Fusion of Two Forces

Goten didn't notice his hair—all his attention was focused inside the mountain.

The new power from the fusion poured into the crack—the crack expanded at a speed visible to the naked eye—from the thickness of a needle tip to that of a little finger.

Golden light surged from the mountain again—this time it didn't dim—it grew brighter and stronger—so bright that even the runes on the stone walls began to twist and deform.

A thunderous roar echoed from the sky.

It wasn't the thunder of nature—it was the resonance produced when the seal was touched.

Above the Five Finger Mountain—dark clouds began to gather—not storm clouds—but golden clouds—as if something had opened its eyes above the clouds.

A bolt of lightning struck the ground in front of Goten—not to stop him—but to leave a line of text on the ground before him.

The writing hung in the air for three breaths—each character glowing.

The line of text read—"You're finally here."

Goten stopped channeling Origin Energy.

He didn't speak—he stared at the line of text—the residual power deep within the mountain fluctuated again—this time more intensely than before.

It was like someone had plucked a string that had been taut for five hundred years—aftershocks rippled out wave after wave.

The line of text in the golden light dissipated—replaced by a low tremor emanating from the mountain.

It wasn't laughter—it was the Golden Cudgel vibrating—its body resonating with the mountain—the frequency of the vibration—like laughter.

The crack in the mountain wall, the width of a little finger—silently—widened by another fraction.

The aura of the Golden Cudgel surged from the depths of the mountain—washing over Goten's entire body like a tide—warm and heavy.

Goten felt his hand burning—not from Origin Energy combustion—but from something extending from the depths of the mountain—passing through the crack—and brushing his fingertips.

It brushed—and then retracted.

Like a giant beast slumbering at the bottom of the water—turning over in its dream—unconsciously touching the surface of the water.

It wasn't a conscious touch—it was the residual instinct within the shell—sensing if the power outside was worth responding to.

Goten stood there—looking down at his fingertips—where a trace of golden light still lingered.

He wanted to speak—but found his throat choked.

That night, the Five Finger Mountain was exceptionally quiet.

Goten sat by the campfire—he hadn't tried to break the seal since yesterday—not because he gave up—but because Sun Wukong's touch had made him understand something.

The Golden Cudgel didn't need him to use brute force to pull it out—what the Golden Cudgel needed was—him to be ready.

This was a trust deeper than strength.

Zhi Zun Bao sat opposite him, poking the campfire with a small twig. "How does he feel?" Goten looked up at him.

Zhi Zun Bao didn't look at him—continuing to poke the campfire. "That one you touched today—Sun Wukong—how did he feel?"

Goten thought for a moment—"Tired."

"Tired?"

"Like he'd been waiting for a very, very long time—waiting until he was almost asleep—and then suddenly heard someone call his name."

Zhi Zun Bao said nothing.

He threw the twig into the fire, stood up, and brushed the dust off his pants. "Then don't keep him waiting too long."

Goten looked down at his hands—the golden light on his fingertips had already vanished—but the aura from the depths of the mountain was still waiting, breathing in and out.

He closed his eyes—not to break the seal—but to respond to that waiting.

He circulated the new power that had just successfully fused within him with all his might, not pouring it into the mountain, but into his own hands, and then his hair turned golden.

It wasn't a Super Saiyan Flash—it was a form he already possessed.

The suppression from the world's rules hadn't been completely lifted yet, he could only maintain it for three breaths—but the moment his golden hair appeared—his aura surged threefold—he felt a switch within him, suppressed for who knows how long—had been turned back on.

Zixia saw it.

Zhi Zun Bao didn't see it, but Zixia did. She didn't speak, but the corners of her lips curved upwards slightly.

The residual power deep within the mountain in the distance fluctuated again, this time a little gentler than before.

It wasn't Sun Wukong speaking—it was the power within the shell telling the Golden Cudgel—it's almost time.

The power of a Super Saiyan had reawakened—even if only for a brief three breaths.

But deep within the Golden Cudgel, Sun Wukong's Spiritual Sense, sealed within the rod, felt the resonance of the shell and opened its eyes in the darkness.

Goten sat by the campfire, not sleeping.

He replayed the feeling from earlier that day over and over, the clarity of the two powers within him completely merging.

The familiarity of the Super Saiyan power reawakening—like meeting an old friend.

And Sun Wukong's touch on his fingertips through the stone wall, cold yet warm.

Like someone who had been in an ice cellar for five hundred years finally feeling the first ray of sunshine.

He raised that hand to his eyes and looked at it—his fingertips were no longer glowing.

But he knew that power had returned, it was just suppressed, and on the day the suppression was completely lifted—he would let the entire Three Realms see it.