**Scene: The Princess Arrived
The training grounds buzzed with chaos as Gogeta dangled upside-down in a headlock courtesy of Mori, her blue hair sparking with untamed energy.
**Mori (grinning maniacally):** “Say it! Say ‘Princess Mori is the strongest!’”
**Gogeta (wheezing, kicking air):** “Never! You fight like a—*urk*—a rabid space-otter!”
The elite warriors surrounding them howled with laughter, some clutching their sides.
**Elite Warrior #1 (snorting):** “Kid’s got spirit! And *terrible* survival instincts!”
**Elite Warrior #2 (mocking tears):** “This is the best show we’ve had since Vykor tried to cook!”
**Zephira (rubbing her temples):** “Release him. *Now.*”
**Mori (sticking out her tongue):** “Make me, Grandma!”
**Gogeta (flailing):** “I’M TOO YOUNG TO BE STRANGLED BY A GLITTER-BOMB!”
Suddenly, the grand doors creaked open.
**Voice (calm, melodic):** “Mori.”
The room froze. Warriors snapped to attention so fast their armor clanked. Vykor, mid-laugh, choked on his own spit. Even Zephira’s eye twitched in relief.
Princess zola glided in, her silken blue hair shimmering like a tranquil river. Her presence didn’t crush the room—it *hushed* it, as if the universe itself paused to adjust her crown.
**Mori (instantly dropping Gogeta, bowing):** “M-Mother! We were just… uh… practicing diplomacy!”
**Gogeta (faceplanting, muffled):** “Diplo-*OW*-macy…”
The princess’s gaze swept over them, lingering on Gogeta’s boot stuck in a training dummy’s mouth.
**Princess Zola (softly):** “Mori. Bed. Now.”
**Mori (saluting):** “Yes! Absolutely! Super responsible!” She sprinted away, only to skid back, whisper-yelling at Gogeta: “This isn’t over, Sparkles!”
**Gogeta (dusting off, muttering):** “Sparkles?! You literally have *confetti* in your hair!”
**Mori (gasping, scandalized):** “IT’S BATTLE CONFETTI! RESPECT THE ART!”
The princess Zola raised one eyebrow. Mori vanished in a sonic *boom*, leaving a crater shaped like a panicked starfish.
**Princess zola (to Gogeta):** “you must be new from here . My daughter… enjoys making friends.” Her lips quirked, a ghost of a smile. “Do try to keep up.”
As she floated out, the room exhaled.
**Vykor (grinning):** “Congrats, kid. You’re officially her favorite chew toy.”
**Gogeta (deadpan):** “I’d rather fight a black hole.”
**Zephira (dry):** “Black holes are quieter.”
The elites erupted again as Gogeta facepalmed, Mori’s giggles echoing down the hall.
The door sealed behind her.
**Chapter Title: The Crucible of Blood**
---
The hall stretched endlessly, its obsidian walls swallowing the light from faint, pulsing glyphs etched into the stone. Zephira’s footsteps echoed like a drumbeat as Gogeta trailed behind, his boots scuffing against the floor. Doors lined the corridor—each one identical, each one sealed—as though the labyrinth itself were judging him.
“Your cousins,” Zephira said abruptly, her voice slicing through the silence. Her silver hair glinted like a blade in the dimness. “You’ll meet them. And you’ll *love* them.”
Gogeta blinked. “Cousins? Since when do I—”
“Since always,” she snapped, not slowing. “Your bloodline isn’t as… *solitary* as you believed.” Her laugh was a dry rasp. “Consider this a family reunion.”
The hall finally spat them into a cavernous chamber. Gogeta’s breath hitched.
***Thoom. Thoom. Thoom.***
The air itself *vibrated*—a relentless barrage of concussive force. A hundred figures, maybe more, blurred in the haze. Teenagers, all older than him, muscles coiled and glistening under artificial light. Some levitated mid-kick, fists cratering reinforced alloy walls. Others sparred in pairs, their strikes cracking like thunder. Energy beams lanced through the air, scorching the floor. The stench of burnt ozone and sweat was suffocating.
Zephira gestured to the chaos. “Welcome to the *real* family business.”
A gravity chamber. But not like the ones he’d trained in before. This was a coliseum of punishment. The floor shimmered, warped by gravitational distortion. A boy nearby collapsed, vomiting blood, only to stagger up again, screaming as he charged a training drone.
Zephira’s hand clamped onto Gogeta’s shoulder. Her nails dug in. “No sleep. No escape. Just *progress*.” Her smile was a sickle. “Prove you’re worth the blood in your veins.”
Before he could speak, she shoved him.
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The gravity hit like a dying star.
Gogeta’s knees buckled instantly. His bones groaned; his vision blurred. Every breath felt like inhaling molten lead. Around him, the cousins didn’t falter—their movements slower but no less brutal, their eyes flicking to him with icy disdain.
Gogeta snarled, trembling as he forced himself upright. His muscles screamed. His joints popped. But he rose, inch by inch, until he stood hunched, sweat pooling at his feet.
Then Gogeta’s knees hit the floor first. The gravity wasn’t just heavy—it was *alive*, a predator gnawing at his bones. He gasped, sweat already pooling beneath his palms. Around him, the cousins didn’t glance his way. They were too absorbed in their own crucibles:
- **The Meditators**: A ring of teens levitated cross-legged at the chamber’s edge, their bodies glowing faintly. The air around them *rippled* as they channeled ki into shields that warped under the gravity. One boy’s nose bled freely, his face serene even as his shield flickered and collapsed. He rebuilt it, again and again, unflinching.
- **The Stormcallers**: A group farther back hurled ki blasts the size of boulders into reinforced targets. Each blast left craters, but the cousins didn’t cheer—they adjusted stances, recalculated angles. A girl with cropped hair and burn scars up her arms gathered a sphere of crackling violet energy, her scream raw as she compressed it into a pinpoint beam. The recoil shattered her wrist. She reset it mid-motion and fired again.
- **The Sparring Pairs**: Closer to Gogeta, two fighters blurred in a grapple. The smaller one—a wiry girl with twin braids—twisted her opponent’s arm until the joint popped, only to eat a knee to the ribs in return. They fought silently, no taunts, no grunts, just the sickening *crunch* of impacts. Blood speckled the floor. Neither flinched.
- **The Weightlifters**: Near the chamber’s center, a dozen cousins strained against colossal iron slabs, their veins bulging like cables. One teen, his shirt drenched, hoisted a slab overhead only for the gravity to slam it back down. It pinned his leg. He didn’t cry out—just began punching the slab, fist splitting open, until he shattered it.
---
Gogeta’s arms shook as he tried to rise. Every muscle fiber screamed. His spine felt like it was being threaded with hot iron. *Move. Just… move.*
He managed a crawl.
The gravity pressed harder, as though the chamber itself despised him. Ahead, a cousin meditating on one knee cracked an eye open. Her gaze swept over Gogeta—a flicker of scrutiny—before she returned to channeling a helix of energy around her fists.
*They don’t care,* Gogeta realized. *They’re not even mocking me. I’m… nothing here.*
Teeth gritted, he planted a foot.
***Crack.***
The floor dented under his boot. His thighs burned as he forced himself upright, hunched like an old man beneath a collapsing star. Each breath was a battle. His vision swam, but he steadied himself, swaying as he took a single step.
A step that felt like dragging a planet.
---
To his left, a sparring match crescendoed. A lanky boy with silver hair ducked a ki-enhanced axe kick, retaliating with a palm strike that sent his opponent skidding. The loser wiped blood from his lip, nodded, and they reset—faster this time, strikes sharper.
To his right, a mountain of a teen bench-pressed a gargantuan weight, his roar guttural as the gravity multiplied mid-lift. His arms trembled, tendons threatening to snap, but he finished the rep.
Gogeta took another step.
His ankle gave. He caught himself, fingertips scraping the floor. Blood dripped from his nose, his ears. *Pathetic,* he thought, echoing Zephira’s voice in his skull. *Is this all?*
No.
Gogeta’s vision swam as he took his tenth step. Blood dripped from his nose, mingling with sweat as Zephira’s voice echoed: *"A maggot has more worth."* His knees trembled, but beneath the shame, a spark flared—the memory of Bumma’s scars, her quiet plea: *"Fight for you."*
**"ENOUGH!"**
Golden light detonated from his core, shattering the gravity chamber’s floor. When the dust cleared, Gogeta stood transformed, his hair a wildfire of defiance. The chamber’s lights flickered, casting his elongated shadow across the awestruck cousins like a declaration.
For three breaths, there was silence. Then the world rushed back in—clanging weights, sizzling ki blasts, and a voice slicing through the noise:
**"Pssst. Over here, Goldilocks."**
Gogeta turned, still panting, to see a lanky teen leaning against a cracked pillar. Beyond him, Gogeta’s exhausted eyes registered the squad for the first time:
- A mountain of muscle (**Samir**) juggling boulders like they were tennis balls. (*Brute*, Gogeta thought.)
- A petite girl (**Mimi**) glaring at a smoking training dummy. (*Temper issues.*)
- A brooding figure (**Kai**) meditating upside-down, radiating quiet danger. (*Probably psycho.*)
**"Name’s Dai,"** said the teen, snapping Gogeta’s attention back. **"You’re blocking the view."**
**"The… view?"**
Dai smirked, gesturing grandly to his friends. **"Of my future fan club. But you can join—if you survive initiation."**
---
### **Deeper Squad Setup Before Montage**
**Gogeta’s First Mistake:**
- **Samir** lumbered over, crushing Gogeta’s hand in a handshake that rattled his molars. **"Nice grip! Wanna arm-wrestle? I’ll use my pinky."**
- **Mimi** teleported behind him, kicking his calf. **"How’d you go Super Saiyan? *Tell me.*"**
- **Kai** didn’t move, but his voice cut through the noise: **"Dai. Stop recruiting strays."**
**Gogeta’s Second Mistake:** **"I’m not a stray—"**
**"Relax,"** Dai slung an arm around his shoulders, **"Zephira’s my great-aunt. Family discount on friendship."**
1. **Samir’s “Handshake” Add-On:**
- After nearly dislocating Gogeta’s arm, Samir flexed. **"Don’t worry, little guy. I’ll train you to be *dense* like me!"**
- **Gogeta (internally):** *Brute. Kinda… wholesome brute?*
- Mimi cornered Gogeta post-kick, eyes narrowed. **"If you got SSJ from *almost dying*, I’ll just… almost kill you. For science."**
- **Dai (popping up):** **"She’s flirting!"**
- Mimi’s ki blast singed Dai’s hair.
- Between faceplants, Dai whispered: **"Big Bro’s watching. Play along, or he’ll ‘train’ us."**
- Gogeta followed his gaze—Kai’s eyes were open, analyzing Gogeta’s stance. *Psycho. Definitely psycho.*
As the squad lounged post-training, Gogeta’s golden aura flickered out. Exhaustion hit him like a truck—but for once, it felt earned.
- **"You."** She jabbed a finger at him. **"Tomorrow. No SSJ. No squad. Just *pain*."**
- **Dai (grinning):** **"Aw, Joules! Knew you had a crush."**
- Her pink ki blast missed him by inches, vaporizing a wall.
As Dai got dragged away, Kai paused beside Gogeta. **"You move like someone who’s still choosing his style."** A beat. **"Good."
Chapter Title: "Gravity's Crucible"
---
Prologue: The Weight of Legacy
The castle’s halls were silent, the echoes of Zephira’s scorn still clinging to the air like smoke. Gogeta leaned against a frost-etched window, his breath fogging the glass as he stared at the training grounds below. Cousins sparred under the moonlight, their ki flaring like distant supernovas. He flexed his hand, still feeling the phantom sting of Zephira’s slap.
"A maggot has more worth."
He’d replayed those words a thousand times. They coiled in his gut, colder than the void between stars.
---
Scene 1: Midnight’s Toll
The gravity chamber hummed to life, its walls vibrating with latent energy. Gogeta stood at the center, the control panel blinking 500x Gravity. Dai leaned in the doorway, tossing an apple core into a disposal chute.
Dai: “You sure about this, Goldie? Even I don’t crank it past 300 after midnight.”
Gogeta: “I’m not you.”
The switch flipped.
The first wave crushed him to his knees. His ribs screamed. Blood trickled from his nostrils, iron-bitter on his lips.
Dai (mocking): “Real inspiring.”
Gogeta snarled, forcing himself upright. His bones creaked like ancient timber.
---
Scene 2: The Unseen Chains
Without Super Saiyan, every movement was agony.
Drill 1: Strike the Target.
A holographic dummy flickered. Gogeta lunged, fist dragging through molasses-thick air. Missed. His shoulder popped.
Dai: “Slow. Slower than my grandma’s funeral.”
Drill 2: Ki Control.
A floating orb demanded precision—a single thread of energy. Gogeta’s hands shook. His blast veered wild, scorching the wall.
Dai: “You call that focus? My cat could do better.”
Drill 3: Endure.
Gravity spiked. 600x. Gogeta’s vision tunneled. He tasted copper, felt his tendons fraying.
"Pathetic," Zephira’s voice hissed. "Weak. Broken."
Gogeta (gasping): “Shut… up.”
---
Scene 3: Fracture and Fortitude
Hour three. Gogeta collapsed, cheek pressed to the floor. His heartbeat thundered in his ears. Just rest. Just a second…
Dai’s Boot nudged his ribs: “Get up.”
Gogeta: “Can’t.”
Dai knelt, voice low: “You think I don’t know what she said to you? Zephira told me I was ‘genetic confetti’ at my first trial. Know what I did?”
A beat.
Dai: “I stole her favorite war fan and hid it in the trash compactor. Petty? Yeah. But it kept me going.”
Gogeta laughed weakly, blood bubbling on his lips.
Dai (standing): “Point is—pain’s just noise. Outscream it.”
---
Scene 4: The Breakthrough
Hour five. Gogeta’s body moved on instinct.
Strikes sharpened, cutting air with a soldier’s discipline.
Ki threads wove true, threading the orb’s core.
Gravity became a rhythm, not a enemy.
Dai watched, smirk fading. "Kid’s not just angry. He’s… recalibrating."
Then—
Gogeta’s fist connected. The dummy exploded.
Silence.
Dai: “…Okay. That was decent.”
---
Scene 5: Dawn’s Price
Morning light bled through the chamber’s vents. Gogeta lay sprawled, every cell aflame. Dai tossed him a canteen.
Dai: “Joules’ll wipe the floor with you.”
Gogeta (hoarse): “Maybe.”
Dai: “But you’ll get back up. Annoyingly.”
Gogeta’s grin was a split-lipped, bloody thing. "Always."
Epilogue: The Watchers
Zephira observed from the
surveillance hub, arms crossed. On-screen, Gogeta staggered to his feet, again and again.
A super elite (grunting): “Stubborn brat.”
Zephira (softly): “Stubborn… yes.”
Her scouter flickered. Power Level: 755,000.
A flicker of something like pride crossed her face—gone before it could settle.
