The Universe Tournament had concluded, and life slowly returned to normal rhythms.
Raditz and his companions returned to Earth, where the Saiyans resumed their relentless training regimens. Beerus, meanwhile, departed for his realm with unprecedented satisfaction—his wish granted, his universe victorious, and his ego thoroughly stroked.
But not everything settled so peacefully.
The moment they'd touched down on Earth's surface, Vegeta had locked his sights on Frieza with predatory intent. His killing aura flared so intensely that the air itself seemed to warp around him. "Finally," the Saiyan prince growled, his knuckles cracking as he advanced. "No more interruptions, no more tournaments. Just you, me, and long-overdue justice."
Frieza's confident smirk faltered, his tail curling defensively behind him.
But before Vegeta could close the distance, Raditz stepped between them, one hand raised in a calming gesture. "Stand down, Vegeta."
"What?!" Vegeta's eyes blazed with fury and disbelief. "You're protecting him?! After everything he's done—"
"I'm not protecting him," Raditz corrected calmly. "I'm being pragmatic. We're letting him go. For now."
The words hit like a physical blow. Vegeta's mouth worked soundlessly for a moment before he finally managed: "Have you lost your mind?!"
Raditz's expression remained steady, though his eyes carried a weight that silenced further protest. He had his reasons—reasons born from his conversation with Zeno. A tournament encompassing all twelve universes was coming, an event that would determine the fate of entire realities. Zeno had harbored prejudices against the lower-level universes for some time, and this competition would provide the perfect opportunity to eliminate those he deemed unworthy.
As a Supreme Kai, Raditz would be barred from participating as a fighter. Which meant Universe 7 needed every powerful warrior it could muster—even morally compromised ones like Frieza. The tyrant's existence served as insurance, a boost to their universe's average combat capability. If it came down to survival, personal grudges would have to take a backseat to practical necessity.
Frieza himself seemed shocked by this unexpected reprieve. His eyes darted between Raditz and Vegeta, searching for the trap, the hidden angle. When none became apparent, he quickly bowed with exaggerated gratitude—though his smile carried unmistakable relief. "How... magnanimous of you, Supreme Kai. I shall remember this kindness."
Before anyone could change their mind, Frieza rocketed into the sky, his golden aura blazing as he fled into the vast expanse of space. Within seconds, he'd become nothing more than a distant speck against the blue sky.
"You just let him go." Vegeta's voice had gone flat with barely controlled rage. "Just like that."
"It's not as simple as it seems," Raditz replied with a slight smile. "Frieza won't be enjoying his freedom nearly as much as he thinks. The Saiyan Dragon Ball Saiyaryuu still has a wish available, and I intend to use it." His expression turned cold. "I'm going to wish for something very specific—that whenever Frieza contemplates evil, whenever he acts on malicious intent, he experiences incomparable pain. Physical, mental, spiritual agony that makes him regret every dark thought."
Vegeta's anger slowly transformed into something resembling satisfaction. A cruel smile tugged at his lips. "Making him suffer every time he tries to be himself... I suppose that's a fitting punishment for someone like him."
"The best punishment for a creature like Frieza isn't death—it's preventing him from doing what he loves most. Let him live as a prisoner of his own nature."
With that matter settled, Raditz spent a few days at home with his family, cherishing the peaceful moments with Zangya and Rukon. But his mind remained restless, circling back constantly to the battle with Goku and the limitations he'd discovered.
After less than a week, Raditz announced his return to the God of Destruction Realm for the next phase of his training.
"So you've come back already," Whis greeted him with characteristic cheer, his staff chiming softly as he gestured welcome. "I'd wondered how long it would take before the pull of progress drew you back here."
Beerus lounged on his favorite rock formation, one ear twitching with mild interest. "Hmph. Can't even enjoy peace for a full week without you Saiyans showing up to train."
Raditz bowed respectfully to both of them before speaking. "During my battle with Goku, I discovered a critical limitation in my current mastery of Ultra Instinct. My defense has become nearly impeccable—my body moves to avoid danger without conscious thought. But my offense..." He clenched his fist thoughtfully. "My attacks still flow from conscious decision-making. The brain dictates the action, which creates a delay—however minimal. That's not true Ultra Instinct. That's only half the transformation."
"Very perceptive," Whis acknowledged with an approving nod. "Most fighters who achieve the defensive aspect of Ultra Instinct believe they've reached the pinnacle. You've recognized the incomplete nature of your current state. That awareness alone puts you ahead of most."
"But there's more than that," Raditz continued, his tone growing more serious. "I'm not satisfied with Ultra Instinct as a transformation at all."
Both Whis and Beerus straightened slightly, their full attention now focused on the Saiyan Supreme Kai.
"In the end, Ultra Instinct functions like a state—similar to Super Saiyan or Mystic State. It requires specific conditions to activate, produces visible changes like silver hair and altered aura, and must be consciously triggered." Raditz met Whis's eyes directly. "That's not enough. I want to integrate this realm into my very being. I want to wield Ultra Instinct's power in my base form, without any flashy transformation—the way you and Lord Beerus operate naturally."
For a long moment, silence reigned in the God of Destruction Realm.
Then Whis began to laugh—a genuine, delighted sound that echoed across the tranquil landscape. "My, my! Master Raditz, your ambitions never cease to amaze me. You do realize what you're proposing, don't you? Even Lord Beerus hasn't achieved perfect Ultra Instinct, let alone integrated it into his natural state." He leaned in conspiratorially, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. "Between you and me, that level of mastery is something only we angels possess."
"I had suspected as much," Raditz said. "What Lord Beerus cannot do, only you have achieved."
Beerus bristled slightly at that observation but didn't contradict it. He knew his own limitations, frustrating as they were to acknowledge.
"However," Whis continued, his tone turning more instructive, "there's something you should understand about even the perfect state of Ultra Instinct—it places enormous burden on the body. Without the physiology and divine essence of a true god to support it, sustained use would cause your physical form to collapse entirely. So you see, your goal of using Ultra Instinct to impact the divine realm has the process reversed. You need to reach the realm of gods first before you can safely maintain complete Ultra Instinct."
The revelation struck Raditz like a physical blow. Ultra Instinct, even in its perfect form, carried inherent risks? No wonder it was considered a technique reserved exclusively for deities. The human—or Saiyan—body simply wasn't built to withstand such power for extended periods.
But rather than discouragement, Raditz felt his determination crystallize into something even harder. So that's the wall I need to break through. Not just mastering Ultra Instinct, but evolving my entire existence to the level where wielding it becomes natural rather than destructive.
The universe contained countless beings who still surpassed him. Twelve Gods of Destruction, each with their own angels. Mirto, who'd vanished into the ruins of reality and might still lurk somewhere in the cosmos. Zeno himself, whose power transcended all conventional understanding. The higher Raditz climbed, the more he could see—and the more he saw, the more he recognized how far he still had to go.
"Then I'll take it step by step," Raditz said finally, his voice carrying quiet resolution. "I'll build the proper foundation first, master complete Ultra Instinct second, and pursue integration into my base form third. A steady path upward." He bowed deeply to Whis. "Please continue to train me, Master Whis. I'm ready for whatever challenges lie ahead."
Whis's smile transformed into something mysteriously mischievous. "Well, since you've asked so sincerely, I suppose I should train you with the same methods I used for Lord Beerus when he was learning."
From his perch on the rock, Beerus suddenly burst into laughter—loud, cackling, and distinctly malicious. "Oh, this is going to be good! Don't torture him to death, Whis! Hahahaha! You've really done it now, Raditz!"
A chill ran down Raditz's spine, his scalp prickling with instinctive dread. His entire body went cold despite the realm's comfortable temperature. What exactly does Beerus mean by that? he wondered, turning to look at Whis with growing unease.
The angel's eyes had narrowed into pleasant crescents, his smile radiating innocent warmth—which somehow made him look far more terrifying than any aggressive expression could have achieved.
Oh no, Raditz thought as realization dawned. What have I gotten myself into?
Back on Earth, unaware that Raditz had already departed for the God of Destruction Realm, Goku and Vegeta continued their training in a remote wasteland far from civilization.
Vegeta stood atop a towering rock formation, arms crossed in his signature stance, eyes locked on Goku below. His posture radiated coiled menace, like a predator preparing to strike. Meanwhile, Goku had settled into his own ready position—knees slightly bent, fists raised, expression serious and focused.
A hurricane-force wind swept through the wasteland, whipping up massive clouds of sand and dust that obscured the landscape. But neither warrior paid the storm any mind. Their auras flared simultaneously, twin pillars of power that cut through the obscuring particles like searchlights through fog. The light emanating from their ki made their positions unmistakably clear despite the environmental chaos.
Neither had transformed. They fought in their base forms, relying purely on technique and fundamental power. Yet even without any enhancement, their mere presence was reshaping the environment—wind patterns shifting unnaturally, the ground beneath them cracking from pressure alone, the temperature fluctuating wildly.
After several intense exchanges, both warriors separated, breathing heavily and drenched in sweat.
"Your speed's dropping, Kakarot," Vegeta noted between breaths, his tone carrying both criticism and concern.
Goku wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, his expression frustrated. "I've been trying to practice Ultra Instinct, but I can't seem to grasp it at all. Every time I think I'm close to that state of pure reaction, my mind kicks back in and ruins it."
"Hmph. I'll master it before you do," Vegeta declared with characteristic competitiveness.
"Maybe, but Whis said you think too much when you fight. That's a pretty big obstacle for someone trying to achieve Ultra Instinct."
The observation struck true, and Vegeta's jaw clenched visibly. "I'm working on it!" he snapped, launching himself forward in a blur of motion. Pressure radiated from him like a physical force, generating another sandstorm in his wake.
The direct assault prevented Goku from slipping into that desired state of pure instinctive response. He had to think—should he defend? Dodge? Meet Vegeta's charge head-on? Those few tenths of a second of deliberation meant his body reacted fractionally slower than optimal.
In the end, Goku chose offense. His fist shot forward to meet Vegeta's strike.
CRACK!
Their colliding punches generated a shockwave that rippled outward in concentric circles, the sound echoing like thunder across the wasteland. The force of impact was so intense that space itself seemed to warp slightly at the point of contact, reality straining under the pressure of their clashing power.
Neither fighter backed down. Their eyes locked, burning with competitive fire, and they immediately launched into another flurry of exchanges. Punch met punch, kick deflected kick, their movements becoming almost synchronized through years of familiarity. They knew each other's fighting styles so intimately that they could predict attacks almost before they happened, leading to a fierce stalemate where neither could gain decisive advantage.
Finally, they separated again, both panting harder than before.
"Hah... if we keep this up, we're going to destroy this entire wasteland," Goku observed, glancing at the devastation they'd already caused.
"Same would happen on any other planet we chose," Vegeta replied coldly. Their current strength had grown so immense that even with careful control, some environmental damage was inevitable. And fighting while constantly holding back felt deeply unsatisfying—like trying to run a race with weights tied to every limb.
Both warriors spoke simultaneously, the same thought occurring to them at exactly the same moment: "The God of Destruction Realm!"
They blinked at each other, then grinned.
"But last time, Lord Beerus specifically said he wanted to rest quietly for a while without us disturbing him," Goku pointed out, though his tone suggested he was already looking for justification to ignore that request.
Vegeta waved dismissively. "That was months ago. I'm sure he's rested enough by now." The decision crystallized in his mind with characteristic certainty. "We're going."
Goku's face lit up with enthusiasm, any lingering hesitation evaporating instantly. "Yeah! Let's head there right now!"