That hadn't been a precise ki blast. That had been a cannon. Even weakened, even starving, his energy output was completely out of proportion to what he'd intended.
This was going to be a problem.
A bigger problem than he'd realized, because the smell of burning wood was attracting attention.
His ki sense picked up movement in the jungle around him. Not the small signatures of birds and rodents, but something larger. Multiple somethings, moving through the trees with purpose.
He turned slowly, scanning the jungle. Whatever was out there, it was staying just at the edge of his sensing range. Watching him.
The sun dipped lower, and the first drops of rain began to fall.
Perfect.
Thunder rumbled overhead, low and threatening. The light rain quickly became a steady downpour, then a torrential storm. Within minutes, he was soaked to the skin and shivering.
The things in the jungle - whatever they were - seemed to be getting closer.
He needed shelter, and he needed it now.
There - about a hundred yards to his left, he could sense a break in the jungle. Not a clearing, but some kind of rock formation. Maybe a cave or an overhang where he could wait out the storm.
He ran.
Lightning split the sky as he crashed through the underbrush, his heavy footsteps splashing in the rapidly forming puddles. Branches whipped at his face and arms, but he pushed through, driven by desperation and growing fear.
The rock formation turned out to be a small cliff face with several caves carved into it by centuries of wind and water. He picked the largest one and stumbled inside just as the storm reached its full fury.
The cave was deeper than he'd expected, extending back into darkness. The floor was covered in smooth sand, and the walls showed signs of previous occupants - scratch marks that looked almost like claw marks.
He collapsed against the back wall, breathing heavily. Water dripped from his hair and clothes, forming small puddles on the sandy floor.
Outside, the storm raged. Lightning illuminated the cave mouth in stark flashes of white, followed by crashes of thunder that shook the rock around him.
And in those brief moments of illumination, he saw them.
Eyes.
Dozens of pairs of yellow eyes, watching him from the jungle beyond the cave mouth.
His blood ran cold.
Whatever was out there, it had followed him. And now it was waiting for the storm to pass.
He pressed himself further back into the cave, his heart pounding. In the darkness, with only the sporadic lightning for illumination, his mind began to play tricks on him.
The scratch marks on the walls looked deeper, more recent. The sound of rain on leaves began to sound like whispers. And worst of all, memories that weren't his own began to surface.
Baby Broly, screaming in a laboratory. Scientists in white coats, taking measurements. The constant, piercing cry of another baby in a nearby pod - a cry that never stopped, never gave him peace.
*Kakarot.*
The name surfaced in his mind like a bubble of poison. Along with it came a wave of rage so pure and intense that it took his breath away.
No. Not his rage. Broly's rage.
He pressed his hands against his temples, fighting to keep his own thoughts separate from the memories bleeding through. This wasn't him. He wasn't that crying baby. He wasn't the monster that Broly had become.
But the rage felt so real. So justified. That constant crying, that endless noise that had driven him to madness...
"KAKAROT!"
The scream tore from his throat before he could stop it. It echoed through the cave and out into the storm, a sound of pure animal fury.
And outside, the yellow eyes disappeared.
Whatever had been watching him, his scream had scared it away.
He sat in the sudden silence, shaking. Not from cold anymore, but from the realization of what had just happened.
Broly's memories weren't just surfacing randomly. They were triggered by stress, by fear, by hunger. And when they came, they brought Broly's emotions with them.
This was dangerous. More dangerous than the storm, more dangerous than whatever predators were lurking in the jungle.
If he lost control completely, if Broly's personality took over...
He couldn't let that happen. He wouldn't.
But as thunder crashed overhead and rain continued to pound the earth outside, he realized just how alone he really was. No backup, no support system, no one to help him fight the monster growing inside his own mind.
Just him, a dying body, and the memories of the most dangerous Saiyan who had ever lived.
The storm raged on, and in the darkness of the cave, he began to understand the true scope of the challenge ahead.
Survival wasn't just about finding food and shelter.
It was about keeping his soul intact while living in a monster's body.
Outside, lightning flashed again, and for a moment, he thought he saw movement in the jungle. Not the yellow eyes from before, but something else. Something that looked almost human.
But when the darkness returned, there was nothing there.
Just the storm, the cave, and the growing certainty that his real trials were only beginning.
The rain continued to fall, washing away the last traces of the crater he'd accidentally carved in the tree trunk. By morning, there would be no evidence of what had happened here.
Except for the changes beginning deep inside him - changes that no storm could wash away.
As exhaustion finally overcame fear and hunger, he closed his eyes and tried to sleep.
In his dreams, a baby cried endlessly in the darkness, and somewhere in that sound was the birth of a legend that would shake the universe.
But for now, he was just a man trying to survive his first night in hell.
***
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