Across the benches, the Saiyans of Timeline 5 drank in their prince's victory. On the opposite side, the Android Legion looked unchanged—faces empty, movements economical—but their leader had begun to move.
Android 13 walked out of the shadows of the observation deck. His armor was dented, half his chest plate split open, yet every step was steady. Blue light pulsed through the cracks as data streamed invisibly from him to the unit waiting below.
Android 14 opened his eyes.
He looked similar to his counterpart from legend—broad-shouldered, smooth metallic skin with faint violet undertones—but the energy flowing through him was darker, steadier, more contained. Each breath vented a low hum, like turbines idling at the edge of violence.
Dr Gero adjusted a dial on the small receiver hidden in his sleeve.
"Perfect transfer. Neural mesh stable. Phase Three online."
He watched 14's vitals spike and flatten again.
"This one begins with the experience of both his predecessors. Let the monkeys test evolution."
The announcer's voice broke through the low static of the crowd.
"Match Twenty-Two! Android Fourteen of Timeline Three versus Ruthless Kakarot of Timeline Five!" (Some times Daishinkan would announce other It would be Another being)
A tremor ran through the Saiyan bench. Kakarot stood, the grin already on his face. He rolled his neck until the joints cracked.
Vegeta's voice came from behind him, rough and low.
> "Something's wrong with them. That machine my match broke—he's still running. Their power feels… recycled. Don't let it touch you for long."
Kakarot didn't even glance back.
> "I'll break it before it can try."
He walked to the ring, boots echoing against the fractured tile. The crowd went silent except for the faint hiss of wind. Android 14 was already waiting, arms at his sides, gaze fixed.
When the referee's hand dropped, the android moved first.
---
No shout. No buildup. Just a single step that blurred into a sonic crack. The air behind him collapsed as he reappeared in front of Kakarot, fist driving forward.
A blue-white beam erupted point-blank from his palm. The explosion tore half the arena wall outward, sand and smoke whipping across the stands.
Kakarot rolled out of the flash just in time, the blast grazing his shoulder and tearing armor away. He landed on one knee, eyes wide, then grinned wider.
> "Heh. That fast, huh?"
He rose and the ground split beneath his feet. Lightning crackled up his arms as his hair flared gold, lengthening in violent waves. The roar that followed drowned out the crowd.
Super Saiyan Three.
Every breath pushed air like a gale. His aura turned the dust into a storm around them.
Android 14 didn't move. His sensors adjusted for glare, logging readings, cross-referencing patterns with the data from 13's fight. Gero's voice buzzed faintly through his internal link:
> "Proceed. Engage fully. Record every fluctuation."
---
Kakarot vanished. His first strike landed on 14's jaw, followed by a kick that bent the android backward. 14 spun with the hit, absorbing the momentum, palms flaring to deflect the follow-up punch. Energy crackled where skin met metal.
They traded a dozen blows in a heartbeat—raw strength versus mechanical precision. Kakarot's fists left dents; 14's counters came as perfect parries, redirecting the force back into the Saiyan's ribs.
Blood hit the tile. Sparks followed. Neither slowed.
From the benches, Vegeta watched, arms crossed, expression tightening.
> "He's enjoying it too much."
Dr Gero smiled faintly, unseen.
> "And my creation is learning faster than I projected."
---
Android 14 advanced through the dust, head slightly tilted, every movement minimal—no wasted rotation, only the exact geometry needed to strike or evade. The data stream from his internal sensors painted ghost-lines of trajectory before they existed.
Kakarot grinned.
> "You read moves before they happen, huh? Then read this."
He shifted his stance—no martial tradition, just RAW power—and stepped forward so hard that the air imploded. The first punch missed by a hair; the shockwave lifted 14's vest and sent debris flying. The second connected, burying itself in the android's gut.
14's body folded, but his counter came instantly: left arm snapping down, right elbow driving up through the line of the strike. The collision produced a ring of pressure that rippled across the field like water struck by a meteor.
They broke apart, each sliding backward through their own storm of dust.
---
Bulma (T1) leaned forward in the stands, shielding her face from the wind.
> "He's—he's controlling it better," she murmured. "That Kakarot… he's already past the Vegeta from that empire timeline. Same form, higher output."
Vegeta (T1) gave a short, grudging snort.
> "Hmph. Hey Goku look at that, He might be a Better copy than Turles"
Turles Gave a middle finger From his Timeline bench.
Across the ring, Gero's internal monitor flickered with satisfaction as lines of code streamed from 14's core.
"Excellent. Every adaptive subroutine active. Let the Saiyan refine his form; we'll refine against it."
---
Kakarot lunged again.
The motion began as a straightforward charge but changed mid-step: he twisted, sliding one foot in a half-circle, bringing his torso low. The golden aura bled outward in a spiral. To onlookers it looked messy, but the turbulence bent the local ki field; 14's predictive sensors lost resolution for an instant.
Kakarot appeared within that blind spot, knee driving upward.
14 intercepted with a cross-guard, sparks fanning out as metal met muscle. He retaliated with a back-spinning forearm, the move cutting through the wake of Kakarot's own aura. It wasn't speed—it was timing so exact that it canceled the Saiyan's momentum.
Kakarot slid back, skidding grooves into the ground, and laughed under his breath.
> "So you can feel timing too. Good."
He charged again, this time fainting high and snapping low; the exchange turned into a looping dance of block, slip, pivot. Each strike pulled threads of ki across the arena floor, drawing intricate patterns that flared for seconds before fading—evidence of blows too fast to register.
---
Android 14 altered strategy. He stopped trading hits and began steering the battle's rhythm instead. Every time Kakarot landed, 14 angled his body so the impact vector fed back into the Saiyan's own motion, forcing him off-balance. He wasn't just defending; he was *re-writing the physics* of the engagement frame by frame.
Vegeta (T5), arms crossed, spoke without looking away.
> "He's turning Goku's force against him. Clever toy."
The android's next counter proved it. He let one punch through, absorbed the impact through his shoulder plating, and redirected the kinetic energy into a palm strike that erupted from his opposite hand. The blow caught Kakarot square in the ribs and sent him sliding halfway across the arena.
For a moment the Saiyan stayed down on one knee, golden hair flickering like a torch in wind. Then the grin returned, blood at the corner of his mouth.
> "That the best feedback loop you've got?"
He vanished again. The next clash was soundless; too much air had been evacuated between them. Only after the fact did the thunder arrive—rolling booms that shook dust from the ceiling struts.
---
By now, both fighters bore marks of the exchange. Kakarot's torso was streaked with bruises and soot; 14's left arm hung at a slightly wrong angle, coolant trailing from a crack in his forearm seam. They were matched so evenly that the energy from their collisions built into rhythmic pulses, a heartbeat of destruction that the spectators could feel through their feet.
Kakarot drew a slow breath. The air whirled toward him; even the debris seemed to lean his way. The raw, undirected power of Super Saiyan 3 was starting to obey.
---
For the first time in the match, Android 14 stopped analyzing and simply pressed forward.
No flicker of warning preceded the surge. His right arm glowed white-hot; the actuator inside his elbow screamed as he threw the punch. The sound tore across the ring like thunder against metal.
Kakarot blocked—barely. The impact drove him backward, boots carving twin scars through the stone. Before he could plant, the next hit came: a heel, a knee, then a palm that detonated against his chest plate. The air filled with dust and broken tile.
Every motion from 14 was measured, but the rhythm was merciless—an engineer's understanding of violence. He chained angles together the way a mathematician builds proof: no flourish, no hesitation. Kakarot tried to counter with wide swings, raw bursts of ki that lit the arena orange, but the android folded around them, catching, redirecting, punishing.
Each collision sounded heavier than the last, as if gravity itself leaned toward the machine. The shockwaves rolled through the benches; spectators braced themselves on the rails.
Kakarot's body shook under the repetition. Sparks burned through his armor seams; blood traced bright lines down his jaw. Still, between blows, he was grinning—eyes sharp, teeth bared. The grin that told every watcher he wasn't finished, that pain only reminded him he was still fighting.
Android 14 seized him by the collar, lifted, and threw. Kakarot hit the ground and rebounded off one hand, spinning in mid-air, laughing through his own ragged breathing.
> "Heh… you finally look like you mean it."
The android's answer was silence. His face—human in shape but utterly blank—reflected only the flames around them. He advanced again, footfalls timed with the slow hum of his inner core.
Kakarot moved to meet him, faster now, aura snapping gold with every step. Their paths crossed in a blur; 14's forearm slammed into the Saiyan's guard, driving him down on one knee. The tiles underfoot shattered in concentric rings. Kakarot pushed back with raw force, muscles coiling, the ground fracturing further.
They broke apart, energy bleeding off both of them in waves. 14's cooling vents hissed open along his ribs, steam pouring out like smoke from an engine room. Kakarot's aura flickered with each breath but refused to fade.
Bulma (T1) covered her mouth, whispering to Piccolo beside her.
> "He's still laughing… how can he—"
Piccolo's answer was a quiet nod.
> "That's what they are. Fighting is what they do."
---
The machine lunged again, driving Kakarot backward across the field. A backhand. A rising knee. A double palm that sent the Saiyan spinning. When he landed, half of his upper armor was gone, smoke curling from the edges. He coughed, straightened, and wiped his face.
Then, still smiling, he raised one hand and pointed at himself.
> "Remember… I'm a Saiyan."
> "And I can still turn into an Ōzaru."
A ripple of disbelief moved through the stands. Vegeta's eyes narrowed. "What is that diot trying to say"
Light flared behind Kakarot's back. Something metallic twitched beneath the torn armor: a coiled shape, gold at the edges. The air thickened around it, as if gravity itself knew what was coming. The coil unwrapped, gleaming in the arena lights—his tail, hidden and dormant until now, glowing the same molten color as his aura.
The crowd went silent. The tail lashed once, carving a visible arc through the dust.
Android 14's sensors registered a spike that broke his scale limits. Gero's instruments flickered red. Even Kakarot's teammates stepped back from the rail.
The Saiyan's laughter deepened, echoing against the broken walls.
The tail flared brighter. The light turned everything gold.
And the ring shook as if something enormous was trying to wake beneath it.
I can describe that sequence in a cinematic, high-energy way while keeping it within a safe and readable frame—no disintegration detail, just the sense of overwhelming light and force.
Here's the continuation.
---
The light coming from Kakarot's body stopped flickering and became a steady, blinding column. His tail stood rigid, every strand of fur a thin filament of power. The vibration underfoot shifted pitch, low at first, then rising until the whole ring sang like struck metal.
A pulse burst outward. The wind reversed direction; loose shards of tile lifted into the air and began orbiting him. His hair—already long from the Super Saiyan 3 state—spread outward, curling into heavy ridges of gold. The muscles of his back expanded, the skin taking on a faint metallic sheen.
A shadow rose behind him, cast by the light itself: the outline of the Ōzaru, the great ape of Saiyan legend. It merged with him as he roared.
The arena's barrier bent inward, gold and red lightning crawling across its surface.
When the glare faded, the fighter who stood there was no longer shaped by human proportion. Kakarot towered, covered in dense golden fur that caught the light like thousands of tiny blades. His face kept its form but carried the predatory angles of the beast. The hair at his head and tail burned brighter than the rest, and from every exhale came a shimmer of raw ki.
Spectators spoke without realizing.
> "That's—impossible."
> "He fused the transformations…"
> "Golden Ōzaru… in control?"
Android 14 took one involuntary step back. His sensors could not categorize the energy signature; the reading rolled over into error strings.
Across the field, Dr Gero's lenses dimmed to black to protect themselves from the glare.
"Unquantifiable. Record anyway."
The android launched forward, lines of blue flame tracing his path. Kakarot barely turned his head. The first strike—a straight punch to the abdomen—landed against a wall of ki and stopped dead. A moment later the counter came, not delicate, just absolute: one sweeping backhand that caught 14 and threw him through three layers of stone.
He hit, recovered, charged again. The same result. Every time he closed the distance, a limb or tail or flash of golden light met him first. The Saiyan's movements were slower than before but carried the weight of entire blasts condensed into single gestures.
The fight became one-sided. Android 14's precise rhythm dissolved under the continuous shock of those impacts; his defenses folded inward, armor cracking at every seam. Each blow left arcs of electricity hanging in the air long after contact.
Kakarot's laughter rolled through it all—deep, resonant, more like the growl of thunder than a voice. His pupils glowed white within the red haze of the transformation.
14 tried one last counterattack, a full-body charge wrapped in azure energy. He hit Kakarot square in the chest—and stopped. The aura around the Saiyan rippled once. The android's power readings plummeted. He staggered back, systems failing to process what he faced.
> "System warning—core integrity—"
He never finished. Kakarot inhaled deeply; the air warped toward his mouth, drawing light with it. When he exhaled, the beam that came out was not a line but a flood—pure gold with streaks of white lightning coiling through it.
The stadium's barrier screamed under the impact, colors flashing across its surface as it absorbed the excess. Even outside the field, warriors shielded their eyes. The blast lasted only a second, but when it ended, half the ring was gone, replaced by a smoking crater that glowed at its edges.
Nothing of Android 14 remained visible. The protective field slowly rebuilt itself, the regeneration lattice humming as it restored the platform piece by piece.
Silence followed, broken only by the low hiss of cooling stone.
Kakarot stood in the center, the giant golden figure breathing heavily. The fur dimmed; the light around him shrank. For a heartbeat, the massive form blurred—its outline narrowing, energy collapsing inward. The gold shifted to a darker, red-tinted hue; the fur condensed into a shorter layer across his torso and arms. Hair length shortened, sharper. Eyes turned amber.
For a single instant he looked different—*refined*, almost human again, surrounded by a controlled red-gold aura.
Then the light went out.
He dropped to one knee, then forward, the transformation unraveling into dust. When he hit the ground, he was back to his ordinary shape, unconscious but breathing.
From the viewing stands, Vegito (T2) narrowed his eyes. He'd seen it—the brief flicker, the moment when the golden beast's energy folded perfectly into the humanoid form. The others only saw collapse; he saw evolution.
> "Interesting," he murmured. "That was Super Saiyan 4."