Going Native: Touch of Change (ch. 34) (Patreon)

Things were changing again, Matillo thought as he watched over the hundred children as they struggled to understand the teachings that Prince Tarble was trying to impart. Oh, they learned the techniques easily enough, especially Kakarot, who was rapidly becoming the envy of the class, but only a few seemed to understand what exactly Prince Tarble was trying to teach them. 

Teamwork. Such a foreign concept for the saiyan race. As far as Matillo was aware, only three saiyans had ever managed to learn the value of it -- King Vegeta the First, Bardock and now Tarble was added to that shortlist. Bardock might be a snot-nosed brat with delusions of grandeur, but he was a legend in his own right. And King Vegeta the First went without saying. 

Matillo let out a soft sigh, glad for his old bones to be back underneath proper gravity, rather than that weak garbage other planets offered. His bones ached under the pressure for a time before they remembered how to handle it -- it seemed that he had grown soft in a way, despite his slow increase in power. Matillo had never learned his power level before he left his prime, but he liked to think he was nearing the strength he had in his heyday. 

His attention was drawn to Olaive, who glared at Kakarot in a way that lacked any real heat. He waited for that moment, wishing that he could push them in the direction that Prince Tarble wanted them to go in, but this was something that they had to learn on their own at their own pace. Matillo saw her face twist up, warring with herself. 

He understood it. Matillo had struggled with it when King Vegeta the First had tried to impart the same lesson onto him when the Truffles had ruled this planet. It wouldn’t be wrong to say it was against their nature, even back then. Now...now Matillo was forced to wonder if it was possible at all. 

Matillo clenched his hands into fists, ever muscle going taunt, waiting for her to come to a decision. Olaive’s face twisted like she ate something sour as she watched Kakarot form perform the technique -- the Medicine Ball. It was a complicated technique, but the trick was in the intensity of the purple light rays that made it work. They didn’t need to study for years to complete it, and it was a true shame that they would never understand the effort Prince Tarble put into creating that technique that he so freely gave away. 

Olaive’s shoulder slumped in defeat before her feet carried her toward Kakarot, who rubbed his success in the face of his peers. It was detrimental but understandable. Kakarot was weak in the world of the strong -- Matilo couldn’t imagine that he had many chances to prove himself superior to his peers. 

“Oi, idiot,” Olaive spoke, biting the words out. “Show me how you do that so easily,” she demanded, making Kakarot’s face twist. Matillo tried to pretend he wasn’t eagerly watching the interaction -- this was the moment. Olaive took the first step, and now it was Kakarot’s turn to meet her halfway. 

For a long moment, it seemed like Kakarot wouldn’t. He glared back at her, his expression sullen, but then he nodded. “Only if you let me go hunting with you the next time you guys go,” he bartered. “And I want the biggest piece.”

Olaive tsked to herself, but she nodded all the same. A simple interaction, but an important one. Those that looked at Olaive or Kakarot noticed the exchange as Kakarot began to offer advice. Then they looked at others, both who had success and those that didn’t. 

Matillo sighed in contentment. “Things are changing again,” he said, speaking his earlier thought aloud as he gazed upward at the sky above, the planet in the system dominating the skyline.

He was old. Over a thousand years old. Matillo watched his people go from warring tribes to a united front against the Truffles. There had been so much hope when they had conquered them, claiming Planet Plant as their own and renaming it Planet Vegeta. They learned the Truffles technology, adapting to it, then turned their gazes to the stars above. 

They found a weak species hardly fit for eating, but they offered goods in exchange for a planet better suited for them. It was only because of King Vegeta the First that they accepted at all -- they had no use for wealth beyond decoration, but their first king said that they should. Most had thought that would be the birth of the saiyan empire...and it so nearly was. 

But most didn’t know King Vegeta as Matillo had. It wasn’t the desire for glory that motivated him but the desire for knowledge. Even back then, he had understood that the saiyan race was not peerless in the universe. Something that was made all too apparent when King Cold had arrived on their planet and demanded their surrender. A simple case of bad luck -- King Cold himself was in the area when news reached him of the exchange. 

Since then, the Saiyan race had changed. The united tribes were gone, vanished entirely. Each warrior fought for themselves and their own glory, nothing else. Mothers cared nothing for their children or any children at all. Three hundred years passed by so very quickly, but the saiyan race was nearly unrecognizable compared to what it was. 

And, to his shame, he had done nothing. Matillo hadn’t realized it for over three hundred years, but he might as well have been standing still for those centuries. He was stuck, unable to move on from the death of his friend and king. He simply went through the motions of being a warrior -- and barely one at that. Matillo couldn’t recall one notably powerful opponent he fought in this century. 

Matillo sighed, taking in a deep breath as he could feel life being breathed back into the saiyan race and himself. Things were changing. Much like they had with King Vegeta the First, and it was fitting that his descendent was doing the same-

“Oi, old guy,” one of the children shouted at him, kicking his shin to get his attention. Matillo looked down to see it was a child with hair sticking straight up. He recognized the hairstyle, even after centuries. A descendant of his old rival. "Is Prince Tarble really Prince Tarble?" The child asked as if that question made any amount of sense. Then he recalled that show Elery seemed to enjoy so much. 

"What makes you doubt that he is?" Matillo questioned, looking down at the small group of children. 

"Prince Tarble wears a mask and has a cape," the lead child stated as if that was all the evidence he needed. "And that little girl keeps saying that he just likes to pretend that he's Prince Tarble, and he makes you all go along with it because he's stronger than you." 

Matillo smiled, "then can you really trust anything I say? I could be lying," Matillo pointed out, making the children's eyes widen in shock, clearly having never considered it. 

"See? See? I told you!" Elery shouted, puffing her chest out with pride. She flew over, choosing to clean to his shoulder as if he were a stead and pointed down at the group of children. "My brother isn’t the prince Tarble. They just have the same name." Matillo swallowed a laugh as the group of children nodded along -- some appeared more doubtful than others, but they seemed convinced. 

For now at least. Matillo doubted that notion would continue once they saw the prince fight. In their history, Prince Tarble and Prince Vegeta fought for the strongest Saiyan there had ever been and each time they one-upped each other, that ceiling grew higher. It was a sobering thought given that both boys were years away from seeing their final growth spurt. 

"Whatcha thinking about Old Man?" Elery asked as Matillo turned his attention back to the children. Matillo didn't comment on the nickname of him -- for one, it wasn't exactly untrue, and it would be a lie to say that he didn't like it a little bit. 

"How your brother reminds me of King Vegeta the First," Matillo admitted. 

"Hm. Whose that?" Elery asked, making Matillo go still before he recalled that Elery never received an education in a tank. "And why is he like my brother- wait, that's that guy my brother was going to talk to the other day! Or that other Vegeta." 

"No. King Vegeta the First was the first King Vegeta. He had a son, also named Vegeta, just as he named his son Vegeta and the current King Vegeta named his eldest Vegeta, which makes him Vegeta the Fourth." Matillo explained, glancing at Elery, who looked like she was trying to wrap her head around it. 

"That's a lot of Vegetas," she decided after a moment. "But what's the first one got to do with my brother?" 

Matillo chuckled at her easy dismissal as he continued to watch the next generation of saiyans learn. And struggle. And, in time, they would grow, mate and the next generation would be born. Their path forever changed due to the actions of a small boy. 

"I was thinking how alike but different they are," Matillo stated. "Your brother is very reserved and stoic, but King Vegeta the First was rather loud. And dramatic." Enough so that his signature cape flair was deemed important enough that four generations learned it. “They...probably couldn’t be more different in personality, but they remain very similar in action.”

There were moments where it felt like he was back at the head of his tribe and one of the women brought in Vegeta for the first time. Matillo hadn’t thought anything of him for a long time, but King Vegeta the First made it a habit of surprising people. 

“Hm,” Elery grunted, not interested in the ramblings of an old man, unlike her brother. “Where is my brother anyway? I still want him to teach me the Spiral Buster,” Elery stated in a hungry tone. It seemed that not only she, but nearly every child of this generation was rather taken with that technique. And if enough of them asked, then it would only be a matter of time before Prince Tarble taught them it. 

Matillo didn’t quite agree with the idea of so freely sharing techniques, but things had changed already. The tribes of yesteryear were gone, and it was he that had to adapt to the current reality. As he considered the question, his gaze drifted towards the direction that Prince Tarble was. Far off in the distance, his scouter picked up two power levels that would have been inconceivable only a handful of years ago. 

180,000 and 240,000. 

“Your brother is sparring with Prince Vegeta,” Matillo answered as his gaze drifted back to the group of children. Some were making more progress than others while some were forced to practice the ki blades from yesterday. They were all taking the training seriously because all of them wanted to learn the Wrath State, but they needed more than a treat at the end of a stick to lead them where Prince Tarble wanted them to go. They needed a push in the direction as well. 

“We should go see him,” Matillo decided, looking at the few others that were tasked with wrangling the children to make sure they stayed on task. Fasha was making an effort to teach while Gine was having far more success. Matillo thought she was far too soft-hearted to be called a warrior, and it could prove disastrous on the battlefield, but he kept such thoughts to himself. By now, Prince Tarble had more than earned his trust. 

Gine seemed to notice his gaze, meeting it steadily but questioningly. At the very least, she had a spine, even if her heart was too soft. 

“We are going to watch the princes’ spar. The children should see who will be leading them into battle,” Matillo decided for them. Luckily, Queen Teach wasn’t here to overrule the decision. Prince Tarble had given her another task -- a vague excuse to separate her from the children. A saiyan mother’s instincts to adopt children were strong and never before had there been so many of them. 

“Really?! Awesome!” Eley cheered, flying upward. The other children glanced at him, excitement dancing in their eyes. 

“They’re really going at it. Are you sure that they won’t kill us by mistake?” Fasha commented, earning a lingering glance from Matillo. He could hear what she really meant -- that Prince Vegeta would attempt to kill them with a stray blast. By now, it was no secret about the animosity between the royal family and what was once Bardock’s team. Matillo had suspicions at what caused it, but he held his tongue until he was certain. 

“I doubt Prince Tarble would allow anything like that to happen,” Matillo returned. Fasha considered it, glancing at Gine, who looked between them questioningly before giving a hesitant nod. 

A small smile tugged at Gine’s lips as she turned her gaze to the children who increasingly grew excited at the prospect while arguments of if Prince Tarble was the real Prince Tarble grew more heated. “I think it would be a good idea to see if Prince Tarble is really as strong as the shows make him out to be,” Gine said, speaking softly to the children than to either of them. Fasha sighed before she nodded, agreeing. 

With that, all of them drifted upwards before they blasted off towards where the princes were sparring. A vast desert that claimed a large portion of a continent. The children grouped up -- sticking to the teams that Prince Tarble had placed them in. Part of their training was to fly together in teams, so this would be good practice, Matillo decided. 

The only one that didn’t was Elery, who chose to cling onto his back. They were greatly slowed down by the speed of the children, but it was necessary. A great many predators inhabited the sky, with this so-called Sky King the strongest among them, but there were plenty of others that were more than a challenge for the children. They would be expected to survive on their own strength soon enough, but for now, they had to be protected. 

Every saiyan is born weak at the start. There was no better example than Prince Tarble. 

However, soon enough, they reached the edge of the great desert that served as a training ground for the princes. His scouter said that they were a considerable distance away, but he saw evidence of their latest bout already. Dunes collapsed into nothing, holes that slowly filled up as sand trickled down and glass where the discharged lightning from a Galick Gun. 

He slowed, peering off into the distance to see flashes of light from two techniques. Matillo sent a quick message to Prince Tarble, alerting him of their presence, but he didn't need to. Prince Tarble seemed to have an uncanny ability to notice people without using his scouter -- undoubtedly an ability that he chose not to share. Yet, at any rate. Matillo was glad for it -- it would be one of the greatest tragedies if Prince Tarble gave a rival the techniques to best him because he was too generous. 

Matillo didn't receive a reply, but they continued forward anyway. Until they stood at the very edge of the battle waged between the princes. Matillo grinned as the children lined up to watch, and he heard Elery gasp in his ear. 

"Bear witness to the power of the royal family," he spoke, his words nearly lost in a wave of wind that blasted through a sand dune. 

Perhaps King Vegeta's flair for the dramatics had rubbed off on him.

… 

There was a critical difference between Vegeta and I. It wasn't our power levels, or how we fought. It's what we were. I had to crawl my way up from the bottom over the course of my life, whereas Vegeta had been born at the top. 

The others had teased that I was a freak of nature, but Vegeta was more so than me. Because, unlike me, he was a natural prodigy that came once in a lifetime. 

"You mastered the Wrath State," I realized as we clashed above a sand dune, blasting is apart from the force of our blows. Vegeta smirked, his eyes blazing yellow, visible because I broke his scouter earlier, as his fists flew. I blocked them, diverting them when I could, and waited for an opening. My blood hummed in my veins -- after so many years of fighting scarabs, fighting a powerful opponent that wasn’t a scarab was enough to get my heart thumping. 

“Of course I did,” Vegeta stated easily, ducking under a kick to my head, only to block another foot that rushed to his face with his forearm. “I’m not like the other trash you’re used to fighting beside,” Vegeta scoffed as he lashed out with a fist, that I caught, diverting it away from my body as I tried to slam a knee into his face. 

The Wrath State was something I had given a lot of thought about the past couple of days as we neared the deadline I had established. In the end, my thoughts on how I was going to keep this Broly fellow hidden led me to how I could put safety breaks into the Wrath State. I had attempted to explain to the others how to separate themselves from the rage and pain but they didn’t have any luck with it. 

And, even now, I doubted that Vegeta had managed the same feat. What I went through when I was in the tank was simply too unique for others to replicate. 

However, what it meant was that Vegeta had mastered the Wrath State by crushing the pain and the rage, to remain in control with sheer force of will. 

A fierce grin tugged at my lips as I threw myself into the fight. I darted forward, jabbing at him, only for him to divert the attack and following it up with an elbow aimed at my eye. I caught it with my forehead instead, aiming to bury a fist in his gut, only for his other hand to stop my attack cold. Blood dripped down from my forehead, but so long as it didn’t get into my eyes, then I didn’t care. 

I broke off, ki flooding towards my hands as I became aware of Matillo’s presence some distance away. Along with Fasha, Elery and the other kids. A message made itself known, but I didn’t read it in favor of powering up a Kamehameha. Vegeta did the same, however dark purple arcs of electricity escaped his palms as he prepared a Galick Gun. 

Gritting my teeth, I put my all into it and launched it at my brother Just as he did me. Our attacks clashed in the air, a mighty explosion blasting away the light sand as both of us struggled to overcome the other. I poured everything that I had into it, but it was no use. Vegeta was simply stronger than me, so overpowering him wasn’t an option. 

Instead, I rushed forward, near where the attacks clashed -- Vegeta must have noticed something was going on because he poured even more power into the attack. In response, I abandoned mine as I spun out of the way, the Galick Gun sailing by me. I saw Vegeta’s eyes widen a moment before I was upon him, planting a fist into his stomach. 

He countered by punching me in the face, but I accepted the teeth-rattling blow, pulling to the side just fast enough to avoid the full force of it. As I did so, I spun sharply, lashing out with a foot that caught him in the face, flattening his nose. 

Despite the blood that flowed from his nose, Vegeta smiled viciously. From there, the fight only grew more intense. 

We clashed, mindful of our watchers, but we held nothing back. Vegeta was stronger than me, and he leveraged his strength well. I was better at leveraging mine and I had more than a few tricks up my sleeve. Even still, the fight was close and I wasn’t able to rely on waiting for the timer to run out like I had previously counted on. 

I blocked a hit from Vegeta, grunting as his fist slammed into my forearm that sent me flying. I sailed backward, slamming through a sand dune hard enough that it felt like it was solid. As sand obscured me for a moment, I left behind a ball of ki. And, as Vegeta rushed to press the advantage, I detonated it with a thought. 

Sand exploded outward, obscuring Vegeta for a moment but that didn’t matter for me. Pushing my hands at my side, lightning cackled to my side as I flooded ki into my palm. It was quick and fast, but that’s how a Galick Gun did its best work, I’m learning. Blue lightning arcked out, slamming into the sand dunes around me, turning wherever they touched into glass. Gritting my teeth, I launched the technique at Vegeta in the split second that he was obscured. 

The technique slammed into him, knocking him back. I felt his presence waver for a moment, telling me that I had managed to do damage. Only for it to be my turn to be surprised. Vegeta’s presence grew stronger, jumping strength as my Galick Gun was pushed to a halt before it was knocked to the side. I barely paid any mind to the following explosion, only that it didn’t come anywhere close to where everyone was. 

Vegeta blasted back the lingering sand and dust in the air, revealing himself. His body was coated in an aura of green, his body already showing signs of growing while veins bulged in his neck and forehead. He looked down at me, his expression one of triumph and I realized that there was good reason for it. I didn’t need the scouter to do the math. 

360,000. Over a quarter of a million. 

“You figured out the second stage of the Wrath State,” I said, bracing myself for what came next. Vegeta answered by flexing his power, it washed over me like a wave as the air stirred.

“From the sound of it, you discovered it first,” Vegeta said, a barely repressed scream in his voice but he kept himself in check. He took his stance -- one hand out while the other was held out in front of him. Perfect for quick switches between offense and defense. I noticed he sounded faintly disappointed. 

I grinned as I took in a deep breath and pulled from the well of power that was the oozaru and pushed it past its limits. My hair drifted upwards, an aura of green coating my body as my bones ached under the strain. Even after two years, using the second stage felt absolutely hellish and I could feel my body cracking under the strain already. 

“I did. Back on Rench. I just can’t use it very well because of my body,” I bit out, my lips curling back into a wide smile that my brother matched. It was hard to tell, but Vegeta did seem like he had an easier time with the second stage, which gave me hope that I would be able to use it once I had my first growth spurt. I could only hope that I got mine early as Vegeta did. 

“Then we should end this quickly,” Vegeta decided. 

And then we clashed above the desert and it was as if the planet itself shook.

I wasn’t going to be able to overpower him. It couldn’t be done before, and it was flat out impossible now. I had to pull out every trick up my sleeve. 

Ki blades formed around my hands as I sent a slash at him, which he dodged out of the way as he rapidly closed the distance between us. I blocked a jab that he launched at my face, catching it with my forearm. It didn’t snap under the blow, which was a promising sign, but as I blocked it, I grabbed hold of the ki slash that I had sent and started angling it to the right. 

My ki control grew in leaps thanks to Matillo’s training and advice, but it looked like my complete control over a sent out attack was a pipedream. Once it was shot, it was next to impossible to control how I wanted it to, but, at the very least, I could angle it a little bit one way or the other. 

All the while, I built up a ki breath attack in my mouth, lashing out at Vegeta with a flurry of swipes that he dodged and blocked with ease. His smile grew as he seized an opening, planting a fist in my gut, and I took that moment to unleash the ki breath attack into his face. It slammed into Vegeta’s face like a brick, knowing him back. I used the opportunity to dodge to the side when he lashed out, the smile falling to be replaced with a snarl. 

I had a head start, but Vegeta was simply faster than me, so he closed it in no time. I let the ki blades fade into nothing, still guiding that attack as I led us to it. However, since my attention was split, I found a fist buried in my gut. I folded around the fist, grunt in pain, but refusing to let go of the ki slash. Even when Vegeta raised his hands and brought them down onto my back and sent me flying into the ground. 

Vegeta sent me flying through a sand dune before I found myself buried underneath, shooting beneath the surface as if it were water. Holding my breath gathered my ki and sent the ki slash towards Vegeta. It slammed into his back, distracting him, but not much else. He’d be pissed at me for pulling my punches, but I’d rather he be pissed than bisecting him on accident. 

Even still, that gave me a fraction of a second. With a Hellzone Grenade prepped, I flexed my power and sent the mountain of sand that covered me flying outward. As the sand and dust bloomed, I used the cover to send hundreds of balls of ki upward, punching through the cloud -- each one was large enough that they would be able to hurt Vegeta, if only a little. 

“You...can sense me?” Vegeta questioned, eyeing the attacks that allowed me to take control of the skies. Now I controlled the battleground and the past two years leading the 501st taught me how valuable that was. “And you can manipulate your attacks after you send them.” The last one was a statement of fact. 

“Do you want me to teach you?” I asked, ki gathering in my hands. Vegeta scoffed at my offer as he did the same. 

“As if,” Vegeta dismissed as lightning gathered in his palms as it did mine. We gathered our ki, pushing out control to its absolute max. However, Vegeta’s control was far less fine than mine, even in this form. His dark purple Galick Gun launched at me and in that moment, I sent every ki blast that hovered above in the way.

For a moment, the world was nothing by light and noise. Only for the noise to become a high pitched ringing as my eardrums gave out as heat washed over me. The only thing that I was aware of was that I was still alive, and so was Vegeta. My attacks had detonated his attack prematurely, buying me a few seconds to continuously gather my ki-

Vegeta moved, darting down through the explosion and my eyes barely had a moment to widen before he emerged directly in front of me. I reacted instantly, throwing out my hands to launch the attack but- but, at this distance, it could kill him. Instead, I aimed it at the ground the same moment his fist collided with my face. 

I didn’t lose consciousness, but it was a near thing. The only thing that prevented me from blacking out as an explosion racked the planet from a full-powered Galick Gun was the certainty that if I didn’t keep up the second stage of the Wrath State, then I would die. I accepted the pain, heat washing over me as I was thrown in some direction, only able to orientate myself by the reassuring presence that I felt. Vegeta was still alive too, and so were the others that watched the fight. 

When things settled down, I found myself half-buried in sand, face down so more than a little was filling my mouth. “Hnn...ugh…!” I groaned, pulling myself out of the sand, spitting it out as I shook my head to displace whatever was resting on me. A lot of it stuck to me because of sweat and blood, but other than a few injuries, I was mostly fine. Nothing that a Medicine Ball couldn’t fix at any rate. 

“You held back,” Vegeta accused, having recovered first. He looked a little roughed up, more than me at any rate since I had managed to land a few more attacks than him. 

“The only way I could have beat you was to kill you, and I’m not going to do that,” I answered. Vegeta scowled at that, glaring hard at me, but he stopped himself when he let out a huff. I felt like I should say something, but I was unsure of what. I took too long and the moment passed. Instead, I formed a Medicine Ball and tossed it overhead so it could heal both of us. All the while, I glanced around us to survey the damage. 

It was difficult to tell with just how much sand and dust was in the air, but we stood at the edge of a massive crater that was slowly filling up with sand. I looked at it for a moment, mulling something over before I let the Medicine Ball fade away once our wounds were done healing. Then I performed a self-scan.

19,080. Over a thousand point jump from a spar. It had taken me months of fighting saibamen to earn half that same amount. 

“Vegeta...you figured it out too, haven’t you?” I asked, looking at my brother. His scowl lessened as he glanced my way, his gaze lingering on my scouter before he gave a slow nod.

“I noticed it during the past couple of years. My largest jumps in power only came when I was heavily injured from fighting a powerful opponent. That, and the stronger I become, the larger the jumps in power become,” Vegeta answered, confirming what I had noticed. There was no way that I couldn’t notice after I had crawled my way up from the lowest of the low-class. Nor how I watched my team’s power levels steadily climb upward. 

I continued to look at the massive crater, feeling the presence of the others nearing to check-in. “Our bodies adapt rapidly in response to opposition. That’s how our race managed to adapt to standard gravity to ten times the galactic standard. The more we’re injured, the more our bodies can build themselves back stronger than before.”

“Which is why you created the Medicine Ball,” Vegeta hazarded a guess. And he wasn’t wholly wrong, so I nodded since I knew he wouldn’t understand that my motivation had also been to prevent our troops from dying pointlessly. “Hmph...with it, it’s only a matter of time before we surpass Frieza himself.” 

I took off my scouter and tossed it into the crater so we could speak freely. 

“I don’t think it’s going to be that easy,” I told Vegeta. “Frieza is in a class of his own...I know we only have a record of his power level being ten million, but I...I would put it closer to a hundred million. Or more,” I was quick to put down the notion that defeating Frieza in a fight would be anything but easy. 

Vegeta looked faintly alarmed, but I could see what happened to Sereall flash before his eyes. I knew because every time I thought of his strength, that’s what popped into my mind. “A hundred million…? What an absolutely ridiculous number,” he said, sounding like he agreed with my assessment. 

“We’re nowhere near his level of strength. And we won’t be for a long time. The ki sensing will help --if our bodies react to a powerful opponent, then feeling their presence will do a lot more than just reading a power level on a screen. But, I also have an idea for a technique-” Vegeta huffed, muttering a ‘of course you do’ before I continued. “- that could help us train. That way we won’t be so dependent on finding powerful opponents.”

“Elery gave me the idea. It might take some time, but if I can figure out how to manipulate gravity with a technique then I could make it stronger just as I could weaker. Our race grew stronger because we lived under ten times the standard gravity, but what if we trained in twenty times the standard? Or more?” I asked, trying to picture it. 

Vegeta fell silent, looking upward, peering through the sand and dust at the presences above that were likely searching for us. 

“Do you intend to spread these techniques to everyone?” Vegeta asked, looking back down at me. I knew the answer that he wanted to hear was no. But if I said that, then it would be a lie. 

“I will. If we’re so weak that we have to cripple our race to remain the strongest, then we don’t deserve it,” I stated. Vegeta flashed me a sharp grin before he turned his attention to the crater that we stood at the edge of. Both of us looked down to see that the bottom was filling up with sand and I could feel the ground shifting beneath us.

Despite the fact I could fly, I couldn’t help but worry that I would trip and fall until I hit the bottom.

“Well said.”