Kakarot's Arc

Chapter 3 of 14

The armored champion planted his boots in the sand. His greatsword was as tall as a boy. Before the fight began, Master Roshi caught Kakarot by the wrist. The old man lowered his sunglasses. "That plasma trick beat one man," he said. "It won't beat two. This one has watched you. Fight him like you fought the last, and he'll punish every mistake." Kakarot pulled his arm free. "I don't have time to be slow," he said. Roshi shook his head and stepped back. "Then learn the hard way." Kakarot charged. Both gauntlets flared blue and pink. He swung for the big man's arm, the same strike that won before. The champion was ready. He turned his shoulder plate and took the blow on solid steel. The plasma cores flashed and did nothing. Then the flat of the greatsword slammed into Kakarot's ribs. The blow lifted him off his feet and threw him across the sand. Kakarot rose. He swung again. The champion caught his wrist, spun him, and hammered him down. A boot pressed his face into the dirt. Roshi's warning rang true. Every wild attack opened a gap, and the big man filled each one. Kakarot's gauntlets sparked weaker now. His arms shook. Blood ran from his mouth. Across the arena, Chi-Chi gripped Raddits's arm, her knuckles white. Raddits started forward. Roshi held him back. "No. He needs this." The champion raised his greatsword over Kakarot's back for the killing blow. Kakarot pressed his hands into the sand. He stopped swinging. He went still. He breathed once, slow, the way Roshi had drilled into him for years. Discipline. Not fire. He felt the plasma in the gauntlets, and beneath it, something deeper. A light burst from him. His black hair lifted and turned gold. His eyes flashed green. Sand blew away in every direction. The champion staggered back, blade wavering. Kakarot stood, and the ground cracked under his feet. His strength was fifty times what it had been. He moved before the big man could think. Kakarot caught the falling greatsword in one bare hand and snapped the blade like a stick. The champion swung a fist. Kakarot ducked it easily and drove his glowing hand through the man's chest plate. The armor buckled. The champion coughed once and dropped. He did not move again. The crowd went silent, then screamed. Kakarot stood over the dead champion, hair gold, eyes burning green. Slowly the light faded. His hair fell black again. He dropped to one knee, empty, his whole body trembling. Chi-Chi ran to him. Raddits followed. Master Roshi walked out last. He looked at the golden glow already gone from Kakarot's skin. He did not smile. "So it woke," the old man said quietly. "That was not discipline, boy. That was luck and rage. You can't call that power. Not yet." He looked toward the far seats, where a figure watched from the shadows. "And now everyone here saw it. They'll come ready."