The first thing I did was gather everything I knew about the Androids.
Seventeen. Eighteen. Cell.
I had no blueprints. No samples. No data logs. All I had were fragments—stories Trunks told me in my original timeline, descriptions soaked in fear and regret. But even that was enough. Enough to see the direction I needed to go.
I still had five years.
Five years before everything went to hell.
And after what I'd lived through, sitting still was no longer an option.
I started with an exoskeleton.
If raw strength wasn't enough, then I would build something that could be. The next step was obvious—a power source. Something compact, sustainable, and scalable. That was when I turned to ki.
I hired Goku and Krillin as instructors. Officially, anyway.
Goku taught by instinct. He felt his way through everything—watching, copying, adjusting on the fly. It came naturally to him, probably thanks to his Saiyan biology.
Krillin, on the other hand, tried to explain it.
"I mean, it's like… you focus it here," he said once, tapping his chest. "Then you let it flow, but not too much, or it spills over."
"So it's regulated output," I muttered, scribbling notes.
Krillin frowned. "Uh… sure? If that helps?"
It didn't—yet. They both knew how ki worked, but neither could explain it precisely. That was fine. My job was to translate instinct into data.
Months later, I had my first breakthrough.
A ki amplification generator.
Crude. Inefficient. But functional.
I hated the physical training it required. Every muscle screamed, every joint burned. But slacking off wasn't a luxury I could afford—not when Earth's future was on the line.
Once the generator worked, I integrated it into the exoskeleton and sealed the whole system in layered alloy plating. In its dormant state, it looked like nothing more than a standard Capsule Corp unit.
Press the button, though—
—and the armor deployed instantly, wrapping around my body in segmented plates. I looked like a walking machine.
Instead of a standard visor, I used VR projection, feeding combat data directly into my field of vision. I named the system Oracle—after the myth.
Prediction. Probability. Decision.
Oracle scanned opponents, calculated movement paths, and highlighted the most likely outcomes in real time.
The first prototype needed testing.
Goku volunteered immediately.
"Wow, you're completely covered," he said, circling me. "Isn't that armor heavy?"
"It is," I replied honestly. "Without ki."
He grinned. "Okay! Then let's see what it can do!"
When I activated the generator, ki surged through the system. The armor hummed—responsive, light, alive.
"Come at me," I said.
Goku attacked.
Oracle reacted instantly—dozens of projected paths flashing across my vision. He was testing me, choosing the simplest route.
I crossed my arms and blocked his punch.
He followed with a spinning kick aimed at my head. I raised one arm to stop it, then fired a ki blast with the other.
Goku twisted aside effortlessly.
He was on my right now.
A storm of punches and kicks rained down.
Oracle guided me through most of it. I blocked nearly seventy percent of his strikes. The rest slammed into the armor with sharp metallic clangs that echoed across the field.
Ten minutes in, my vision dimmed.
Ki reserves depleted.
I raised my hand. "That's enough."
The armor disengaged, collapsing back into its capsule form.
Goku blinked. "Already?"
"I'm out of fuel," I said, breathing hard. "But that's fine. I got what I needed."
"What's that?" he asked.
I looked down at the capsule in my hand, already replaying the data in my head.
"A future."