When he opened his eyes, the rock before him had a perfect fist-shaped hole through it. He hadn’t moved. He hadn’t struck. But something had.
Goku woke with a jolt. He looked at his hands. Calloused. Scarred. Real.
Not sad. Not bored. Just still .
The name "Goku." The memories. The pride. The fear of losing. The hunger to be stronger.
And somewhere in that breath, the universe smiled back. Would you like a sequel where Mui Goku faces an enemy that cannot be punched, only understood?
Whis appeared beside him, holding a half-eaten pudding cup.
He flew to the mountains. No sparring partner. No enemy. No goal.
Goku blinked. “What?”