Many warriors leaned forward — some confused, some skeptical.
"Before we proceed," the Grand Priest spoke, his voice echoing evenly through the divine space, "several of you have questioned why Rosan of Timeline 5 will fight again. This is in accordance with a rule established before Phase Four began."
A projection appeared in the air behind him — showing all timelines, their emblems glowing.
"The two timelines with the most remaining warriors after Phase Three — Timelines One and Five — were each granted an adjustment to ensure fairness at the end of the tournament. Timeline One retains numerical advantage through active combatants. Timeline Five, therefore, receives a second-chance selection — a randomly chosen fighter restored to battle readiness."
He looked toward the Saiyan Empire's section.
"That fighter was determined to be Rosan."
The moment he said it, Rosan smirked — crossing his arms, his posture radiating pride. His body was freshly healed, but his aura already burned higher than before. The Zenkai boost was evident in every muscle, his ki denser and hotter.
"Zenkai," Piccolo muttered from Timeline 1's bench. "He just got stronger from losing."
Vegeta grunted. "Of course he did. It's a Saiyan trait. The more they lose, the deadlier they get."
Goku leaned forward slightly. "Yeah, but look at him. he's eager."
Future Gohan added quietly, "And that might be his undoing."
Across the arena, Gohan stepped forward. Present Gohan — calm, focused, and already radiating an almost serene confidence.
No armor. No weighted gear. Just his dark gi, and that subtle smile that had once made Cell tremble.
His aura was still — not even flaring, yet everyone could feel the quiet depth of his strength.
The contrast between them was perfect.
Rosan: proud, smirking, impatient.
Gohan: calm, collected, and utterly in control.
As both took their places in the center of the ring, Rosan cracked his neck and shouted, "You're that weakling's son, right? Kakarot's brat?"
Gohan looked at him, unbothered. "You could say that."
Rosan grinned, stepping closer, his boots cracking the marble beneath them. "Good. Then I get to test what makes your timeline so proud of you."
Gohan's tone didn't change. "You'll see soon enough."
The Grand Priest raised a hand.
"Begin."
Rosan vanished first — a golden streak of motion. His fist came low, aiming for Gohan's ribs, but Gohan tilted his torso slightly — the punch missed by a breath. Rosan followed with a spinning elbow, a rising knee, a full barrage of physical strikes — all clean, all precise — but Gohan deflected them effortlessly, never even breaking his stance.
"Stop dodging and fight me!" Rosan roared.
"I am fighting," Gohan said softly. He tapped Rosan's forearm with a gentle flick — the kind that shouldn't hurt. But it sent Rosan skidding back several meters, his eyes wide.
"What—?"
"Your speed's good," Gohan said, still calm. "But you're thinking too much about attacking, not adapting."
That only made Rosan angrier.
His aura exploded — a crimson-gold light shaking the arena. His hair flared up, eyes sharpening, the transformation striking instantly.
Super Saiyan.
The ground split beneath him as his full power surged. "Let's see you adapt to this!"
He shot forward, the impact of his steps forming small sonic booms. His fist connected — finally — slamming into Gohan's jaw.
It didn't move him much, but it landed.
Rosan followed up with a vicious combo: two rapid punches, a knee to the chest, then a high roundhouse aimed at Gohan's neck. Gohan raised an arm to block the last hit, his expression unchanged.
"Better," he said quietly.
Rosan snarled and swung again — a full power hook. Gohan ducked, twisted, and tapped Rosan's chest with his palm.
A flash of gold.
Rosan's body was flung backward, tumbling across the floor, stopping just short of the barrier. The crowd gasped.
"He's reading every move," Krillin muttered. "That's Gohan for you."
Ruthless Vegeta leaned forward from Timeline 5's bench, growling. "He's mocking him. He's not even trying."
Bardock stayed silent, arms crossed. "Then Rosan better make him."
Rosan stood again, panting, anger turning into disbelief.
His knuckles bled. His aura wavered.
And still — Gohan hadn't powered up once.
Then, without warning, Gohan's aura flickered to life.
A soft, clean golden flame — tranquil but immeasurably strong.
Perfect Super Saiyan.
Unlike Rosan's fierce energy, Gohan's was pure control. No wasted light, no screaming thunder. Just power — efficient, unshakable.
The pressure in the arena changed immediately.
Broly's eye twitched. "That's... unnatural calm. He's suppressing more than he's showing."
Vegito (T2) smirked faintly. "That's the son of Goku for you."
Gohan stepped forward, still smiling lightly. "Your turn."
Rosan roared, veins bulging as his aura erupted again. His energy spiked — muscles tightening, voice trembling under the strain. "Fine! No holding back!"
His hair grew longer, his brow receded, lightning snapping across his aura.
Super Saiyan 3.
The sound that followed his transformation tore through the stands like a roaring storm. His power multiplied eightfold in an instant. The sheer energy cracked the barrier before the angels stabilized it.
The sight was stunning. His golden hair reached his waist, his aura shimmering like fire around molten steel. His eyes locked on Gohan, rage and pride burning together.
"Now… we fight for real!"
He vanished.
This time, even Gohan moved.
The air detonated as their fists collided — shockwave spiraling out like a small nuclear blast. The arena floor cratered beneath them, marble flying into the sky.
Rosan pressed forward with a flurry of attacks — pure speed and raw fury. Every strike whistled, every hit came close enough to split air.
Gohan blocked them all with single, efficient motions — one hand sometimes, one step other times. He countered only when he had to.
A backhand to Rosan's wrist.
A knee to stop his kick.
A small twist that broke his stance.
And every time Rosan tried to get closer, Gohan's aura pulsed slightly — pushing him back with effortless pressure.
Rosan screamed, voice echoing, "STOP LOOKING DOWN ON ME!"
He charged again, feinting a punch before firing a massive golden blast from point-blank range. The explosion consumed Gohan completely — the ground buckling under the impact.
Rosan dropped to one knee, panting heavily, hair whipping from the aftershock.
"Yeah... see? You're not untouchable!"
The smoke cleared.
And Gohan walked through it. Unharmed.
He looked almost… apologetic. "I'm not mocking you, Rosan. But you're wasting too much energy."
Rosan's mouth fell slightly open — and that instant of distraction was all Gohan needed.
In less than a blink, he disappeared and reappeared behind Rosan.
A single chop to the neck.
A quiet sound — almost gentle.
Then silence.
Rosan's eyes rolled back as he collapsed to the floor, his Super Saiyan 3 aura flickering out.
The Grand Priest raised his hand calmly.
"The winner is Present Gohan, Timeline One."
The arena was quiet for a moment. Then the reactions came in waves.
Timeline 5 was furious.
King Vegeta slammed his fist into the barrier. "Impossible! That human-loving fool toyed with him!"
Bardock said nothing, though his gaze was sharp. "He measured him. And that's worse."
Ruthless Vegeta leaned back, expression tight. "So that's the strength of Earth's half-breeds…"
Timeline 1 was calm but proud.
Future Gohan exhaled with a faint smile. "He didn't even need Perfect Mystic. He's still growing."
Vegeta crossed his arms. "That was only a percentile of his real strength."
Bulma nodded. "And Rosan's power was already monstrous after that Zenkai."
Goku chuckled softly. "He's got potential like no one else. That's my boy."
As the angels carried Rosan away for healing, Gohan stood in the center of the ring, eyes closed, aura fading gently.
He bowed — quietly, respectfully — to his fallen opponent.
Then, turning to his team, he smiled faintly.
"Next one'll be harder."
It had been nearly 15 Minutes since Broly and Vegeta were carried from the battlefield.
The healers had done their work — but even divine recovery couldn't completely hide what that fight had carved into the Prince's spirit.
Vegeta reappeared on Timeline 1's bench, his body fully restored, his armor spotless — but his expression dark.
He wasn't smiling.
He wasn't even angry.
He looked annoyed.
Bulma was the first to notice the change. "Vegeta! You're okay—"
"Of course I am." His tone cut through her relief, flat and cold.
Goku approached with that familiar grin — warm, proud.
"Hey, that fight with Broly… that was something else! You really—"
But Vegeta slapped his hand away before he could finish.
The sound was sharp, echoing just enough to silence everyone nearby.
"The first real test of strength in this entire tournament," Vegeta said, voice low but fierce. "And I failed."
He turned away, looking out toward the ring, where the cracked tiles from his battle were still being reformed by angelic energy.
"There's nothing to be proud of in that."
Future Gohan glanced at him, calm as ever. "You pushed a monster like Broly into a new transformation. No one else here could've survived that."
Vegeta's fists clenched. "I don't want to survive, boy. I want to win, Also don't act like you could not do the same."
Piccolo folded his arms. "You were fighting a being that grows stronger with every breath. There's no shame in—"
"There's shame in losing," Vegeta cut him off, his aura flickering faintly with frustrated ki. "Especially to someone who doesn't even understand what he is."
He looked down at his hands.
They trembled — not from pain, but from energy.
A Zenkai surge — violent, unrestrained, pure Saiyan evolution. His power was still climbing, the red tint of godly energy flickering around him for just an instant before it vanished again.
Future Trunks stepped forward. "Father—"
"Don't," Vegeta said quietly, though his tone softened just slightly. "Save your breath for your own fight. We're not here for comfort."
Bulma tried to reach him again, but he didn't move. He was staring at his hands now — like he could see something no one else could.
"I touched it," he muttered under his breath. "For a moment… I had the calm. The divinity. And then it slipped."
Goku's smile faded. "You mean… that red form?"
Vegeta didn't answer. He just exhaled sharply through his nose and crossed his arms, sitting down at the far end of the bench.
The silence that followed was heavy — not awkward, but reverent.
He was sharpening.
---
Across the field, Whis lifted a hand, his voice cutting through the tension.
The announcer, floating high above the arena, raised his staff and projected the next matchup into the air.
NEXT MATCH!
Broly (T4)— The Monster of a Dead Universe*
🆚
Goku (T1) — The Earth-Born Saiyan*
The stadium erupted — every corner of every timeline roaring in mixed emotions.
Some in awe, some terrified, some thrilled.
Future Gohan stood, arms crossed, watching as Goku's expression lit up like a child's.
"Oh man," he said, cracking his knuckles. "I've been waiting for this one."
Piccolo frowned. "You saw what that thing did to Vegeta. Don't underestimate him."
Goku smirked. "Wouldn't dream of it."
Behind him, Vegeta opened one eye — finally looking at Goku as he passed.
"Kakarot."
Goku paused.
"Don't you *dare* lose," Vegeta said, his tone quieter now, but still razor-edged. "If anyone's going to surpass that monster… it'll be me."
Goku's grin softened. "Heh. I'll keep him warmed up for you."
Vegeta closed his eyes again, arms crossed. "You'd better."
---
As Goku walked toward the ring, the entire arena seemed to lean with him — the weight of two universes' worth of expectation pressing in from every direction.
From the far end of the battlefield, a portal shimmered — and Broly stepped out.
His footsteps shook the marble. His body was wrapped in scars, but his expression was the same as always: blank, half-curious, and half-mad.
Every step made the air tremble.
He stopped just opposite Goku, staring silently.
Goku stretched his neck and smiled. "Been a while since I fought someone like you."
Broly tilted his head slightly. "You… feel different. Not weak. Not strong. Just diferent."
Goku laughed softly. "Guess we'll find out which one's right."
The Grand Priest raised his hand.
"BEGIN!"
---
The moment the Grand Priest's hand dropped, Goku didn't waste a second.
He knew what Broly was — he'd *seen* what Vegeta went through.
This wasn't a fight to measure strength or play around with forms.
This was survival — against a creature that learned while losing.
Broly took his first step forward, calm, unreadable. His aura wasn't flaring, not yet. The crowd fell silent.
And then — Goku vanished.
In a blink, his hair snapped upright, golden fire bursting around him with enough force to crater the ground beneath. Perfect Super Saiyan.
The tiles cracked and floated upward.
Broly barely had time to brace before Goku appeared in front of him, his fist already driving into the Saiyan's gut.
The impact made a thunderclap — air bursting outward, the barrier rippling.
Broly didn't even scream, just grunted — his body sliding back a few meters, eyes widening.
Goku didn't stop. His body blurred — each movement precise, efficient, ruthless. He darted in, elbows, knees, open palms, fists — a cyclone of strikes.
Each one was perfect form. Not angry. Not desperate.
Measured.
From the benches, Vegeta's eyes narrowed. "He's not wasting time."
Future Gohan leaned forward. "He can't afford to. Every second that thing breathes, he's getting stronger."
Goku's combo ended with a rising kick that launched Broly into the air. Before gravity could even claim him, Goku was there — teleporting midair and slamming him downward with a hammerfist.
Broly hit the ring so hard that energy pillars erupted from the impact. The crowd shielded themselves from the shockwave.
But even before the dust cleared, Broly's ki started rising again — that eerie, bottomless green glow.
"Still growing, huh…" Goku muttered. His eyes hardened. "Then I'll have to end this now."
He took a deep breath, lowering his stance.
The air warped — the very sound around him folding inward.
Then lightning exploded around his body, golden hair lengthening, aura erupting into a storm of power that shook the heavens.
"Perfect Super Saiyan 3!"
The audience gasped — the sheer spiritual pressure distorting the light itself.
Even Beerus and Whis in the distant VIP stand exchanged glances, though they said nothing.
Goku blurred forward — faster than sound, faster than thought — his first strike a knee to Broly's chest that bent space around the point of impact.
Then came the storm.
He flowed.
Every movement built from everything he'd ever learned:
The precision of Master Roshi's teaching.
The fluid unpredictability of Tien's school.
The deceptive, off-balance strikes of Crane style.
And that classic, raw, brawler instinct that was purely Son Goku.
Each impact reverberated across the entire ring — sparks of divine energy flickering off his hair as he poured every ounce of skill into keeping Broly *off rhythm.*
The Saiyan from Timeline 4 was getting destroyed — his jaw snapping sideways from one blow, his ribs bending inward from another.
Goku caught his arm mid-swing and flipped him, driving an elbow into his back, pinning him into the ground before spinning into a high kick that sent him airborne again.
Broly's body crashed through the air like a meteor — his aura still green but unstable, erratic, fighting to rise again.
Goku appeared above him, cupping his hands together.
"Ka… me…"
The crowd's hearts skipped a beat.
"…ha… me…"
The golden light flared brighter than the arena's artificial sun.
"*HAAAA!!!*"
The beam fired, massive and concentrated, engulfing Broly in an instant — slamming him straight into the barrier.
The shockwave rattled every spectator's bones. Even Goku had to raise a hand to block the backlash of his own attack.
As the light faded, Broly was *still standing.*
Smoke rolled off his body, armor shredded, eyes unfocused — but he was still there. Breathing. Smiling.
Then that smile twisted.
He leaned forward, growling — the air around him compressing with each inhale.
His skin glowed green.
Veins pulsed along his arms.
Lightning cracked.
The entire ring shook.
Goku's pupils shrank. "Oh no…"
Future Gohan shouted from the stands, "Goku! Don't let him—"
Too late.
Broly threw his head back and roared.
A wall of green ki erupted outward, shaking the entire barrier. The pressure forced Goku to shield his ears and close his eyes, his body trembling under the sound alone.
Tiles shattered beneath his feet. The energy blasted dust and debris miles into the sky.
Broly's voice echoed through the maelstrom — guttural, raw, primal.
When the shockwave finally died down, and the light settled — the transformation was complete.
His hair had grown longer, glowing like emerald flame. His aura burned brighter, wild and uncontrollable.
The very air vibrated with it.
Legendary Super Saiyan 2.
He looked down at Goku — his chest heaving, his grin spreading.
"You hit me hard," Broly said, his voice low, trembling with excitement. "Now it's my turn."
Goku took a deep breath, eyes narrowing as his golden aura surged again.
"Fine then. Let's go all out."