Gokus Second Son

The air turned sour that morning—thick, charged, like static crawling up my spine. I stood outside the house, hair spiking wilder than ever, jagged edges slashing the breeze. Raditz was inside, sprawled on my mat, his snores a low rumble that'd gnawed at my sleep. Goku split logs with lazy swings, Gohan thumbed through a book under Mom's hawkish glare, and Chi-Chi hollered about stains on Goku's gi. Too quiet. Too normal. Then it hit—two ki signatures blazing through the sky, close and closing fast. My gut twisted, power humming under my skin. Vegeta. Nappa. A year of grinding, and they're here.

I shut my eyes, pinning them—two fires tearing through space. Nappa's was blunt, a battering ram, clocking around 4,000, maybe more if he raged. Vegeta's cut sharper, a cold edge at 18,000, just like the old timeline. No subtlety, no mercy—they wanted Earth to quake before they landed. My nails bit into my palms, blood hot. East City. Biggest target, most bodies. I wasn't letting them turn it to ash.

"Goku!" I snapped, voice slicing the yard. He froze, axe sunk in wood, and turned with that goofy grin.

"Hey, Gotex! What's with the face? You're all grumpy again!" He scratched his head, clueless as ever.

"They're here," I said, flat. "Two Saiyans. East City. We go now."

His grin slipped, eyes narrowing as he tilted his head, feeling it too. "Whoa, you're right! That's some serious power—way bigger than Raditz was!" He dropped the axe, wood cracking, and perked up. "Guess we've got visitors!"

Raditz stumbled out, armor rattling, his long hair a dark mess as he froze, staring skyward. His face drained, voice tight. "No… that's them. Vegeta. Nappa. They're early." He swallowed hard, fists trembling. "They'll kill me. They'll kill everyone."

"Not if we hit first," I said, stepping up, hair flaring in the wind. "Get the Z Fighters. East City, before they touch down."

Goku clapped his hands, bright as ever. "Alright! Adventure time! I'll round up Piccolo and the crew—meet ya there!" He darted inside, Chi-Chi's shrieks about "more Saiyan nonsense" chasing him.

Raditz glared at me, jaw clenched. "You don't get it, kid. Vegeta's a nightmare—18,000 minimum. Nappa's no picnic either. We're screwed."

"You're at 6,000," I said, cool. "Trained with us. You're not the coward they sent. Fight Nappa, or die hiding."

He flinched, then smirked, faint and jagged. "Six thousand… yeah, I feel it. Stronger than ever. Nappa's a thug—I've got scores to settle. Fine, I'm in."

Goku burst back out, gi flapping, grinning wide. "Chi-Chi's steamed, but she'll cool off! Let's roll, boys!" He scooped Gohan up—my twin muttering about his book—and we launched, Raditz trailing like a storm cloud.

The Z Fighters linked up mid-air, ki flaring as they fell in over the plains. Piccolo's cape whipped sharp, his glare pinning Raditz. Krillin buzzed beside him, jittery but solid. Yamcha flexed, smirking through nerves. Tien's three eyes gleamed, locked on, while Chiaotzu hovered close, quiet and tense.

"More Saiyans?" Piccolo growled, eyeing Raditz. "Your pals, huh? Why aren't we blasting you instead?"

Raditz spat, hair swaying. "Not my pals. They'll gut me for failing—Vegeta doesn't do second chances. I'm here to survive, Namekian."

Krillin gulped, scratching his head. "Uh, Goku, these guys feel massive! Bigger than Raditz was—what's the play?"

"Easy!" Goku beamed, fists up. "We say hi, see what's up, and if they're jerks, we knock 'em silly!"

Tien snorted, arms crossed. "Genius. They're aiming for a city—civilians'll get mulched. We've got to move quick."

"East City's the mark," I said, voice cutting through. "We hit them at the crash. No bodies."

Yamcha grinned, cracking his knuckles. "Love it, squirt! Let's show these space clowns the Yamcha-man's got game!"

"Game's all you've got," Krillin quipped, dodging Yamcha's swipe. "But yeah, let's keep the city in one piece."

Chiaotzu spoke soft, firm. "They're strong. Really strong. No mistakes."

The sky dimmed as we closed in, East City sprawling below—towers shining, streets alive with noise. Two streaks ripped through the clouds, twin booms rattling the air as pods smashed into the pavement. Craters split wide, asphalt shattering, screams rising as people bolted. I landed first, boots grinding debris, Raditz at my side, his armor dull in the sun. Goku dropped with Gohan, the Z Fighters spreading out—Piccolo left, Yamcha and Krillin right, Tien and Chiaotzu above.

The pods hissed, hatches cracking open. Nappa lumbered out—huge, bald, a slab of muscle in scarred armor. His grin bared teeth, scouter beeping as he scanned us. Vegeta stepped out next—short, sleek, a king in black, smirk icy. His scouter flickered, locking on, and his eyes hit Raditz like a blade.

"Well, well," Vegeta drawled, voice a razor. "Raditz. Alive. I'd say impressive, but you're still a weakling."

Nappa laughed, deep and rough, popping his knuckles. "Traitor trash! Slumming with Kakarot like a beaten mutt!" His scouter beeped—6,000. His jaw dropped, eyes popping. "Six thousand?! What the—?!"

Vegeta's smirk twitched, scouter confirming. "Six thousand? Pitiful. You've wallowed with these dirt-rats and still can't muster real power. Traitor's too kind—you're a stain."

Raditz bristled, hair lashing as he stepped up. "I'm stronger than you think, Vegeta. Nappa, you're mine—I've got a year of fists with your name on 'em."

Nappa roared, charging, fist reared back. "Fists?! I'll crush you, you stringy punk!"

Raditz met him, dodging the punch and slamming an elbow into Nappa's jaw—crack!—teeth spraying red. Nappa stumbled, snarling, swinging wild, but Raditz flowed faster. He sidestepped, blasting a knee into Nappa's gut—thud!—armor buckling as the big Saiyan gagged, drool hitting the dirt. Raditz seized his head, smashing it down—boom!—pavement fracturing, Nappa's scouter sparking out.

Goku blinked, scratching his head. "Geez, Raditz! You're tough now! When'd you get so slick?"

"Training with you fools," Raditz grunted, kicking Nappa's ribs—crunch!—rolling him across the crater. "Shut it and watch."

Piccolo smirked, arms crossed. "Not bad. Maybe he's not a total waste."

Krillin cheered, fists pumping. "Yeah! Pound that bald jerk, Raditz! Earth's no doormat!"

Yamcha grinned, leaning on a wrecked car. "See? The Yamcha-man's got rivals now! That's flair!"

"Flair's all you've got," Tien shot back, three eyes tracking Nappa as he clawed up, blood streaking. "He's not out."

Nappa roared, aura flaring jagged and raw, lunging again, fists blazing. Raditz ducked, snagging Nappa's arm and wrenching it—snap!—bone popping loud. Nappa howled, but Raditz kept moving. He spun, slamming a heel into Nappa's chest—boom!—armor shattering, the big Saiyan crashing through a wall, concrete bursting in a dust cloud.

Vegeta clapped slow, mocking, smirk fixed. "Charming, Raditz. You beat the beast. Still a weakling next to me."

Raditz panted, wiping blood, glaring back. "I'm not your lapdog anymore, Vegeta."

Nappa dragged himself from the rubble, coughing, armor in tatters. "Vegeta… help me smash this trash! He's nothing!"

Vegeta's eyes flashed, cold and cruel. "Nothing? You're the one bleeding, Nappa. Useless." He raised a hand, energy snapping purple at his fingers. "Die."

A beam tore out—sharp, blinding, swallowing Nappa whole. He screamed, short and guttural, before it shredded him—armor, meat, bones—into charred dust. The air reeked of burnt metal, silence dropping hard as the Z Fighters froze, stunned.

Goku's jaw hung, then snapped shut. "Whoa… you just… zapped him! Your own guy!"

Vegeta shrugged, brushing his glove. "He failed. I don't drag trash. Unlike you, Kakarot, with your circus."

Piccolo's glare hardened, cape snapping. "Heartless. You're worse than Raditz warned."

Krillin gulped, stepping back. "Uh, yeah, this guy's psycho! Fried his buddy like it's Tuesday!"

Yamcha whistled, tense. "That's brutal. Guess the Yamcha-man's gotta bring it now, huh?"

"Bring it and get torched," Tien muttered, fists tight. "He's not joking."

Chiaotzu drifted closer to Tien, voice small. "He's meaner than Raditz. Way meaner."

Raditz spat into the ash, hair swaying. "Told you. Vegeta's a prince—blood's just paint to him."

I stepped forward, hair whipping wild, locking eyes with Vegeta. His scouter beeped—80, the same mask I'd worn since Raditz. Eighteen thousand pulsed in his veins; twenty thousand burned in mine. Closest I'd get to a real test. "You're mine," I said, voice like stone.

Vegeta laughed, sharp and bitter. "Yours? A whelp like you? Kakarot's brat, I assume. Eighty's a laugh—I could snap you with a glance."

"Try it," I said, unflinching. Eighteen's close. Let's dance.

Goku grinned, stepping up. "Hey, ease off my kid! Gotex is tough—tougher than me sometimes! What's your problem, Vegeta?"

Vegeta sneered, arms crossed. "Problem? I'm here to fix Raditz's failure. You're a Saiyan, Kakarot—born to raze, not farm with these insects. Join me, or I'll bury you all."

Goku scratched his nose, unfazed. "Nah, Earth's home. You're kinda rude, y'know?"

Piccolo snorted. "Rude's generous. He's a slaughterhouse. Let's finish this."

Krillin nodded, fists up. "Yeah! No more city-wrecking creeps! We've got this, right?"

Yamcha cracked his neck, smirking. "You bet! Time for the Yamcha special!"

"Which is losing?" Tien quipped, earning a scowl.

Vegeta's smirk stretched, aura bursting—purple, jagged, 18,000 slamming my senses. "Fools. Raditz, you're a dead traitor. Kakarot, you're a shame. And you—" he jabbed a finger at me—"you're dust. Let's see your nothing."

Raditz bristled, fists clenching, but I raised a hand, stopping him. "Stay back," I said, low. "He's mine."

Raditz blinked, then smirked, stepping aside. "Fine, kid. Don't die."

Goku tilted his head, grinning. "You sure, Gotex? He's real strong!"

"Strong's what I want," I said, hair flaring fiercer. Twenty thousand's itching. "Goku, Piccolo—flank him. Rest of you, cover. He doesn't walk out."

Piccolo smirked, cracking his knuckles. "Kid's got guts. Time to bleed, prince."

Vegeta chuckled, aura exploding—sharp, suffocating, a storm of power. "Bleed me? I'll carve you first, runt. Come on—show me your joke!"