Lalizi's Child

Five months later. Outside the delivery room at the hospital attached to Capsule Corporation in West City, Kashu sat on a bench in the hallway, his hands clasped, his expression calm. But Lazuli knew he was nervous—his fingers were trembling slightly, and his breathing was twice as fast as usual. "Are you alright?" Bulma walked over and handed him a cup of coffee.

"I'm fine," Kashu took the coffee but didn't drink it. "Lazuli will be fine," Bulma said. "She's a Super Android; giving birth is as simple as a sneeze for her." No sooner had she spoken than a loud cry echoed from the delivery room. Kashu stood up abruptly, spilling his coffee all over the floor. The door to the delivery room opened, and a nurse walked out carrying an infant wrapped in a white towel. "Congratulations, Mr. Kashu, it's a boy." Kashu took the baby, looking at the wrinkled little face. The infant's eyes were closed, his tiny hands balled into fists, his mouth opening and closing as he let out a faint cry. Kashu's eyes grew moist. He had never cried before—not because he didn't want to, but because his God form had stripped him of the ability to weep. But at this moment, his eyes were truly wet. It wasn't out of sadness, but because of an indescribable emotion.

Life. A new life. His and Lazuli's child. "He's so ugly," Lazuli walked out of the delivery room, her face pale but her spirits high. She walked to Kashu's side and looked at the baby. "All newborns look like that," Bulma said. "He'll be cute in a few days." "Are you sure?" Lazuli looked at the baby. "He looks like a little old man." The baby seemed to understand her words, and his crying grew louder. Kashu gently rocked the baby, using his divine power to soothe him. The baby's cries gradually faded, turning into soft whimpers. "What's his name?" Bulma asked. Kashu and Lazuli exchanged a glance. "Karrot," Kashu said. "Karrot Kashu."

"A Saiyan name?" Bulma raised an eyebrow. "Yes," Kashu said. "In memory of the Saiyan homeland." Lazuli did not object. She looked at the baby, a gentle smile touching her lips. "Karrot, welcome to this world." During the first week after Karrot was born, Kashu barely closed his eyes. It wasn't that he didn't want to sleep, but because Karrot would cry every two hours. He cried when hungry, cried when wet, cried when hot, cried when cold, and would cry for no reason at all. Although Lazuli was a Super Android, she still needed rest after childbirth. Kashu took the initiative to handle the night shifts. He learned to change diapers, mix formula, lull the baby to sleep, and burp him. His divine power was useless in the face of parenting; he could only rely on the most primitive method—patience. "You're more capable than I imagined," Lazuli said one morning when she woke up to find Kashu pacing the living room with Karrot in his arms. The baby was already asleep, but Kashu didn't dare put him down for fear of waking him. "It wasn't as hard as I thought, either," Kashu said, though his dark circles betrayed him.

"Go to sleep," Lazuli took the baby. "I've got him." Kashu shook his head. "I'm not tired." "Your dark circles could pass for a panda's. The God form doesn't make me sleepy." "Then sit with me for a while." The two sat on the sofa, Karrot sleeping soundly in Lazuli's arms. "Kashu," Lazuli said suddenly, "I want 17 to be Karrot's godfather."

Kashu nodded. "Fine. Android 16 could be a godfather too. Either is fine. And Gohan, Piccolo, Krillin..." "Are you trying to assemble a legion of godfathers?" Lazuli laughed. "Our child needs plenty of protection." Kashu took her hand. "He will be very safe." Outside the window, the sun rose, and a new day began.

Karrot grew quickly. By three months, he could roll over. By five months, he was crawling. By eight months, he stood up. At one year old, he took his first steps. Every milestone filled Kashu and Lazuli with surprise and pride. Karrot inherited his parents' features—black hair (Kashu's), blue eyes (Lazuli's), fair skin, and a bright smile. His personality was more like Lazuli's: quiet, independent, and a bit aloof, though he would show a rare smile to those he knew well. His combat power was also growing rapidly. By age one, his power level had already reached that of an average adult. At two, he could move freely in ten times the gravity. At three, he transformed into a Super Saiyan for the first time. That day, Karrot was chasing a butterfly in the garden. The butterfly flew too fast, and he couldn't catch it, stomping his feet in frustration. Then his hair turned gold, his eyes turned teal, and an aura erupted from within him, blowing all the flowers in the garden away.

Lazuli rushed out of the house and froze when she saw her son in his Super Saiyan state. "He can transform at three?" she said in disbelief. "Even earlier than Goten and Trunks."

Kashu stood at the doorway, watching his son, complex emotions flashing in his eyes. "His potential is greater than mine," Kashu said. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Both." Karrot reverted from his Super Saiyan state and looked at the ruined garden, his eyes welling up with tears. "Mommy, the flowers... the flowers are gone..."

Lazuli sighed, knelt down, and patted her son's head. "It's okay, we'll plant more." Karrot burst into a smile and threw himself into his mother's arms.

Kashu watched the mother and son, a feeling he had never experienced before surging in his heart. Happiness. True, pure, unadulterated happiness.

He had once thought power was the source of happiness, believing that becoming the strongest would grant him everything. But now he understood: happiness didn't lie in how strong you were, but in having the people you loved by your side. He looked at Lazuli and Karrot, a smile gracing his lips. This was the most beautiful moment of his life. On Karrot's third birthday, an unusual event occurred. Android 16 suddenly detected an abnormal energy fluctuation from the global monitoring system. The fluctuation originated from the depths of the universe, tens of thousands of light-years away, but its intensity was shockingly high. "What is this?" Kashu stared at the data on the holographic projection, his brow furrowed. "Unable to identify," Android 16 said. "The energy signature doesn't match any known life form. It doesn't belong to Saiyans, Namekians, Frieza's race, or any recorded extraterrestrial species." "Could it be the Supreme Kai?" Bulma asked. "Doesn't look like it," Kashu said. "The Supreme Kai's divine power is gold, while this energy is purple. And the intensity... it's far stronger than the Supreme Kai."

He closed his eyes, using his divine power to sense the source of that energy. His perception traveled through interstellar space, spanning tens of thousands of light-years, and finally touched the core of that energy. Then he snapped his eyes open, his face pale. "Kashu, what's wrong?" Lazuli asked nervously. Kashu took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Something has awakened," he said. "A very ancient, very powerful existence. It has been sleeping, and now it has awakened." "What kind of thing?" "I don't know the name, but its ki reminds me of records in ancient texts. At the dawn of the universe, there were ancient deities; they were not gods who created life, but... gods of destruction." "God of Destruction?" Gohan frowned. "Yes," Kashu said. "The balance of the universe requires two forces—creation and destruction. The Supreme Kai is responsible for creation and maintenance, while the God of Destruction is responsible for... destruction. Not evil destruction, but necessary destruction. Eliminating the backward, the decaying, the things that hinder the evolution of the universe." "Like pruning branches," Piccolo said. "Cutting off the dead wood to let new shoots grow." "Exactly," Kashu said. "But this God of Destruction... his power far exceeds any Supreme Kai. If he comes to Earth, we might not be able to stop him." Everyone fell silent. Three-year-old Karrot sat in the corner playing with blocks, completely unaware of what the adults were talking about. He stacked the blocks into a tall tower, then pushed it over, clapping his hands happily. "Destruction," to him, was just a game.