Galaxy Crisis Timeline

Son Gohan channeled the Dimensional Seed within him.

The multicolored crystal vibrated, tearing open a spacetime corridor in the void. With colors intertwining in a chaotic dance, he dove in, well-acquainted with the process.

The sides of the corridor were still lined with familiar fragments of time, playing scenes from different parallel universes like a flickering film strip.

He did not linger, pressing straight ahead.

A bright light appeared in front of him, and he flashed inside.

His feet touched the grass.

A breeze blew by, carrying the freshness of grass and soil. Above him, blue skies and white clouds stretched out, with rolling mountains in the distance.

The breeze ruffled Son Gohan's hair. He surveyed his surroundings—an empty grassland. He didn't know which timeline this was, but he decided to find someone and ask.

He closed his eyes and expanded his ki perception. Several familiar signatures appeared within range: Krillin's ki, along with Piccolo's, Tien's, and Chi-Chi's.

It seemed he hadn't strayed too far.

He flared his ki and flew toward Krillin's position.

It didn't take long to spot that iconic bald head traveling through the air, moving with quite some urgency.

"Uncle Krillin, where are you heading?"

Krillin halted in mid-air and turned around.

Seeing Son Gohan, he froze for a moment, his eyes scanning him up and down.

"Gohan? How did you get here?" He pointed at Son Gohan's clothes. "That's a cool outfit. It looks like something from Bulma's Capsule Corporation."

"Yeah, Aunt Bulma made it."

Krillin didn't press further, continuing, "I'm on my way to the World Martial Arts Tournament! It's being held again after the defeat of Cell. The winner gets to spar with the world's strongest, Mr. Satan."

As he mentioned "the world's strongest," the corner of his mouth twitched, clearly not buying into the title.

Son Gohan had a rough idea now.

After the defeat of Cell—this must be the timeline around the Galaxy Crisis.

"By the way, Gohan," Krillin leaned in closer, a playful smile on his face, "aren't you supposed to be at home doing homework under Chi-Chi's orders? How did you sneak out?"

Son Gohan shook his head. "I'm not the Gohan of this timeline. I'm from another space-time."

Krillin's mouth formed an 'O', and he blinked. "Doesn't that make you just like Future Trunks?"

"Something like that. But as for the World Martial Arts Tournament, I'm in. I've never participated in one before."

Krillin grinned, and the two flew side-by-side toward the tournament grounds.

They arrived shortly after.

The World Martial Arts Tournament venue was packed with people; the stands were full, and the air was thick with the roar of the crowd.

The layout of the ring was quite novel: several stone pillars stood above the sea surface, supporting a square platform. There were no railings, so falling off meant hitting the water and being eliminated.

Son Gohan scanned the area and saw many familiar faces.

Piccolo stood in a corner with his arms crossed, Tien and Chiaotzu were on the other side, and in the stands, Chi-Chi was waving her arms and shouting.

"Gohan—go for it! Win the prize money! Go!"

Son Gohan followed her gaze. On the ring stood a young man in an orange martial arts gi, about his age, who was currently tilting his head to dodge a straight punch from his opponent before pushing them off the platform with a backhanded strike.

His movements were clean and efficient, and he was clearly holding back his strength.

The Gohan of this timeline had been focusing on his studies since the battle with Cell, but his skills hadn't dulled.

He pulled back his gaze and surveyed the situation on the rings.

The fodder had mostly been cleared out, and several unskilled contestants were splashing into the water one after another.

Tien and Future Trunks were on the same platform, setting their stances to engage each other.

Son Gohan flew over immediately, landing between them.

Tien and Future Trunks stopped simultaneously, looking at each other in confusion.

Future Trunks looked at the Son Gohan in the black jacket before him, then turned his head to look at the other Gohan in the orange gi on a different ring, a look of astonishment on his face.

"Gohan? How are there two of you?"

Son Gohan smiled. "I'll explain after we finish fighting."

He assumed a starting stance. Future Trunks and Tien exchanged a glance; though they didn't understand the situation, their combat instincts already prompted them to react.

The two attacked from the left and right simultaneously—Tien's fist came crashing in from the front, while Future Trunks' sweep kick blocked the escape route from the side in perfect coordination.

Son Gohan raised his left hand to block Tien's straight punch, while simultaneously lifting his right leg to catch Future Trunks' kick with his knee.

Two muffled thuds rang out, but he didn't budge an inch.

He immediately pushed his left arm forward, forcing Tien back half a step, and followed up with a right elbow strike toward Future Trunks' chest.

Future Trunks crossed his arms to block, but the force of the elbow sent him sliding back several meters, leaving two white furrows in the ground.

Tien steadied himself and rushed back in, throwing a flurry of punches. Son Gohan tilted his head to dodge the first, sidestepped the second, and the third brushed past his collar as it hit empty air.

He struck Tien on the shoulder with a backhand blow, the force driving through him and forcing a grunt as Tien dropped to one knee.

Future Trunks prepared to charge again, but Son Gohan had already appeared before him.

With a fist stopped just inches from his nose, Trunks froze.

"That's enough."

Trunks swallowed hard. Moments later, the remaining minions were easily cleared away, splashing into the water one after another.

In the spectator stands, Bulma held little Trunks, her eyes wide.

She looked from the Gohan in the black jacket to the Gohan in the orange gi, then back at the little Trunks in her arms, her mind racing.

"Chi-Chi, I can't believe you actually let Gohan out to fight," Bulma couldn't help but ask.

Chi-Chi lifted her chin proudly. "Ever since the world found peace, I've had him studying at home every day."

"I let him enter this tournament to relax and pick up some prize money." She paused, her gaze darting between the two Gohans. "Still, having two Gohans is certainly strange."

On the arena floor, Tien had climbed to his feet and rolled his shoulders, choosing not to attack again.

He had realized—though he didn't know how—that the Gohan in the black jacket before him possessed power far beyond his own.

Future Trunks stood to the side, still looking bewildered.

"Trunks," Son Gohan turned to him.

"Yeah?"

"Your training is coming along well, but your fundamentals could still use some polishing. We'll talk after this is finished."

Trunks nodded, looking as if he half-understood.

In a small house far away, Vegeta lay on his bed, legs crossed, holding a remote control.

The television screen was broadcasting the live feed of the World Martial Arts Tournament, the camera panning over one contestant after another.

Ever since Cell had been defeated by Son Gohan, he had lost his fighting spirit and found no interest in anything. Fighting? What was the point?

Kakarot's son had left everyone else far behind; if even that brat could crush Perfect Form Cell, what was left for him to fight for?

Irritated, he pressed the remote and clicked the television off. As the screen went black, he let out a cold snort.

"Boring."

He tossed the remote onto the nightstand, rolled over, and closed his eyes, his body sinking into the mattress.

His fingers tightened instinctively, then relaxed.