Dragon Ball: Perfection

The silence hung thick in the air, broken only by the faint hum of Whis's staff as he moved it over the battered Saiyans. Goku, Vegeta, Broly, and Gohan lay bruised and bloodied, remnants of their last battle etched into every wound. The quiet crackle of Whis's healing energy was all that kept them anchored, the comforting glow mending their broken bodies as they slowly regained consciousness.

Goku opened his eyes first, blinking away the haze, and winced as a sharp pain shot through his ribs. But even as his physical wounds began to fade, the memory of their defeat still weighed heavily in his mind. He glanced at Whis, who met his gaze with a calm, unreadable expression.

"Whis," Goku murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Where's Cell?"

Whis's face remained neutral, as if he hadn't heard the question. He continued his work, his hands moving with graceful precision, healing Gohan's deep cuts, tending to Vegeta's bruised form, and steadying Broly's ragged breathing. The question lingered in the air, unanswered, and the tension grew.

Vegeta sat up, his gaze dark and unwavering as he locked eyes with Whis. "Did you hear him, Whis?" he demanded, a faint edge to his voice. "Where is Cell?"

Whis's expression softened, but he maintained his silence, his gaze flicking toward the horizon as if drawn by something far beyond their reach. It was clear he had chosen not to speak, leaving the Saiyans to process the enormity of their situation.

"Tch," Vegeta scoffed, clenching his fists. "Typical." His voice was low, tinged with bitterness, and he turned away, his body tense with restrained anger. "This is a waste of time. I'm heading back to Earth."

Gohan, finally steady on his feet, nodded, his gaze drifting downward. "I need to see if Pan is safe." The worry in his eyes betrayed the strain of holding himself together, and his hand trembled as he gripped his side.

Whis, still calm, watched as the four Saiyans gathered their energy. He raised his staff, creating a small portal back to Earth. One by one, they stepped through, the warmth of Whis's healing aura fading as they left the quiet expanse of space behind.

....

They arrived in the heart of what was once the Red Ribbon headquarters. The air was thick with smoke, and charred debris littered the ground. Twisted remnants of machinery lay scattered, their wires frayed, sparking faintly in the dull light of a smog-covered sky. An oppressive quiet filled the air, as if the battle that had torn through this place still lingered in the ruins.

Bulma was there, her face pale and drawn, her hands trembling as she tended to Goten, Trunks, and Krillin. The three lay on makeshift stretchers, their bodies covered in bruises, their breathing shallow. Bulma's eyes were red-rimmed as she worked, wiping the blood from Goten's forehead, her touch gentle but her expression hollow. She looked up as the Saiyans arrived, and for a moment, relief flickered in her gaze before the weight of the scene pulled her down again.

Goku's breath caught as he saw his son, Goten lying still, his face battered and his arm bound tightly in a bloodied bandage. Goku knelt beside him, his hand hovering over Goten's face, his fingers brushing lightly against his hair. "Goten…" he whispered, his voice cracking.

A weak smile flickered across Goten's face as he stirred, his eyes fluttering open. "Dad…" he murmured, his voice strained.

"You're okay," Goku said softly, forcing a smile as he placed a gentle hand on Goten's shoulder. "I'm here now." His gaze shifted to Krillin, who lay a few feet away, staring blankly at the sky, his face pale, his breaths shallow. Goku reached out, his hand resting on Krillin's, and he squeezed gently.

Krillin stirred at the touch, his eyes focusing on Goku. There was a haunted look in his eyes, a deep, raw pain that went beyond the physical wounds. "Goku…" he whispered, his voice barely audible.

"Krillin, I'm here," Goku replied, his voice soft but steady. "I'm here."

Krillin's gaze dropped, his lips trembling as he struggled to find the words. "She… she's gone…" he stammered, his eyes glistening. "Eighteen… she…" His voice broke, and he looked away, a tear sliding down his cheek. "Her real name… is Lazuli." He choked on the name, as though saying it aloud solidified the harsh reality. "She… she's gone, Goku. She's gone, and I couldn't… I couldn't protect her…"

Blood mixed with his tears, creating dark streaks down his cheeks. His fists clenched as he took a shuddering breath. "I swear… on everything… I'll make him pay."

The weight of Krillin's words hung in the air, and Goku tightened his grip on his friend's hand, his own heart heavy with grief. He nodded, his voice hoarse. "We'll make him pay, Krillin. For her… for all of them."

A short distance away, Gohan moved to Pan, who sat alone, hugging her knees, her face streaked with tears. Her tiny body trembled, and when she saw her father, she ran to him, burying her face in his chest. "Daddy… it was so scary," she whispered, her voice muffled as she clung to him.

Gohan wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, his heart aching as he held her. "It's okay, Pan. I'm here now," he murmured, his voice filled with a fierce protectiveness. But even as he spoke, the memory of Piccolo's sacrifice weighed heavily on him, and he could feel the loss burning in his chest.

Pan looked up, her wide, tear-filled eyes searching his face. "Uncle Piccolo… is he… gone?"

Gohan's breath caught, and he hesitated, his throat tight. He didn't have the words, but he nodded slowly, his own tears blurring his vision. "Yes, Pan," he whispered, his voice breaking. "But he… he fought so hard for all of us."

Pan nodded, her small fingers clutching his shirt as she buried her face in his chest again. "I miss him…"

"I know," Gohan whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to her hair. "I miss him too."

As Gohan held Pan, Vegeta stood nearby, his arms crossed, his gaze cold but unwavering. He looked over at Trunks, who lay beside Goten, his face bruised, his breathing shallow. Trunks's eyes fluttered open, and he looked at his father, the faintest trace of relief crossing his face.

"You're safe now," Vegeta said, his voice rough but steady. He didn't move closer, but his presence held a silent promise, a vow that this loss would not go unanswered.

After a moment, Vegeta cleared his throat, his gaze shifting to the others. "This isn't over," he said, his voice low and resolute. "We can revive those we've lost."

The words were a beacon of hope, cutting through the despair that filled the air. Bulma looked up, her eyes widening as realization dawned on her. "The Dragon Balls…" she murmured, her voice soft but steady.

Beside her, Dr. Hedo nodded, his face grave as he watched the Saiyans. "If we can bring back those who fell in this battle… it may be our only chance to stand against Cell when he returns."

Gohan looked to Bulma, a flicker of determination in his eyes. "We'll need them all… to bring back everyone we've lost."

Bulma's gaze drifted to the worn remains of the Red Ribbon base, and she nodded, a spark of resolve igniting in her expression. "I know where they are," she said, her voice filled with quiet determination. "I'll gather the Dragon Balls. We're not letting Cell take any more from us."

The Saiyans and their allies stood together in the ruins, their gazes fixed on the horizon, where dark clouds gathered, heavy with the promise of more battles to come. But for the first time since the fight, a sense of purpose filled them, a quiet resolve to see this through to the end.

As the last light of day faded, casting long shadows across the broken landscape, Bulma turned, her voice firm as she addressed the group. "We're bringing them back… and we're going to finish this."

The others nodded, the weight of loss tempered by a newfound determination. And as they stood amid the ruins, the promise of vengeance and hope bound them together, preparing them for the trials that lay ahead.