Three days had passed since Kenpachi's battle with Goku.
Three days of eating, healing, and listening to Vegeta's increasingly insistent demands for a fight. The Prince of All Saiyans had been practically vibrating with frustrated pride since witnessing the destruction of the Eastern Continent, and his patience—never his strongest virtue—had finally reached its breaking point.
"ENOUGH WAITING!"
Vegeta's voice echoed across the Capsule Corporation training grounds, where Kenpachi had been lounging in the morning sun. The massive Shinigami cracked one eye open to observe the furious Saiyan stalking toward him.
"I have watched you spar with Kakarot. I have seen your power, analyzed your techniques, studied your fighting style." Vegeta stopped directly in front of Kenpachi, fists clenched at his sides. "Now it's MY turn."
Kenpachi yawned. "You sure? The last guy who demanded a fight ended up unconscious for six hours."
"Kakarot is a fool who relies on instinct rather than proper training. I am the Prince of All Saiyans, trained from birth in the art of combat." Vegeta's aura flickered around him, blue energy crackling at the edges. "I will not be denied."
There was something admirable about the Saiyan's determination, Kenpachi had to admit. Despite witnessing a battle that had devastated an entire continent, despite knowing full well that Kenpachi had fought evenly with Goku's divine form, Vegeta showed absolutely no fear.
Only hunger.
He's like me, Kenpachi realized. Pride and power and an endless need to prove himself.
"All right." He rose to his feet, joints popping as he stretched his massive frame. "Let's find somewhere we won't destroy anything important."
Vegeta's grin was sharp enough to cut glass. "Follow me. I know the perfect place."
The Hyperbolic Time Chamber was, according to Vegeta, an alternate dimension where time moved differently—a year inside equaled only a day outside. More importantly for their purposes, it was essentially indestructible and completely isolated from the rest of the world.
"We can fight as hard as we want in here," Vegeta explained as they entered the vast white void. "No collateral damage, no interruptions, no holding back."
Kenpachi looked around at the endless expanse of nothing. "Boring to look at."
"We're not here for the scenery." Vegeta moved to the center of the space, his aura already beginning to build. "We're here to fight."
"Fair enough." Kenpachi drew Nozarashi, her battered form gleaming even in the featureless light. "How do you want to do this?"
"Full power. From the start." Vegeta's eyes blazed with intensity. "I saw your battle with Kakarot. I know you removed your limiter and released that weapon of yours. I want to face that—the real you, not some held-back version."
Kenpachi considered this. The Prince was certainly confident—perhaps overconfident, given what he had witnessed. But there was something refreshing about that confidence, something that reminded Kenpachi of himself.
"Fine." He reached up and removed his eye patch, spiritual pressure immediately flooding the void. "But don't blame me when you end up eating floor."
Vegeta's response was to transform.
Blue light erupted around him, his hair shifting from black to a brilliant azure. His muscles tensed, his aura becoming visible as a corona of divine energy that pressed against Kenpachi's reiatsu like a physical force.
Super Saiyan Blue.
"Impressive," Kenpachi acknowledged. "That's different from what the other one used."
"Super Saiyan Blue—the combination of Super Saiyan power and godly ki." Vegeta's voice resonated with barely contained power. "Kakarot may have achieved Super Saiyan God first, but I have perfected this form. Made it my own."
"Good for you." Kenpachi raised Nozarashi, spiritual pressure continuing to climb. "Drink, Nozarashi."
The transformation was just as spectacular as before—battered blade becoming massive cleaver, power multiplying exponentially as warrior and zanpakuto united. The void itself seemed to flex, the "indestructible" dimension groaning under the weight of their combined energies.
Vegeta's eyes widened fractionally, but his grin never wavered.
"Now THIS is what I wanted!"
He attacked.
Fighting Vegeta was different from fighting Goku.
Where Goku relied on instinct and adaptability, Vegeta fought with calculated precision. Every attack was designed to exploit weaknesses, every defense positioned to create counter-opportunities. His movements were efficient, economical, wasting not a single ounce of energy on unnecessary motion.
And his power...
Super Saiyan Blue was no joke. The divine ki backing Vegeta's attacks gave them a weight that even Kenpachi's enhanced durability struggled to ignore. Each punch that connected sent shockwaves rippling across the void. Each kick carried enough force to shatter planets.
But Kenpachi was having the time of his life.
"HAHAHAHA!" His laughter echoed through the endless white as Nozarashi carved devastating arcs through the air. "You're GOOD! Different from the other one, but just as fun!"
"I am BETTER than Kakarot!" Vegeta roared, ducking under a horizontal slash and driving his fist into Kenpachi's gut. "I have worked harder, trained longer, sacrificed more! And I WILL prove it!"
The impact doubled Kenpachi over, blood spraying from his mouth. But his grin never wavered, and his counter-swing forced Vegeta to retreat.
"That's the spirit!" Kenpachi pressed his advantage, Nozarashi singing with bloodlust. "Show me what a prince can do!"
Outside the Hyperbolic Time Chamber, Goku sat cross-legged on the floor, his eyes closed in concentration.
He could feel them fighting in there—faintly, through the dimensional barrier, but unmistakably. The sheer power being released was making the entrance to the chamber vibrate.
"They're really going at it," he murmured, a grin spreading across his face.
Piccolo stood nearby, arms crossed, expression troubled. "That Kenpachi... he's dangerous, Goku. You know that, right?"
"Dangerous? He's AMAZING!" Goku's eyes snapped open, gleaming with excitement. "I've never met anyone like him before. He just loves fighting so much, you know? No tricks, no schemes, just pure battle."
"That's exactly what concerns me." Piccolo's voice was grave. "A being of that power with no goals beyond combat... what happens when he runs out of worthy opponents here? What happens when he gets bored?"
Goku considered this for a moment, then shrugged. "Then we get stronger so he doesn't get bored. Simple!"
Piccolo sighed. "You're impossible."
"Thanks!"
Inside the chamber, the battle had been raging for what felt like hours.
Vegeta was panting, his Super Saiyan Blue form flickering at the edges. His body was covered in cuts and bruises, his armor shattered, his pride the only thing keeping him on his feet.
Kenpachi wasn't much better. His shihakusho was in tatters, blood streamed from a dozen wounds, and even Nozarashi's glow had dimmed slightly. But his grin remained firmly in place.
"You're tough," he acknowledged, genuine respect in his voice. "Most people would have gone down by now."
"I am... the Prince of All Saiyans," Vegeta gasped, forcing himself upright. "I do not... fall... to anyone!"
"Good." Kenpachi raised Nozarashi for another strike. "Then let's keep going."
They clashed again, the impact sending ripples across the dimensional void. Vegeta's technique against Kenpachi's raw power, pride against bloodlust, determination against the pure joy of combat.
And slowly, inevitably, Kenpachi began to pull ahead.
It wasn't that Vegeta was weak—far from it. Super Saiyan Blue was an incredible form, and the prince wielded it with a mastery that spoke of endless hours of training. But Kenpachi's growth rate was simply inhuman. Every minute that passed, he got a little faster, a little stronger, a little more attuned to Vegeta's patterns.
A devastating overhead strike shattered Vegeta's guard, sending the prince crashing into the void's white floor. He struggled to rise, arms shaking, divine aura sputtering.
"Damn... damn it..."
Kenpachi loomed over him, Nozarashi raised for a finishing blow.
Then he stopped.
"You're done," he said, lowering his weapon. "Good fight, though. Better than most."
Vegeta's pride burned at the dismissal, but his body refused to obey his commands. He was spent, pushed beyond his limits by an opponent who seemed to have no limits at all.
"How..." he managed, his voice barely above a whisper. "How are you so strong? You have no divine ki, no transformations like ours... what ARE you?"
Kenpachi considered the question as he let Nozarashi revert to her sealed state.
"Just a guy who likes to fight," he said finally. "Nothing more, nothing less."
They exited the Hyperbolic Time Chamber to find a small crowd waiting for them.
Goku was practically bouncing with excitement. Piccolo watched with calculating eyes. Gohan, Krillin, and several others had gathered, drawn by the commotion of their earlier departure.
"How'd it go?!" Goku demanded. "Who won?! Did you guys have fun?!"
"He won," Vegeta admitted through gritted teeth, each word clearly costing him dearly. "This time."
"Wow!" Goku's eyes widened. "Vegeta actually admitted losing! That's a first!"
"Shut UP, Kakarot!"
Kenpachi ignored the bickering Saiyans, his attention drawn to something else. During the fight with Vegeta, something had been nagging at him—a sense of incompleteness, of potential left untapped.
And now, standing among these warriors who pushed themselves to impossible heights, he found himself thinking about it.
About the truth he hadn't told them.
"Hey." His voice cut through the noise, drawing everyone's attention. "I need to tell you something."
Goku blinked. "What's up?"
Kenpachi met his gaze steadily. "That fight we had. When I released Nozarashi and went all out."
"Yeah?"
"I lied."
Silence fell over the group.
"What do you mean, you lied?" Piccolo asked, his voice sharp with suspicion.
Kenpachi rested his hand on Nozarashi's hilt, feeling her pulse beneath his fingers. "Nozarashi has two forms. What I showed you—the big cleaver thing—that's just the first one. Shikai, we call it."
"Wait, wait, wait." Goku held up his hands. "You're saying that massive power-up was only your FIRST release?"
"Yep."
"And there's a SECOND one?!"
"Yep."
The silence that followed was deafening.
Vegeta, despite his exhaustion, had gone pale. "You mean to tell me... that even using your released weapon... you were still holding back?"
"I wouldn't say holding back, exactly." Kenpachi scratched his chin thoughtfully. "More like... not using everything I have. The second release—Bankai, it's called—isn't something I can control well. Only used it once before, and things got... messy."
"Messy how?" Piccolo demanded.
Kenpachi's grin turned sharp. "I stopped being able to tell friend from enemy. Just saw things that needed cutting and cut them."
Another silence, this one decidedly more uncomfortable.
"But," Goku said slowly, his expression shifting from shock to something else entirely, "you CAN use it? If you wanted to?"
"Technically."
"Can we see it?"
The question hung in the air like a challenge.
Kenpachi met Goku's eyes and saw the same thing he felt in his own heart—not fear, not concern, but pure, undiluted curiosity. The desire to see power, to understand it, to eventually overcome it.
Kindred spirits, he thought. In any universe.
"You sure about that?" he asked. "It's not going to be pleasant."
"I can take it," Goku said firmly.
Vegeta, despite barely being able to stand, nodded in agreement. "Show us."
Piccolo, Gohan, Krillin, and the others exchanged uncertain glances but didn't object.
Kenpachi shrugged. "Your funeral. But I'll only do it for a second. Any longer and I might not be able to stop myself from attacking."
He drew Nozarashi.
The battered blade gleamed in the afternoon light, and everyone present felt the familiar surge of spiritual pressure as he removed his eye patch.
"Drink, Nozarashi."
The Shikai transformation was impressive as always—battered sword becoming massive cleaver, power multiplying exponentially. The assembled fighters braced themselves against the pressure, some better than others.
But this time, Kenpachi didn't stop there.
He took a deep breath.
Closed his eyes.
And spoke a word that seemed to resonate through reality itself.
"Bankai."
The world ended.
Or at least, that's what it felt like.
Power—raw, unfiltered, absolutely monstrous power—exploded outward from Kenpachi's form. It wasn't just spiritual pressure anymore; it was something primal, something that predated concepts like "strength" or "energy." It was the essence of battle itself, given form and will and hunger.
Every single person present dropped to their knees.
Not from choice—their bodies simply refused to remain standing. The weight of Kenpachi's Bankai pressed down on them like the gravity of a collapsing star, forcing them to the ground with irresistible force.
Goku, even with his divine power, found himself struggling to simply breathe. His lungs refused to expand properly, his muscles locked in involuntary paralysis. Through sheer force of will, he managed to raise his head, to look at what Kenpachi had become.
And he saw a monster.
Kenpachi's body had changed. His skin had taken on a deep red hue, almost like dried blood. Strange markings covered his face—war paint or ritual scarring, impossible to tell. His hair had become wilder, more savage, standing on end like the mane of a great beast.
But it was his eyes that truly terrified.
They were empty.
Not blank, not unfocused—empty, like looking into the eyes of a predator that saw everything as either prey or obstacles. There was no recognition in that gaze, no humanity, no restraint.
Just hunger.
Nozarashi had changed too. The massive cleaver had become something simpler, more brutal—a broken blade that looked like it had been snapped in half, its edge jagged and cruel. It looked wrong, like a weapon that should not exist, that defied the very concept of a sword.
And the power...
The power was beyond anything any of them had ever felt.
Beyond Super Saiyan Blue. Beyond Super Saiyan God. Beyond anything mortal or divine. It was power on a scale that made Beerus's casual displays look like parlor tricks.
Vegeta, his face pressed to the ground by sheer pressure, felt something he rarely felt.
Fear.
Pure, primal, absolute terror at the presence of something that existed beyond his ability to challenge.
And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped.
Kenpachi's Bankai faded, his form reverting to normal with a speed that suggested enormous effort. He stood there, breathing hard, Nozarashi sealed and battered in his grip.
Around him, the others slowly struggled to their feet. Goku was the first to recover, though his legs were shaking and his face was pale.
"That..." the Saiyan managed, his voice hoarse. "That was..."
"Bankai," Kenpachi finished. "Now you see why I don't use it much."
"I couldn't... I couldn't even move." Vegeta's voice was barely above a whisper, and there was something broken in his expression—not his body or his spirit, but his understanding of power itself. "That pressure... it was like facing a god. No—worse than a god."
"It's hard to control," Kenpachi admitted. "When I'm in that state, all I want to do is cut things. Doesn't matter what. Doesn't matter who. Everything looks like an enemy."
He sheathed Nozarashi and replaced his eye patch, the weight of his reiatsu dropping dramatically.
"That's why I only used it for a second. Any longer and I might have started swinging at you guys."
Piccolo, still on one knee, looked up at Kenpachi with an expression of profound unease. "That power... it's not like anything I've ever sensed. It felt like facing the embodiment of death itself."
"Close," Kenpachi said. "It's the embodiment of battle. Everything I am—my will, my instincts, my love of fighting—compressed into pure power. When I release it, I become something beyond a Shinigami. Beyond a warrior."
"What do you become?" Gohan asked, finally finding his voice.
Kenpachi's grin returned, but there was something different about it now—something almost... wistful.
"A monster."
The aftermath of the demonstration was subdued.
The fighters who had witnessed Kenpachi's Bankai were quiet, each processing what they had felt in their own way. Even Goku, usually irrepressible, seemed contemplative.
They had gathered in Capsule Corporation's main living area, Bulma having provided food and drinks that no one was really touching.
"So," Krillin finally said, breaking the silence, "that Bankai thing... is that your absolute limit? Or is there even MORE we don't know about?"
Kenpachi considered the question. "Hard to say. I've only used it once before, and I wasn't exactly in a state to analyze my own power levels. But..." He trailed off, something flickering in his expression.
"But?" Goku prompted.
"During my fight with Beerus, even in Shikai, I felt like there was more. Like I was on the edge of something bigger." Kenpachi shook his head. "Might just be battle instincts talking. Or it might be real potential I haven't tapped yet."
"The idea of you having MORE power is genuinely terrifying," Piccolo observed dryly.
"Good."
Vegeta, who had been silent since the demonstration, suddenly stood. His body had recovered somewhat, though exhaustion still lined his features.
"This changes nothing," he declared, his voice firm. "You're strong. Stronger than me, currently. But Saiyans grow stronger through battle and hardship. And now I have a new goal to strive for."
"Oh yeah?" Kenpachi met his gaze with mild interest.
"I'm going to surpass that Bankai of yours." Vegeta's fists clenched at his sides. "I don't care how long it takes or how hard I have to train. I WILL stand against that power and I WILL overcome it."
Kenpachi stared at him for a long moment.
Then he started laughing.
Not mockery—genuine, delighted laughter that made his massive frame shake. "That's what I like to hear! Most people who feel that kind of power just give up. But you want to challenge it?"
"I am the Prince of All Saiyans," Vegeta said simply. "I challenge EVERYTHING."
"Good." Kenpachi's grin was wide and sharp. "I'll be waiting."
Later that evening, Kenpachi found himself on the roof again, staring up at alien stars.
The day had been... interesting. Fighting Vegeta, revealing his Bankai, seeing the reactions of warriors who considered themselves among the strongest in the universe. It had given him a lot to think about.
Not that he was much for thinking. But some things demanded contemplation.
The Bankai, he mused. Every time I use it, I feel like I'm getting closer to losing myself entirely. But it's also where my real power is. If I want to face the strongest opponents, I need to master it.
It was a problem without an easy solution. His Bankai was, by its very nature, antithetical to control. It was raw, primal power—the essence of his will to fight given form. Trying to control it was like trying to tame a hurricane.
But the alternative was never using it, which meant never reaching his true potential.
There has to be a way, he thought. Some method of keeping my mind intact while accessing that power.
"Deep thoughts?"
Goku landed beside him, having apparently made a habit of finding him during these nighttime musings.
"Something like that." Kenpachi didn't bother explaining further.
"I've been thinking about what you showed us today." Goku sat down, legs dangling over the roof's edge. "That Bankai of yours... it was scary. Really, genuinely scary."
"That's the idea."
"But you know what?" Goku turned to look at him, and his eyes were shining with that familiar, impossible excitement. "It also made me want to fight it even more."
Kenpachi met his gaze. "You're insane."
"Probably!" Goku laughed. "But here's the thing—I've faced scary power before. Frieza, Cell, Buu, Beerus... every time, I thought 'this is impossible, there's no way I can win.' And every time, I found a way to push through."
"So you think you can overcome my Bankai?"
"Eventually? Yeah." There was no arrogance in Goku's voice, just simple certainty. "Maybe not now. Maybe not for a long time. But someday, I'm going to stand in front of that power and I'm going to match it."
"And if you can't?"
"Then I'll die trying." Goku shrugged like he was discussing the weather. "But at least it'll be one hell of a fight."
Kenpachi stared at him for a long moment.
Then he started laughing again—that genuine, delighted sound that had nothing to do with battle and everything to do with finding something rare and precious.
"You know what, Goku? I really like you."
"Thanks! I like you too!" The Saiyan's grin was infectious. "So, about that training we talked about..."
"Tomorrow." Kenpachi lay back, resting his head on his folded arms. "I'm going to figure out how to control my Bankai. And when I do, you and Vegeta are going to be my test subjects."
"Sounds perfect!"
They sat in companionable silence for a while, two warriors from completely different worlds, united by their love of battle and their endless hunger for growth.
Finally, Goku spoke again.
"Hey, Kenpachi?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks for coming here. Wherever you came from, whatever brought you to this universe... I'm glad it happened." Goku's voice was uncharacteristically serious. "You've given us all something new to strive for. A new mountain to climb."
Kenpachi considered this.
In his old life—the life of the dying man in the hospital bed—he had never mattered. Never made a difference, never left a mark on the world. He had simply existed, and then he had stopped existing.
But here...
Here, he was making an impact. Challenging warriors, pushing limits, giving people like Goku and Vegeta new goals to pursue. He was, in his own violent way, helping them grow.
It was a strange feeling.
Not unpleasant, though.
"Don't mention it," he said finally. "Just keep getting stronger. I need opponents who can actually challenge me."
Goku laughed. "Deal!"
The next morning, Kenpachi began his training in earnest.
Not physical training—his body grew stronger through combat, and no amount of push-ups or meditation would change that. What he needed was something else.
Control.
He found a secluded area far from Capsule Corporation, a desolate wasteland where his experiments wouldn't endanger anyone. And there, alone with Nozarashi, he began the process of trying to master his Bankai.
The first attempt went poorly.
He activated the transformation and immediately lost himself, spending several seconds in a berserk state before managing to force the power back down. The landscape around him was scarred with unconscious destruction—gouges in the earth, shattered rock formations, the evidence of attacks he didn't remember making.
Too much, he thought, panting with exertion. Need to go slower.
The second attempt was marginally better. He managed to maintain awareness for almost ten seconds before the bloodlust overwhelmed him. Progress, but nowhere near enough.
The third attempt. The fourth. The fifth.
Each time, he pushed a little further, held on a little longer, learned a little more about the nature of his own power. It was grueling work, the kind of training he had never bothered with before—mental discipline rather than physical combat.
But he persisted.
Because somewhere out there, warriors like Goku and Vegeta were training to overcome him. Somewhere, beings like Beerus existed, gods whose power dwarfed his current capabilities. And somewhere, challenges awaited that would require everything he had and more.
He would be ready.
By the time the sun set on the wasteland, Kenpachi had made small but measurable progress. He could maintain his Bankai for nearly thirty seconds now while retaining basic awareness. Not enough to fight effectively, but a foundation to build on.
Tomorrow, he told himself, I'll push further.
And the day after that. And the day after that.
For as long as it took.
Because that's what warriors did.
They grew.
End of Chapter 3