[Escarot POV]

I hit the ground.

Or at least, that’s what it felt like.

One moment I was falling—endless, weightless—and the next my senses snapped back all at once. Gravity returned. Air filled my lungs.

I inhaled sharply.

Real air.

I stayed still for a second, crouched where I landed, one hand pressed against the ground. Solid. Cool. Real.

“…I’m out,” I muttered, looking at the ceiling.

I pushed myself up slowly, muscles tensing out of habit—but there was no pain waiting for me. No lingering damage. No broken bones. No phantom agony from getting torn apart over and over again.

Just… strength.

A lot of it.

Too much of it.

I felt like a ballon about to pop. It was overwhelming the amount of power I could feel coursing through my body.

I straightened fully, rolling my shoulders, flexing my hands. My body responded instantly, no delay, no stiffness. If anything, it felt lighter. Sharper. Like everything was reacting faster than it should.

There was something else.

Something I couldn’t quite grasp.

I focused harder, closing my eyes slightly, trying to pinpoint it.

My energy wasn’t just overflowing…

It felt—

I frowned.

“…Different.”

That was the only word that fit.

I exhaled slowly.

“…Maybe I’m just tired.”

That had to be it.

I had no idea how long I’d been in there. Fighting, dying, getting torn apart, doing it all over again—it felt like it had gone on forever.

My brain probably just needed time to catch up.

“Ah, you’re awake.”

I turned.

Pybara stood a few steps away, hands resting on his staff, posture relaxed like he’d been waiting there the whole time.

Of course he had.

I stared at him for a second.

“…How long was I out?”

He tilted his head slightly, considering the question like it wasn’t as straightforward as it sounded.

“A while,” he said.

I narrowed my eyes.

“That’s not helpful.”

He smiled faintly.

“It rarely is, when it comes to matters of the spirit.”

I resisted the urge to sigh.

“Try again.”

He hummed softly.

“You were inside for six months,” he said. “Which, in terms of your body… would be closer to one year.”

I blinked.

“…What?”

That didn’t make sense.

I looked down at my hands, turning them slightly like I expected to see something different.

They looked the same.

Felt the same.

Didn’t feel like I’d been gone that long.

“And mentally…” Pybara continued, tapping his staff lightly against the ground, “that is a bit more difficult to measure.”

I looked back up at him.

“Huh?”

He smiled again.

“Perhaps a few weeks.”

I stared at him.

“…You’re joking.”

“I rarely joke about time,” he replied calmly. “It tends to confuse people more than it helps.”

That… didn’t help.

At all.

“So let me get this straight,” I said slowly. “I was in there for six months. Aged a year… But I only experienced a few weeks.”

“In a manner of speaking, yes.”

“Huh.”

Pybara’s smile didn’t change.

“Time works in many ways,” he said. “You are simply used to one of them.”

I dragged a hand down my face.

“…Great.”

Six months.

I’d been gone for six months.

That thought sat heavier than anything else.

Planet Vegeta.

The advisors.

Everything I had left behind—

I pushed that aside for now.

No point panicking about it yet.

If something had gone wrong, I’d find out soon enough.

I exhaled, trying to steady myself.

“…So, did it work?”

Pybara didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he looked at me more closely this time.

Not my body.

Not my posture.

Something deeper.

His gaze lingered for a moment longer than usual.

Then he nodded.

“Yes,” he said simply.

That was it.

No explanation.

No lecture.

Just… yes.

I frowned slightly.

“That’s it?”

He chuckled softly.

“What would you prefer? A speech?”

“…A little more detail wouldn’t hurt.”

He tilted his head again.

“You entered with a spirit that was divided,” he said. “Loud. Conflicted. Pulling in opposite directions.”

That sounded about right.

“And now?” I asked.

He tapped his staff lightly against the ground again.

“Now,” he said, “it is as it should be.”

“Glad to hear,” I replied.

Pybara watched me for a moment longer, then his expression shifted slightly—just enough to hint at amusement.

“Your companion has made considerable progress as well,” he said.

That snapped my attention back up.

“Okara?”

He nodded.

“It has been some time since you last saw her,” he added, a faint chuckle in his voice. “She has… grown.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“In what way?”

Pybara’s smile widened just a fraction.

“In several,” he said. “Power being one of them.”

I chuckled.

“That doesn’t sound reassuring.”

“It is not meant to be,” he replied calmly.

I stared at him for a second.

“…You’re implying she might beat me.”

“No, what I am saying is,” he corrected, “that she may now challenge you in ways she could not before.”

I turned my head slightly, focusing.

Okara’s ki wasn’t hard to find.

It never had been.

Loud.

Wild.

Easy to pick out in a crowd.

Except—

I froze.

“…What?”

That wasn’t right.

I focused harder, reaching out further, locking onto her presence.

It was definitely her.

Same core.

Same… feel.

But—

It wasn’t loud.

It wasn’t wild.

It didn’t spike or fluctuate the way it used to.

It was…

Steady.

Completely steady.

Flat, almost.

Not weak.

Not suppressed.

Just… controlled.

Perfectly controlled.

I frowned deeply.

“…What did you do to her?”

Pybara let out a quiet laugh.

“I did nothing,” he said. “She learned.”

“That’s not normal,” I muttered. “My Okara would never feel this calm… did you drug her?”

“No,” he shook his head. “I did not drug your friend.”

I kept feeling it, trying to make sense of what I was picking up.

Her energy didn’t feel smaller.

If anything, it felt… heavier.

More concentrated.

Like it wasn’t leaking out anymore.

Every bit of it was exactly where it needed to be.

No waste.

No excess.

No chaos.

It felt—

Oh no, this means I’m the one with less energy control now. She will never let me forget that.

“…That’s new,” I said finally.

Pybara smiled.

“It is,” he nodded.

I glanced at him.

“…I liked her better when she was loud.”

He chuckled again.

“I suspect she has not lost that aspect of herself entirely.”

“Good,” I muttered.

Because if Okara had somehow turned into a calm, collected fighter overnight, I was going to start questioning reality again.

With a sigh, I turned my attention back to her energy trying to make sense of what I was feeling from her ki, when—

Something shifted.

Not around me.

Behind me.

It wasn’t a spike.

Wasn’t a surge.

It was… absence.

One moment there was nothing there.

The next—

“There you are.”

I didn’t jump.

I didn’t flinch.

But something in me reacted anyway.

My body turned before I even thought about it, pivoting on instinct, hand already moving—

Okara stood right behind me.

Way too close.

Arms crossed.

Smug.

Very smug.

I stopped mid-motion, my hand hovering inches from her face.

“…You—”

She leaned forward just slightly, grinning.

“What? Miss me?”

I narrowed my eyes, lowering my hand slowly.

“You weren’t there a second ago, you were in the other side of the planet.”

“Observation skills, ten out of ten,” she said, clapping once, slow and sarcastic.

I didn’t smile.

Didn’t move.

I just stared at her.

“…Do it again.”

Her grin widened.

“Oh? Already impressed?”

“Do it again,” I repeated.

She rolled her shoulders lazily.

“Alright, but don’t cry when you can’t keep up.”

Then—

She vanished.

Not fast.

Not a blur.

Just—

Gone.

Like someone flipped a switch.

My eyes widened slightly.

No movement.

No travel.

No trail.

Nothing.

My senses stretched out immediately, reaching, scanning—

She reappeared to my left.

“…Behind you,” she said.

I turned again—faster this time.

She was already gone.

My instincts kicked in harder.

I expanded my awareness, trying to catch the shift, the moment, the something that had to happen when she moved—

“…Above you.”

I looked up.

Too slow.

She was already leaning over my shoulder again from behind.

“Wow,” she said, tilting her head as she looked at me. “You’re actually trying.”

I stepped away from her immediately, putting space between us.

“…Instant Transmission.”

The words came out before I even thought about them.

She blinked.

“…What?”

I stared at her.

“You’re locking onto a ki signature and moving to it instantly,” I said. “No travel time. No movement in between. Just—gone and there.”

Her expression shifted.

Not confused.

Surprised.

“…How do you know that?” she asked slowly.

I shrugged.

“Lucky guess.”

She squinted at me.

“That was way too specific to be a guess.”

“Maybe I’m just that good.”

“Bullshit.”

I smirked slightly.

She folded her arms again, tail flicking behind her in that familiar annoyed rhythm.

“…Fine,” she muttered. “Yeah. That’s basically it.”

I nodded once, more to myself than to her.

Yadrat.

Of course.

That was one of their things.

Still—

Seeing it in person was… different.

Just presence… then absence… then presence somewhere else.

Completely clean.

“…That’s broken,” I muttered.

She grinned instantly.

“I know, right?”

I looked at her again.

Really looked this time.

Her stance hadn’t changed much.

Still relaxed.

Still casual.

Still very much her.

But the difference was there.

Subtle.

In the way she stood.

In the way her energy didn’t flare out uncontrollably anymore.

In the way she moved—

No wasted motion.

No excess.

Everything… intentional.

“…You’ve changed,” I said.

She snorted.

“Wow. Took you long enough to notice, I 40% more badass now.”

“I noticed your ki first.”

“Yeah?” she raised a brow. “And?”

I hesitated for a fraction of a second.

“…It’s weird.”

She stared at me.

Then burst out laughing.

“Weird?! That’s what you went with?!”

“It is weird,” I shot back. “You’re usually loud. Like, all the time. Now you feel like—”

I gestured vaguely.

“—a monk or something.”

She gasped dramatically.

“Wow. Rude.”

“It’s accurate.”

She walked closer, stopping right in front of me.

“Oh, I’m still loud,” she said, tapping her chest. “I just don’t leak all my energy like an idiot anymore, like...” totally real cough, “an idiot in this room,”

I felt my eye twitch.

“…Was that a jab?”

She grinned.

“Oh, absolutely.”

I exhaled slowly.

“Good. Just making sure.”

She tilted her head slightly, looking me up and down.

“…You feel weird too.”

I frowned.

“Define weird.”

She squinted slightly.

“…Like you’re about to explode.”

I paused.

“…That’s not reassuring.”

She shrugged.

“Not my problem.”

I glanced down at my hand again.

“…Yeah,” I muttered. “I noticed, I got a lot of power, and my body feels great but tight.”

She circled around me slowly.

Once.

Twice.

Like she was inspecting something.

“Did you break yourself in there?” she asked.

“Probably.”

“Cool.”

She stopped in front of me again, grinning.

“…So,” she said, cracking her knuckles, “you wanna fight? Instant Transmission wasn’t the only technique I learned from these suckers,”

I blinked.

“…They had other techniques?”

She gave me a look.

“Seriously? You think a species full of weird aliens that work on their spirit all day, only had one technique?”

I stared back.

“…Fair enough.”

“Now, get ready to get your ass kicked!”