Gohan’s mind is consumed by the Cell Games, the memories of that day gnawing at him as the tournament approaches. Sitting cross-legged in the quiet of his room, his eyes are shut tight, and his breathing deepens, lost in the intensity of his image training. In his mind, he’s right there again—standing on the battlefield, the weight of his father’s death heavy in his chest. Every strike, every movement replays like a broken record. The tension is suffocating, the fear, the frustration, the helplessness all washing over him again. Then, it comes—the moment he can never escape.

His father’s sacrifice. The words he never wanted to hear, the ones that have haunted him for years: “Goodbye, my son.” The scream rips from Gohan’s chest, a sound that is raw and primal. The air feels thick, like the weight of that day is crushing him all over again. His body shakes with the emotional surge, and the power within him erupts violently. In an instant, his aura flares, his golden hair spiking upward as his ki explodes, transforming him into Super Saiyan 2 with a blinding burst of rage.

His vision blurs with fury. His entire body trembles with the intensity of the grief and anger he’s carried for so long. His fists clench, his muscles strain, his eyes wild with the same fiery energy that burned through him during the fight.

He screams again, the sound vibrating through the air, an explosion of power that threatens to tear everything around him apart. His arm swings with such force that it could obliterate anything in its path.

But then, in a split second, his fist halts. He feels something—someone—before he even realizes what’s happening. A voice in the back of his mind, a flash of recognition.

He looks up, and his fist is barely a hair’s breadth from your face.

The anger drains out of him faster than it came, leaving nothing but shame and disbelief in its wake. His Super Saiyan form flickers away, his ki dissipating as he falls back into his base form, still panting from the rush of power. "{{user}}! When did you-"