Retirement and Departure

In the spring of Year 3105 of Zeno's Calendar, wild cherry blossoms blanketed the slopes of Mount Paozu. The orange flag embroidered with the character "Turtle" at the entrance of the Turtle Hermit School dojo fluttered gently in the sea breeze. Its pole was a broken pillar Nappa had carried back from a patrol mission in the Connection Sea decades ago, its surface densely marked with the dates each generation of disciples had first completed the full set of basic martial arts forms on their own. The newest line still bore fresh stone dust—it had been carved stroke by stroke with qi from Talos's granddaughter's fingertip after the Fourth Martial Arts Tournament.

Goku stood at the dojo entrance, his white hair stirring faintly in the morning breeze. He wore that faded orange gi, the "Turtle" on his chest patched several times over with fine, neat stitches—Chi-Chi had mended it for him one last time before she passed away. He lowered his gaze to his hands. Deep lines crossed his callused palms, every one of them remembering the recoil of a Kamehameha, the strain of a Kaioken, the vibration of fists colliding during sparring matches with Vegeta. These hands had fought since his youth, through more battles than he could count—from Earth to Planet Namek, from The Lookout to the Tournament of Power, from the Connection Sea to the Night Watcher Observatory. Even now, they could still smash apart a mountain with one punch. But it had been a very long time since they truly had.

The sounds of young disciples' morning training came from inside the dojo. Talos's granddaughter was leading the fourth-generation trainees on laps, her commands crisp and strong. Lazuli's granddaughter was teaching several newly enrolled children beside the reef how to weave their first qi thread, while the blue-skinned girl beside them used energy resonance to help calibrate their precision. The quiet Saiyan boy had now become captain of the Universe 6 trainee team and was leading the newcomers through basic martial arts forms. A few months ago, he had told Talos's granddaughter, "Please keep teaching me," during the tournament finals. Now, he was teaching others himself.

"Vegeta," Goku said without turning around.

Vegeta walked out through the dojo doors, wearing the same faded orange gi. His white hair was somewhat shorter than Goku's, but it too drifted lightly in the morning wind. The golden patterns within his dark-blue aura had long since completely merged with his normal state. They flickered softly beneath the morning sun, like the quiet breathing of some living thing. The two stood side by side at the dojo entrance, watching the orange-clad figures running laps around the distant beach. The smallest child was the slowest, but every step he took was steady—he was a new trainee from the Saiyan homeworld of Universe 6. He had only learned the Flight Technique last month and was still adjusting to Earth's gravity. Talos's granddaughter ran beside him without urging him on, merely saying softly whenever he was about to fall behind, "Breathe. Don't stop."

"We should step down," Goku said.

Vegeta did not answer. But neither did he argue. The last time Goku had said, "We should step down," Vegeta had stubbornly replied, "Saiyans don't have a word for retirement." But this time, he said nothing—because they both knew the fourth generation no longer needed to be taught hand in hand. They could complete patrol missions independently, solve the question-and-answer mechanisms left by ancient civilizations, spar and learn from one another in martial arts tournaments, and face unknown threats alone while giving the right response. What they lacked was not strength, but opportunity. And as long as the older generation stood at the front, they were blocking those opportunities.

"When you said that last time, I hadn't figured it out yet," Vegeta finally said. His voice remained hard, but a faint softness hid among the deep wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. "Now I have. Saiyan pride isn't about always standing at the very front. It's about knowing when to step back."

Goku turned to look at Vegeta and grinned. It was the same smile he had worn when he first met Talos on Mount Paozu decades ago, the same smile he had worn when he first activated the Kaioken at The Lookout, the same smile he wore every time he faced an enemy stronger than death itself.

"Then we'll step back. Not stop fighting—we'll just give them the ring."

That evening, a bonfire was lit on the beach outside Turtle Hermit House. This gathering was not large. There were no representatives from inter-universal patrol stations, no guests from Universe 6 or New Planet Namek. There were only the Earth-bound disciples of the first, second, third, and fourth generations of the Turtle Hermit School. Goku and Vegeta sat side by side directly in front of the fire. Talos and Lazuli sat to their right. Krillin sat with Lazuli's granddaughter—she was now an assistant node operator for Star Topology, but ever since childhood, the person closest to her had not been her grandmother, but the bald grandpa who taught her to weave Qi Nets every day. Tien Shinhan and Chiaotzu sat in their old places beneath the vine trellis, while Nappa and Lapis crouched on opposite sides of the bonfire.

Goku rose to his feet, holding a bowl of seafood porridge. He looked around—he had seen these faces for decades, and each was so familiar that he could automatically picture how they had looked in their youth. He saw Vegeta sneering when he was young and saying Goku's fusion poses were stupid, while secretly cooperating every single time. He saw Krillin being scolded for slacking off at Orin Temple when he was young, then later trapping Recoome with a Qi Net and severing Majin Buu's magical regeneration. He saw Tien Shinhan being pressed in the chest by Talos's palm in a martial arts tournament when he was young, then later voluntarily leaving the Crane School to join the Turtle Hermit School. He saw King Piccolo hatch from a sealed cocoon when he was young and tell Krillin, "I remember everything"—meaning every bit of training advice he had heard while sleeping inside the cocoon. He saw Nappa being bound so tightly by a Qi Net that he could not move when he was young, then later becoming the Turtle Hermit School's most dependable frontline firepower. He saw Lapis expressionlessly say when he was young, "I'm not protecting Earth. I just don't have anywhere else to go for now," then later withstand every attack on Jiren's flank with Infinite Barrage during the Tournament of Power. He saw Chiaotzu freeze the wrong position of Nappa with his paralysis technique when he was young, apologies and explosions rising one after another—now, his technique was precise enough to lock down dozens of targets at once. He saw Bulma stay up all night developing the first-generation scouter when she was young, saying, "No matter how high the power level it detects, it won't explode," and later watched her granddaughter inherit her goggles and screwdriver. He saw Lazuli standing amid the ruins of Dr. Gero's laboratory when she was young, telling Talos, "My name is Lazuli. Android 18 is a number—I don't need a number." Decades later, her granddaughter embroidered that "Turtle" flag at the dojo entrance. He saw Talos—he saw Talos place a hand on his head for the first time beneath the moonlight on Mount Paozu and say, "I'm your brother."

"Decades ago, Master Mutaito sent us out from Turtle Hermit House to fight King Piccolo," Goku said softly, though every word could be heard clearly over the crackling fire. "Many years after that, we moved the dojo from The Lookout to Mount Paozu. Then many more years passed, and the fourth generation went on their first independent patrol aboard the New Turtle Hermit and found the Lonely One. Now, the dojo has trainees from all twelve universes. The name of the Turtle Hermit School is carved on the monument at the Night Watcher Observatory. The ruins of the Nage People are open to the whole universe, and the Guides' beacons are still burning. Every generation keeps moving forward. Every generation teaches the next how to keep going."

He paused, looking down at the gently trembling surface of porridge in his bowl. Then he raised his head again and grinned.

"So starting today—Vegeta and I are officially retired."

The bonfire fell quiet for a moment. Then Nappa's voice exploded. "Retired?! If you two retire, who am I supposed to argue with?!" Lapis added flatly, "Me." Nappa froze for a moment, then grinned even wider. Tien Shinhan opened the one third eye that still retained its sight. He said nothing, only lifted his teacup slightly toward Goku. Chiaotzu floated beside him and said quietly, "If you're retired, you can come drink tea at the training hall more often." Krillin rose from the reef, walked over, and patted Goku on the shoulder. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but in the end, he only said with reddened eyes, "The seafood porridge is getting cold." Lazuli looked down at the cracked S-1 bracelet around her wrist, then across at her granddaughter, who was helping Talos's granddaughter organize the handover list for the retirement documents. Ever since taking over as Star Topology's assistant node operator, she had never allowed a single node to lose connection during a mission.

Vegeta stood and came to stand beside Goku. He remained silent for a long time—everyone thought he would say, "Kakarot, that speech was disgustingly sentimental," but he did not. He looked at the fourth-generation disciples who had stopped training and gathered quietly around the outer edge of the bonfire. He looked at Talos's granddaughter standing straight, firelight gleaming in her eyes. He looked at the quiet Saiyan boy unconsciously pressing the sub-node against his chest. He looked at Lazuli's granddaughter and the blue-skinned girl standing shoulder to shoulder at the edge of the firelight, starlight flowing slowly along their qi threads.

"From now on," Vegeta said, "the Turtle Hermit School is yours."

Talos's granddaughter stepped out from the crowd. She clasped her hands into fists and gave Goku and Vegeta a standard Turtle Hermit School disciple's salute. Behind her, the fourth-generation disciples did the same in unison, their orange gis joining under the firelight into a warm ribbon of light.

"Yes," she said. Her voice was not loud, but every word was clear and firm.

Goku looked into her eyes and suddenly remembered the moonlight on Mount Paozu many years ago, when she had first clenched her fist and thrown a straight punch. She had only just learned to stand steadily then, and her punches had never landed straight—but every time she missed, she corrected herself. Now, she stood before him with her back straight and her gaze as steady as stone, an entire generation willing to follow her standing behind her. He walked over and placed a hand on her head—he had done this gesture all his life. The first time was when Talos had patted his head like this on Mount Paozu. After that, he had done it to countless young disciples.

"Did your grandfather ever tell you that the Turtle Hermit School can be defeated, but it can't be frightened?"

"He did. Many times."

"There's something else he didn't say—the Turtle Hermit School isn't one person's school. You can make your own decisions, but never carry everything alone."

Talos's granddaughter lifted her head to look at Goku. The bonfire's glow shone across her face, turning the brown eyes she shared with her grandfather gold. She nodded hard. She did not let herself cry, but her voice still trembled slightly.

"I'll remember."

Goku grinned, withdrew his hand, and turned back toward the bonfire. Vegeta sat down beside him. The two raised their bowls of porridge and lightly clinked them together. The crisp sound of their bowls touching scattered in the sea breeze, blending with the commands of the fourth-generation disciples as they resumed their evening training on the distant beach.

As the bonfire gradually died down, Goku and Vegeta sat side by side on the old reef rock worn with footprints from generations of Turtle Hermit School disciples. Moonlight fell across their faded orange gis, dyeing them the exact same color they had been when they first wore them decades ago. In the distance, the New Turtle Hermit was undergoing its final pre-departure calibration at a starport in the Connection Sea. The hand-painted "Turtle" character on its bow gleamed faintly in the starlight. Inside the bridge, the Lonely One's pale golden sphere of light floated above Star Topology's main node, its heartbeat pulses as steady as ever. The fourth generation's first fully independent patrol mission would officially depart the next morning. Its destination was the star region illuminated by the Guides' pillar of light, covered by the Nage People's communication protocol, recorded by the Night Watcher Observatory, yet never visited by anyone—a journey belonging solely to the fourth generation.

"Vegeta."

"Yeah?"

"Do you think the fourth generation might get lost on their first independent patrol?"

"They won't. My grandson is on that ship, and so is your granddaughter. Besides—" Vegeta tilted his head toward the distant dojo entrance. Talos's granddaughter was crouching in front of the smallest child, showing him step by step how to fasten the orange belt around his waist. He was the youngest among the newest group of trainees from the Saiyan homeworld of Universe 6. Last month, he had only just learned to wrap his tail around his waist without letting anyone step on it. He was so nervous his tail was nearly tying itself into a knot, but Talos's granddaughter did not rush him. She merely demonstrated slowly how to tie it, how to wrap it, and how to leave a gap just large enough to tuck in a sub-node.

"And besides, the fourth generation stopped being children a long time ago." Vegeta drew back his gaze, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. "What they learned wasn't just how to tie a belt. They learned how to tuck a sub-node into one."

Goku followed his gaze and grinned.

The next morning, as the first ray of sunlight rose over the horizon, the New Turtle Hermit departed from the Connection Sea starport on schedule. On the bridge, Talos's granddaughter sat in the captain's seat. Lazuli's granddaughter rapidly calibrated every sub-node in Star Topology from the main node. The blue-skinned girl monitored every known signal across the inter-universal communication channels from the co-pilot's seat. The Lonely One's sphere floated above the main node, its heartbeat pulses perfectly synchronized with the resonance frequency of the ship's engines. The quiet Saiyan boy stood at the rear of the bridge—he still did not say much, but his orange belt was tied more neatly than anyone else's, and the sub-node on his chest pulsed softly in the morning light.

Talos's granddaughter pressed the all-frequency broadcast key, and her voice spread through every Turtle Hermit School patrol station across the twelve universes. "The New Turtle Hermit's fourth inter-universal patrol mission is officially underway. Destination—the seventh quadrant of the Guides' Star Map, unexplored star region Z-1. Mission type: exploration and connection. Fourth generation of the Turtle Hermit School, all personnel ready."

On the beach of Mount Paozu, Goku and Vegeta stood side by side atop the old reef rock, watching that pale golden trail of exhaust cut through the morning sky. It grew farther and farther away, smaller and smaller, until it finally vanished into the starlit depths in the direction of the Connection Sea. Goku placed his hand over the two footprint-shaped depressions in the rock that he and Vegeta had stood in for decades. Then he turned and walked toward the dojo. A new day's morning training had already begun. The youngest batch of new trainees was running laps around the island, their orange gis forming a flowing band of orange light in the dawn. Their footsteps fell in perfect rhythm, their commands crisp and strong, startling the seagulls perched on the reef.

Goku reached the dojo entrance but did not go inside. He simply sat down in the wicker chair he and Vegeta had occupied for more than a decade. Vegeta sat beside him. Seafood porridge bubbled steaming on the stove, while Puar snored beside it with his tail curled into a ring. The wooden plaque above the dojo entrance, bearing the words "Turtle Hermit School Dojo," swayed gently in the sea breeze. The smaller line beneath it—"Master says no qi, but you can keep running"—glimmered faintly gold in the morning sunlight.

And deep in the starlight of the Connection Sea, the New Turtle Hermit sped at full power toward coordinates that had never been marked on the Guides' Star Map. On the bridge's main screen, that entirely blank star region was nothing more than a patch of black on the map. There was no known data, no markings left by any previous patrol officer—it was an unknown that belonged entirely to the fourth generation. Talos's granddaughter looked at that blank expanse, the corner of her mouth lifting slightly.

"Fourth generation, first lesson—how to carve out a road where there is none."

Dozens of young voices on the bridge replied in perfect unison, "Yes!"

The "Turtle" character on the New Turtle Hermit's bow lit up with a pale golden glow in the darkness of the unknown star region. The Lonely One's heartbeat pulses remained steady as a stellar core, and every node of Star Topology resonated at once. From the first generation to the second, from the second to the third, from the third to the fourth—every generation of the Turtle Hermit School had its own departure. And this generation's departure began now.