Son Gohan activated the Dimensional Seed inside his body.
The multicolored crystal trembled, and a passage through time and space tore open in the void, its countless colors intertwining. He knew the way by now and plunged straight in.
The familiar fragments of time and space still lined both sides of the passage, showing scenes from different parallel universes like images flashing by on a revolving lantern.
He didn't stop, continuing straight ahead.
A bright light appeared in front of him, and he slipped through it.
His feet touched grass.
A breeze carried the fresh scent of grass and earth. Above him, the sky was blue and dotted with white clouds, while mountains rose and fell in the distance.
The breeze ruffled Son Gohan's hair as he looked around. He was in a vast, empty grassland. He had no idea which timeline he'd landed in. Never mind—he'd find someone to ask.
He closed his eyes and extended his ki sense. Several familiar energies appeared within range: Krillin's, Piccolo's, Tien Shinhan's, and Chi-Chi's.
Looks like I didn't stray too far this time.
He powered up and flew toward Krillin.
It wasn't long before he spotted that unmistakable bald head hurrying through the air. Krillin seemed to be in quite a rush.
"Uncle Krillin, where are you going?"
Krillin stopped in midair and turned around.
He spotted Son Gohan and froze for a moment, then looked him up and down.
"Gohan? What are you doing here?" He pointed at Son Gohan's clothes. "That outfit's awesome. It looks like something from Bulma's Capsule Corporation."
"Yeah, Aunt Bulma made it."
Krillin didn't ask any more about it. "I'm on my way to the World Martial Arts Tournament! They're holding it again now that we've beaten Cell. The champion gets to fight the world's strongest, Mr. Satan."
At the words "world's strongest," the corner of his mouth twitched. He clearly didn't agree with the title.
Son Gohan had a pretty good idea what was going on.
After they beat Cell—that should put him around the timeline of the Galactic Crisis.
"By the way, Gohan." Krillin leaned closer, a teasing smile on his face. "Didn't Chi-Chi have you stuck at home doing homework? How'd you escape?"
Son Gohan shook his head. "I'm not the Gohan from this timeline. I'm from another one."
Krillin's mouth fell open in an O. He blinked. "So you're kind of like Trunks?"
"Something like that. Anyway, it's the World Martial Arts Tournament. I'm going too. I've never entered before."
Krillin grinned, and the two of them flew side by side toward the tournament arena.
They arrived before long.
The World Martial Arts Tournament arena was packed. Every seat was taken, and the crowd roared with excitement.
The ring setup was unusual: several stone pillars rose from the sea, supporting square platforms. There were no guardrails. Anyone who fell went straight into the water and was eliminated.
Son Gohan glanced around and spotted several familiar faces.
Piccolo stood in a corner with his arms crossed. Tien Shinhan and Chiaotzu were on the other side, while Chi-Chi cheered loudly from the stands, waving her arms.
"Gohan—do your best! Win the prize money! Come on!"
Son Gohan followed her gaze. On the ring stood a boy in an orange martial arts uniform, about his age. He tilted his head to dodge his opponent's straight punch, then shoved him off the platform with a counter.
His movements were crisp and decisive, and he was clearly holding back.
This timeline's Gohan had kept studying after the battle with Cell, but he hadn't let his skills get rusty.
Son Gohan looked away and surveyed the action across the platforms.
Most of the weaker fighters had already been eliminated, splashing into the water one after another.
Tien Shinhan and Future Trunks stood on the same platform, facing off and preparing to fight.
Son Gohan immediately flew over and landed between them.
Tien Shinhan and Trunks stopped at the same time and exchanged puzzled looks.
Trunks glanced at the Son Gohan in the black jacket before turning to look at the other platform, where the other Gohan wore an orange martial arts uniform. His expression filled with surprise.
"Gohan? Why are there two of you?"
Son Gohan smiled. "I'll explain after the match."
He took up a fighting stance. Trunks and Tien Shinhan exchanged a glance. They still didn't understand what was going on, but their fighting instincts had already kicked in.
They attacked from either side at once. Tien Shinhan's fist shot straight at him from the front, while Trunks swept in from the side to block his escape. They worked together perfectly.
Son Gohan raised his left hand to block Tien Shinhan's straight punch, while simultaneously lifting his right knee to stop Trunks's sweep.
Two dull impacts rang out at once, but Son Gohan didn't budge.
Then he shoved forward with his left arm, knocking Tien Shinhan back half a step, and drove his right elbow toward Trunks's chest.
Trunks crossed his arms to block, but the elbow sent him skidding back several meters, carving two white streaks across the ground.
Tien Shinhan steadied himself and charged again with a flurry of punches. Son Gohan tilted his head to dodge the first, turned aside from the second, and let the third whistle past his collar.
He struck Tien Shinhan on the shoulder with his palm. The force went straight through him, and Tien Shinhan grunted and dropped to one knee.
Future Trunks tried to charge again, but Son Gohan had already appeared in front of him.
A fist stopped just short of Trunks's nose. He froze.
"That's enough."
Trunks swallowed. Meanwhile, the remaining weaker fighters were swiftly eliminated, splashing into the water one after another.
In the stands, Bulma held Kid Trunks in her arms, her eyes wide.
She looked at the Gohan in the black jacket, then at the Gohan in the orange martial arts uniform, and finally at Kid Trunks in her arms. Her mind raced.
"Chi-Chi, you actually let Gohan come out and fight?" Bulma couldn't help asking.
Chi-Chi proudly lifted her chin. "Ever since world peace returned, I've kept him home studying every day."
"I let him compete this time so he could relax a little and maybe win some prize money." She paused, her gaze shifting between the two Gohans. "But having two Gohans around really is strange."
Back on the platform, Tien Shinhan had gotten up and rolled his shoulder. He made no further move to attack.
He recognized it: even if he didn't know what was going on, the Gohan in the black jacket was far stronger than he was.
Future Trunks stood nearby, still looking bewildered.
"Trunks." Son Gohan turned to him.
"Hm?"
"Your training's coming along, but you could still polish your fundamentals. I'll talk to you after the match."
Trunks nodded, only half understanding.
Far away, inside a small house.
Vegeta lay on the bed with his legs crossed, remote in hand.
The World Martial Arts Tournament was on TV, the camera panning across one competitor after another.
Ever since Son Gohan had destroyed Cell, Vegeta had lost all his fighting spirit. Nothing interested him anymore. Fighting? What was the point?
Kakarot's son had left everyone else far behind. That brat could even crush Perfect Cell. What was the point of Vegeta fighting?
Irritated, he pressed the remote. The TV clicked off. He gave a cold snort.
"Boring."
He tossed the remote onto the bedside table, rolled over, and closed his eyes, sinking into the mattress.
His fingers clenched unconsciously, then relaxed.
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