like a storm gathering force. I focused, letting the energy rise, a tide I'd held back too long.
My eyes snapped open, silver-gray replacing black, a crescent of light flashing through them as Ultra Instinct Mega ignited. A silver halo flared around me, my hair lifting without wind, and I felt ethereal, untethered, a figure carved from starlight. The temperature spiked, the air crackling with heat, the Time Room itself bending under the shift.
"This is it," I whispered, awe threading my voice as I flexed my hands, silver energy rippling outward. My body fused with the space, every movement instinctual, a harmony I'd never known; power surged within me, vast and wild, a sea threatening to overflow its shores. It filled me, pressed against my limits, a force so immense it could shatter me if I faltered.
Ten seconds ticked by, each one an eternity, the strain clawing at my frame. Pain flared, sharp and searing, my limbs screaming as the power overtaxed my still-growing body. I gasped, cutting the state short, the silver fading as I dropped to my knees, agony ripping through me like a blade.
I crawled to the senzu pouch, fumbling with shaking hands to grab a bean and shove it into my mouth. The crunch brought relief, the pain melting away as my strength returned, leaving me panting but whole. I sat back, staring at the white ceiling, a grin tugging at my lips despite the ordeal; I'd touched the divine, and I'd survived.
***
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