Above the sea of clouds, under a dome of azure sky, the Lookout stood serene.
At the palace entrance, the vast circular plaza—meticulously maintained for millennia by Mr. Popo, the Other World-born attendant—was adorned with flower beds and ancient trees, their gnarled branches heavy with foliage.
Mr. Popo hummed, watering can in hand, tending to the blossoms with care.
Nearby, Piccolo effortlessly deflected Chi-Chi's relentless strikes, his fingers barely moving as he parried her flurry of blows.
Farther off, Krillin and Yamcha sat cross-legged, eyes closed, hands loosely clasped or forming subtle seals. Beads of sweat dotted their brows as they engaged in a fierce mental battle through interwoven ki.
From the leafy canopy, a tiny golden-haired girl—Joey—swung lazily on a branch before perking up. Two figures had just ascended from below.
Son Gohan (lavender hair) and Denim (black hair) touched down, greeted by Joey's cheerful flutter. "You made it!"
"Yep!" Gohan smiled.
Denim grinned, shaking Joey's twig-like arms before she settled atop his head like a living hat.
As the trio approached the plaza's heart, Krillin and Yamcha exhaled in unison, their duel concluded. "Phew!" Krillin waved. "Hey, kids!"
"Uncle Krillin! Uncle Yamcha!" Gohan bowed politely.
Denim offered a half-hearted wave—standard for his energy-conserving lifestyle.
"Gohan! Over here!"
Beyond the shade, a translucent energy dome—tent-sized—glowed softly. Inside, two lounge chairs hosted Bulma (violet bob, waving) and Tights (blonde, nose in a book).
Stepping into the oxygen-rich bubble, the boys were promptly smothered with maternal affection. Tights wiped Denim' dusty face. "Still no sign of those androids your dad mentioned?"
"Nope," Denim lied smoothly.
Gohan side-eyed him. "He vanished to snack the second we arrived. Zero effort."
"Slacker," Tights teased, tweaking her son's nose. "Wait till your dad's back."
"Not yet~" Denim yawned, unrepentant.
Their banter was cut short by a baby's wail.
A tiny, tail-swinging figure barreled from the palace—black-haired, chubby-fisted, and loud.
"Whoa! Another Saiyan?!" Yamcha gaped.
Piccolo paused mid-spar; Chi-Chi wiped her brow. Mr. Popo set down his watering can.
Gine rushed after the toddler, with Bardock strolling behind.
"Goku's new brother?" Krillin joked.
The baby—stronger than his size suggested—squirmed free of Gine's grasp, only to be scooped up by Bardock like a misbehaving kitten.
"Nope," Gine corrected, cuddling the now-subdued child. "Raditz dropped him off last week."
Silence.
The mental image of Raditz as a father short-circuited the group.
('Did some woman dump this kid on him?' Tights mused. 'Typical deadbeat Saiyan move…')
"Granny Gine," Gohan asked, eyeing his uncle's son with fascination (and slight tail-envy), "what's his name?"
Gine cradled the now-calm baby with a smile. "His name is Tonapp."
Denim—still with Joey perched on his head—leaned in, eyeing the infant's tail. 'That girl on Vegeta's shoulder had one too… So fluffy. Wonder if it's squeezable?'
Among the Saiyans he knew, only Granny Gine and Uncle Raditz kept their tails. But Gine was both elder and female (awkward!), and Raditz… well, Denim couldn't be bothered to endure the scolding.
Just as his fingers twitched toward Tonapp's tail, Mr. Popo emerged carrying a tray of seven glowing Dragon Balls.
"Is Yamiru ready?" Krillin and the others cleared space.
"Mm." Mr. Popo set the radiant orbs down. "The First Kami just telepathically confirmed—revival is a go."
The crowd stepped back as Mr. Popo summoned Shenron.
Lightning split the sky. Darkness swallowed the sun. A dragon surged upward from the plaza.
Shenron's eyes snapped open—no Yamiru in sight? 'Thank the stars!' He grinned in relief.
---
Other World, King Yemma's Office
"Lord Yemma, you're being ridiculous!" Yamiru complained. Beside him stood Tien and Chiaotzu, their halos gleaming.
His trip to guide their training on King Kai's planet had serendipitously led him to the Metamorans—the fusion dance masters from the comics. "Might as well," he'd figured, learning their techniques.
Meanwhile, Tien and Chiaotzu had struggled with the Kaio-ken but grasped the basics of the Spirit Bomb. Not for combat, yet the cosmic energy insights were invaluable—exactly Yamiru's goal.
'Mastering the bomb isn't the path to godhood. Creating it is.'
But when Yamiru tried escorting them back to Earth, King Yemma blocked the door.
"You're neither a god nor the Supreme Elderly Lord!" the ogre bellowed. "No smuggling dead people out! Even if I know you'll revive them with Dragon Balls!"
Hence Yamiru's psychic "call" to Mr. Popo for a remote revival.
"Cheapskate," he muttered.
King Yemma's desk slammed under his fist. "WHAT WAS THAT?!"
Tien and Chiaotzu sweatdropped.
Minutes later, their halos faded.
"SCRAM!" King Yemma shooed them out. "You're clogging my paperwork queue!"
Yamiru vanished with his students, chuckling.
---
Back on the Lookout
Whoosh. Three figures materialized.
Krillin sensed Tien and Chiaotzu instantly. Above, Shenron had bolted post-wish—Piccolo could attest to his haste.
('…The Dragon Realm,' Piccolo mused, unnerved by his master's descriptions.)
"Tien! Chiaotzu!" Krillin and Yamcha rushed over.
Yamcha elbowed Tien. "How's being dead?"
"Peaceful," Tien deadpanned. "Want to try?"
Krillin backed away. "I'm still single! Hard pass!"
"Only you'd die for training," Yamcha sighed.
"But damn, you did get stronger!" Krillin punched Tien's rock-hard abs.
Nearby, Yamiru reunited with Tights, their murmured words lost in the breeze.
Denim gulped as his father's gaze fell upon him. With an awkward chuckle, he said, "Dad, we didn't find any androids like you mentioned! We searched the South City area multiple times..."
Yamiru nodded slightly. Calculating the timeline, today—nine years after the Saiyan invasion—should have aligned with the original android saga. That's why he'd previously instructed the boys to patrol South City for any signs of suspicious activity or figures resembling Androids 16 through 20.
Over these nine years, as his own power grew exponentially, Yamiru had also been vigilant for microscopic spy robots—the kind even Super Saiyans and Super Piccolo might miss. Yet he'd found nothing. In the original timeline, Piccolo had only detected them after Cell's warning. Given Yamiru's current perception, any such machines would've been instantly discovered and destroyed.
'There probably won't be a Cell in this timeline,' Yamiru mused. 'Which likely means no Trunks from the future either.'
He recalled how, years ago during his journey with Master Gohan and Tights, they'd seen newspaper reports about the complete annihilation of the Red Ribbon Army. Unlike in the original timeline where Goku had dismantled them piecemeal, here someone had obliterated them root and branch—Dr. Gero presumably included.
Truthfully, Yamiru didn't consider the androids a real threat anymore.
If beings like him—who had reached his current level—still needed to worry about androids or Cell, they might as well start over from scratch.
Even if the androids did appear, he seriously doubted they could create anything resembling the "dystopian future" timeline. Goku's heart virus? Thanks to Yamiru's warnings, Bulma had run exhaustive tests years ago and treated it preemptively. And leaving aside himself, or Bardock who could also access Super Saiyan God form, or Vegeta who'd achieved Super Saiyan years prior, or the other Earth warriors... could the androids even defeat the creator of the Dragon Balls himself—Yamiru's first disciple, the genius Namekian Piccolo?
'Good luck creating any apocalyptic future scenarios now.'
Events had proven this correct. Three years ago, no mysterious future warrior had appeared.
Yamiru's thoughts flashed by in an instant. He pointed at Denim and said bluntly, "Since you're participating in the upcoming tournament with Gohan, you'd better train seriously. If you don't win first place, no snacks for a week."
"Wha—first place?!" Denim' face fell. Beside him, Gohan patted his shoulder with an innocent smile. "Want me to go easy on you?"
"Shut up!" Denim grumbled.
---
After the lighthearted banter, it was time for serious business.
This gathering wasn't accidental. While Gine, Bardock, Chi-Chi and Piccolo lived here permanently, Yamcha and Krillin had come specifically today for Tien and Chiaotzu's revival. Bulma, hearing something interesting was happening, had dragged Tights along. The boys had been summoned last.
Tien, Chiaotzu, Yamcha, Krillin, and even Chi-Chi—after years of training—had long since hit their apparent limits in terms of raw power. They'd arranged today's meeting precisely to have Piccolo unlock their latent potential.
"I'll go first," Chi-Chi declared, stepping forward.
Piccolo, ever taciturn, simply placed his massive palm atop her head without ceremony.
Under the group's watchful eyes, Chi-Chi's body erupted with a brilliant white aura as she squeezed her eyes shut nervously.
'Crackle! Crackle!'
Those sensitive to ki felt miniature energy surges in their heads as Chi-Chi's power level skyrocketed before their senses.
Krillin and Yamcha gasped. Even Tien and Chiaotzu looked shocked—Piccolo's technique produced instant, dramatic results!
"This..." Chi-Chi stared at her palms, the first to feel the surging power within. "Is this really me?"
Piccolo withdrew his hand, his expression unchanged. "Next."
[Power Level Increases]
Chi-Chi: 2,020 → 22,000
Krillin: 11,000 → 110,000
Yamcha: 6,600 → 66,000
Tien: 40,000 → 170,000
Chiaotzu: 1,000 → 9,000