The sound of tearing air ripped through the dusk.
Gohan was the first to land, his feet plowing two deep furrows through the grass. Android 18 followed close behind, landing as steady as a nail driven into the ground. Android 17 appeared last, battle dust still clinging to his back.
The cottage on Mount Paozu was still there.
Goku stood in the middle of the yard, arms folded across his chest. Piccolo stood to his left, his expression grave. Vegeta leaned against a wooden post at the corner of the house, his golden aura still flickering, his transformation not yet released.
"You're back." Goku's voice was very calm, as if he were saying the weather was nice.
"Where's Cell?" Gohan swept his gaze around.
"Soon," Piccolo said, looking up at the western sky. "The purple light is getting thicker. A few more minutes."
Android 17 was staring at Vegeta. The two cold, hard types locked eyes, and the air almost froze over.
"Another one here to die?" Vegeta spoke first.
Expressionless, Android 17 said, "At least I don't need to transform to fight."
Vegeta gave a cold snort and did not argue.
"You're Android 17?" Goku walked over. "Thank you for protecting Android 18."
"She chose to do it."
"So did you." Goku smiled. "Welcome aboard."
It was so simple it was infuriating.
The sky darkened.
It was not dusk deepening; something was devouring the light. Purple radiance spread from the west, like ink dripping into clear water.
The ground shook. Cracks split the distant ridge, and it collapsed with a rumble. Flocks of birds startled into flight, then fell from midair like kites with severed strings.
The air was warping.
It was not the afterimage of high-speed movement, but space itself wrinkling, folding, tearing. It was as if someone