"Next bout! Match Twenty-One — Android 13, Timeline Three — versus Ruthless Vegeta, Timeline Five!"
The Ruthless Saiyans rose from their benches, armor gleaming, smirks already fixed.
King Vegeta folded his arms, cape dragging behind him.
"Another bucket of bolts. They never learn."
Ruthless Kakarot chuckled, cracking his neck.
"Maybe this one'll squeal when you him."
Ruthless Vegeta—broad-shouldered, scarred from years of unrestrained war—walked toward the arena with unhurried calm. His eyes were sharp, not wild. There was no showmanship, only precision; the quiet confidence of someone who had *created* his own way of fighting.
Across the ring, the Android Legion stirred. Thirteen stepped forward, coat swaying, eyes cold as polished glass. He said nothing. His hands flexed once, micro-servos whirring.
Android 15 leaned against the rail, voice lazy.
"Another monkey thinkin' he's somethin'."
Android 16 only observed. "Power signature confirmed. Saiyan physiology, enhanced battle ki. Threat: moderate."
Android 20—Dr. Gero himself—remained still, expression unreadable. Behind those sunken eyes, his mind ran like a machine of its own.
> *"Phase Two—engaged. Energy harvested from 17 and 21 successfully rerouted to 13's core. Power output: 137% above initial calibration. Yes… now he stands even beyond 21's early activation peak. Efficient, silent. If he wins, the network proves itself. If he fails, the next model inherits the surplus. Perfection through iteration."*
He clasped his hands behind his back. No one—neither android nor spectator—knew the quiet thrill building in him.
---
Vegeta rolled his shoulders, boots scraping dust.
"So, machine," he said, voice low. "You're up against a warrior who's killed gods in his own sky. Show me what that metal spine can do."
Android 13's reply was monotone. "I will delete you."
It Started.
---
Vegeta burst forward—no aura flare, no wasted motion. His self-made art, **Pride of the Saiyans**, began in its purest form: *attack first, dictate rhythm.*
His heel slammed down—feint, pivot, elbow—three beats like a drumroll.
13 blocked the first, deflected the second, absorbed the third.
The shock rippled outward, cracking the tiles underfoot.
Vegeta's grin appeared.
"Good reaction. Let's see how long that programming keeps up."
He snapped into **Blazing Fang Hook**—a crescent elbow under the chin, twist, back-heel rake.
13's torso bent with the hit, but the android countered instantly: a piston-like knee to the ribs, sending Vegeta skidding backward.
Android 13 advanced, each step measured.
He threw a right straight—Vegeta tilted his head by a hair.
The fist grazed his cheek and slammed into a pillar, *shattering* the stone clean through.
Vegeta smirked, wiping the thin cut.
"You punch well. But you *think* slow."
He vanished in a flash—appearing above, palm open.
Meteor Divide—knee into shoulder, grab the wrist, flip into a ground slam.
The ring quaked; 13's body cratered the tile.
The android rose almost instantly, eyes narrowing. His adaptive code was learning; motion curves refined, counters predicted.
Vegeta lunged again—**Prince's Guillotine**—an overhead kick wrapped in dense ki.
13 caught the leg mid-arc, twisting. Sparks exploded from contact.
They locked eyes—Saiyan blood vs. synthetic mind.
Then, *bang*—13 head-butted him. Vegeta's nose split, blood spraying.
He laughed through the red.
"Ha! Finally, something interesting!"
---
From the sidelines, other timelines reacted.
Timeline 1 Vegeta: "Hum , He fights like he wrote the damn book."
Timeline 2 Gohan crossed his arms. "Who?, Because Both are doing that"
Dr. Gero smiled faintly at the remark.
---
Vegeta launched again, aura flickering dark violet. The ground *exploded* beneath his feet.
He spun through a trio of elbows, palms, and knees, his rhythm unpredictable.
Android 13 finally responded with his own technique—**Overdrive Pulse**. His hands blurred, delivering seven body-shots in one second.
Each impact thudded with hydraulic weight; shockwaves shattered the air.
Vegeta took the barrage, sliding back, chest smoking—but his grin didn't fade.
"You hit hard, toaster. Let's see if you can read this."
He feinted high, dropped low, and swept with both legs—13 hopped back, but Vegeta was already airborne, heel descending.
Impact. Sparks. 13 blocked, caught, countered, and hurled Vegeta across the ring.
Vegeta twisted mid-flight, landing on his feet. The dust rolled past him like waves.
He spat blood, aura flickering hotter.
"Good. Now I don't have to hold back the *art*."
---
He inhaled once—deep, controlled. The crowd saw it: subtle shifts in stance, weight rolling from heel to toe, elbows angled like fangs.
Every motion was clean, ancient, and new.
— Royal Crescent Pressure
* Short jab to distract.
* Step-in elbow—ki burst mid-contact.
* Knee lift, hook kick pivot.
* Palm thrust to the sternum with a roar.
Each strike landed faster, heavier, until Android 13 was forced backward, boot heels carving lines through the tiles.
Vegeta's aura cracked, violet with red undertones. "This… this is what it means to be From the Empire , machine!"
13's systems compensated, eyes flashing.
His tone never changed.
"Observation: Saiyan combat form—unpredictable but inefficient. Adapting counter-sequence."
He blurred forward.
---
Android 13's arms split briefly—internal ports sliding open—venting white steam.
He unleashed a Cross-Drive Counterline, meeting Vegeta's rush mid-swing.
Fists collided—again, again—each hit detonating bursts of compressed air.
Vegeta slipped low, elbowing the abdomen; 13 caught his forearm, twisted, and shoulder-threw him back down.
Vegeta landed hard but rolled, using the momentum to come up spinning, tail snapping behind him like a whip.
He met 13's next blow with a mirrored strike. The air cracked.
Back and forth, they traded rhythm and chaos—metal meeting flesh, flesh refusing to yield.
---
Behind the line, Gero's grin widened.
> *"Excellent. The data transfer is stable. 13's adaptive efficiency has surpassed expectations. Each minute he fights, he learns twice as fast. By the next exchange, he'll predict every blow. Unless…"*
> He watched Vegeta's smirk.
> "…that one fights with pure confiction. No pattern. Interesting."
---
Vegeta rushed again, crossing the distance in a single blur.
13 met him with a piston punch to the chest—Vegeta blocked with his forearm, bones groaning, but countered instantly with a *head-butt*.
13 staggered; Vegeta planted a boot to his sternum and *blasted* him skyward.
The explosion lit the arena. 13 vanished into smoke.
A moment later—he dropped straight down, driving a knee into Vegeta's shoulder. A crater formed.
Vegeta coughed blood but still smiled. "Not bad."
13's hand clamped around his throat. "Correction: *perfection.*"
Vegeta slammed both hands together, point-blank ki burst. 13 was hurled backward, skidding to the edge of the ring.
---
Ruthless Kakarot cracked his knuckles, excitement glinting. "Eat that."
King Vegeta: "Good. Remind them why Saiyans rule."
Across the field, Android 15 muttered, "Looks like 13's gonna need an upgrade."
Gero didn't answer—he only watched.
---
As the two circled again, Piccolo (T1) murmured, "They're both still holding back. That Saiyan… his aura's dense but clean. Controlled rage."
Vegito (T2) nodded slightly. "That version of Vegeta's mastered his anger instead of drowning in it."
---
Vegeta raised a hand, pointing two fingers forward.
"You're a good machine. Precise. Predictable. Let me show you what *evolution* looks like."
13's sensors flared; power readings spiked.
Both blurred, vanishing and reappearing mid-arena—Vegeta's **Royal Crescent Pressure** colliding with 13's **Overdrive Pulse**.
Fists met once, twice—then both struck clean to the face.
They staggered, matching bruises forming: one of blood, one of oil.
Silence fell as they steadied, breathing heavy.
Vegeta's smirk returned, a tooth missing now.
"Good. Now we fight for real."
The tiles beneath them cracked, light gathering at their feet.
Android 13's tone dropped a pitch.
"Phase Two—engaged."
Dr. Gero's eyes glowed faintly crimson in the stands.
The next moment, both auras detonated outward—Vegeta's deep royal violet With Golden, 13's cold cerulean-white—and the ring became a storm of shattering light.
Dust swirled around the ring like smoke from artillery. Both fighters stood in silence, faint light crackling at their feet.
Android 13's eyes flashed a colder blue. A tone—somewhere between a pulse and a machine hum—echoed from inside his chest.
> "Phase 2… operational."
A ripple tore outward. His frame seemed to *expand*—not in size, but density. Panels along his forearms slid back, revealing compact conduits glowing azure. The faint hiss of vented coolant followed every motion.
Vegeta steadied his stance, eyes narrowing.
"What—upgrading mid-fight?"
13 moved before the words finished. One blink and he was behind Vegeta—elbow already striking. The hit folded the prince at the ribs and sent him crashing through a row of shattered tiles.
The crowd murmured. Even Kakarot's grin faltered.
Vegeta wiped his mouth, saw blood.
"Tch… so that's how it is."
He inhaled once; the ring began to tremble. Yellow arcs of light burst from his body as his aura snapped gold.
**Super Saiyan.**
The wind howled, tiles peeling off the floor. The sudden flare lit the android's metallic skin in gold reflection.
Vegeta vanished—instant acceleration. His boot found 13's abdomen, driving him backward. Another blow followed, a hammer-fist to the spine. The ring cracked again.
Vegeta smirked. "Game's over, machine."
But as he landed, 13 straightened slowly. The dent in his chest *re-shaped itself* with a hiss. His sensors glowed brighter.
He stepped forward once.
The air warped.
Vegeta didn't even *see* the punch—just felt his jaw snap sideways. Then another—gut, ribs, shoulder—each hit sharper, faster.
13's voice came cold through the barrage.
> "Phase 2—adapts to all recorded kinetic data. Your form has been catalogued."
Vegeta snarled, blocking a strike with his forearm—sparks flew. "Catalog *this*!"
He threw a point-blank blast. The explosion consumed them both—white-orange glare—then cleared.
13 walked out of the smoke untouched, only faint scorch marks on his vest. His skin gleamed pale steel-blue under the lights. The upper armor plates had shifted closer to his musculature, like an organic exoskeleton. Veins of energy pulsed through him—thin luminous lines racing from collarbone to wrist. His eyes were pure cobalt, expression unreadable. It wasn't monstrous; it was *precise*, almost regal in its cold perfection.
For a heartbeat, Vegeta said nothing. Then his aura flared again, brighter, sharper—lightning crackling through the gold.
Super Saiyan 2.
The blast of power shredded the ring's edge. His voice came low, almost calm:
"Fine. Let's see if data can keep up with instinct."
He shot forward. The impact of their clash sounded like thunder hitting metal.
13's movements still outpaced him, but now only barely—Vegeta's strikes whistled millimeters from the android's face. Every collision sparked blue and orange.
They broke apart, both breathing heavy—one through lungs, the other through vents.
Vegeta gathered ki at his palm; golden lightning coiled around an orange core.
"Try computing *this!*"
He thrust his hands forward.
A beam roared out—bright orange, wrapped in golden lightning, spinning on its own axis. The air screamed.
Empiral Blast.
The attack swallowed Android 13 whole. The explosion tore half the arena apart; the shockwave rolled through the stands. Spectators shielded their faces as light flooded everything.
Silence followed—just the hiss of burning tiles. Smoke drifted like fog.
Vegeta lowered his hands, panting, eyes fixed on the crater.
"Ended."
The smoke thinned.
A shadow moved. 13 stepped through—slow, deliberate. His chest plating was scorched, small fragments of metal curling away, but the core beneath still glowed steadily. Scratches traced his jaw, one streak of black oil down his neck. That was all.
He lifted his gaze to Vegeta, blue eyes steady.
> "Damage assessment: superficial. Your efficiency is admirable."
He rolled one shoulder; the sound of servos clicked into rhythm. The faint blue veins along his body pulsed once—stronger now, synchronized with his voice.
The audience felt it: he looked better under damage, like a weapon that only sharpened when struck.
Vegeta's smirk returned, but thinner. "Heh… still standing, huh? show me if that machine heart can keep up with a Saiyan's most powerfull state."
13 raised his arms, stance tightening. Sparks of azure danced across his knuckles.
---
He raised his head slowly, eyes burning.
"Now, machine… your time has come."
The air pressure dropped. A deep hum filled the arena as his aura thickened—gold folding into molten white. His hair lengthened in a rippling surge, each strand flaring like liquid fire. Sparks detonated across his body; veins of light crawled over his arms.
The ring trembled as Super Saiyan 3 took form.
When the glare faded, Vegeta stood transformed—muscles drawn tight, eyes feral and narrow. His voice rumbled lower, rougher.
"Let's finish this."
Android 13 scanned silently. His sensors screamed overload warnings; data streams poured across his inner display. Power gap—*sixty-three percent*. Every algorithm he had could not close that margin. Still, he straightened, posture deliberate.
> *"Analysis: continue engagement. Gather full kinetic profile."*
He didn't even realize he'd whispered the command aloud.
---
Vegeta moved first. The world blurred; in one blink he was behind 13, knee snapping into the android's spine. Metal screeched. 13 spun, blocking a follow-up elbow, but the impact still sent him tumbling backward.
He caught himself mid-air, feet skidding, and fired a point-blank burst. Vegeta twisted through it—every motion a streak of gold—and crashed a fist into the android's jaw. Oil sprayed.
The android staggered but did not fall. He pivoted left, absorbing the next strike on his forearm, then retreated in a flash step, forcing distance. His internal systems screamed under strain, processors searing hot as they recorded every frame of Vegeta's movement.
> *Data capture: 41 %. Transfer node A—stabilized.*
Somewhere in the stands, Dr Gero smiled thinly, hands clasped.
> *"Good. He's learning without knowing. Every byte he gathers flows into the next model. Even defeat becomes evolution."*
---
Vegeta's aura flared again, rage flickering in each breath.
"Stop dancing!" he roared. "Fight me!"
He lunged. The arena vanished in a blur of light and motion. Android 13 dodged left, blocked high, parried low—each movement exact, data compiling faster than his body could heal. Sparks showered from cracked plating; coolant mist hissed from vents in his ribs.
Vegeta's blows came faster—unrelenting, pure fury shaped by form. The sound was continuous, a storm of impacts.
13 ducked one swing, counter-jabbed, missed by a hair, caught another hit to the chest that bent his frame inward. Alarms wailed inside him; his systems throttled power to limbs, just to stay upright.
He thought—coldly, through static—*More. Record more.*
Another impact. *Just a few seconds longer.*
---
Vegeta's patience broke. "Enough!"
He roared, both hands igniting in molten gold. Then the barrage began—a hurricane of strikes, each one layered atop the last, no rhythm to predict.
Pride of the Saiyans: Final Sequence — "Crimson Tyrant Flurry."
Backfist, knee, elbow, hook, knee again—each hit detonating with thunder. The ground beneath them cratered deeper with every blow. Android 13 blocked some, deflected a few, but half still landed; every hit tore another fracture through his armor.
He reeled, trying to stabilize, systems sparking white arcs across his body. Vegeta didn't stop—he hammered, drove, crushed. Blue shards of armor exploded outward.
The crowd fell silent except for the rhythmic detonations of impact.
---
Inside 13's head, numbers blurred. His processors overloaded, visual feed flickering between static and clarity. He could no longer distinguish thought from programming.
> *"Record… adapt… forward to next node…"*
Dr Gero's eyes gleamed in the stands, catching the glow of his monitor implant.
> *"Yes. Continue, my creation. Every byte you lose, the next will inherit."*
Vegeta slammed both fists together, launching a final hammer-strike that cratered the ring and hurled 13 into the arena wall. The android hit hard, concrete shattering behind him.
Vegeta stalked forward, gold aura blazing brighter with each step.
"You've wasted my time long enough."
13 pushed himself up, half his faceplate gone, blue light leaking from beneath torn skin. His voice glitched between tones.
> "Analysis—complete."
Vegeta stopped. "What?"
> "Conclusion: combat no longer efficient."
Vegeta's brows drew together, disbelief flickering into rage. "Don't you *dare*—"
13 straightened as much as his cracked frame allowed. "I forfeit."
The word echoed. The crowd froze.
Vegeta's aura exploded in fury.
"You… what?!" He charged, stopping inches from the android's face, fists trembling.
"You think you can walk away after *that*?!"
13's eyes dimmed to a calmer hue. "Mission parameters fulfilled. Retreat—authorized." His body went still, servos locking in place. He bowed his head once, the faintest gesture of machine respect.
---
The announcer hesitated, then raised a hand. "Winner… Ruthless Vegeta, Timeline Five!"
Cheers erupted from the Saiyan stands; King Vegeta smirked, Kakarot howled triumph.
But the victor didn't celebrate. Vegeta's fists shook; his golden aura sputtered around him like wildfire burning itself out.
"Damn machine… couldn't even *die properly*," he muttered. His SSJ3 form flickered, hair shortening back to its normal gold. He spat blood, still glaring at the fallen android.
Dr Gero turned away from the field, the corner of his mouth curling upward.
> *"Excellent. Phase Two data transfer: complete. Subject 13—terminated mission flawlessly. Next unit primed."*