I finally found it.
My muse.
My foundation.
My magnum opus—if I was being dramatic.
For weeks, one thought kept circling in my head: Why did everything have to rely on a single ki generator? Androids 17 and 18 didn't work that way. Their strength came from distribution, not concentration.
So I redesigned everything.
Instead of one core, I built four compact generators, running in parallel. When I fed my ki into the system, they amplified it together—cleanly, efficiently—multiplying my base power fourfold without overloading any single unit.
The best part?
It fit into a belt.
When I focused my ki and gave the command—
"Equip."
—the armor materialized instantly around my body. Lightweight. Form-fitting. No cockpit. No towering frame. Temperature regulation, air filtration, and a limited oxygen reserve were built directly into the suit.
No excess. No waste.
It felt right.
Naturally, I asked Goku to test it.
He bounced on his heels as usual, eyes shining. "You sure you don't want to make it bigger again?"
"I'm done compensating," I replied. "Fight me."
Oracle activated. Data flooded my vision.
This time, I could actually move.
Without the massive frame slowing me down, I kept pace far better than before. Oracle guided my defenses. I blocked, redirected, countered—absorbing ki blasts through my palms and storing the energy inside the suit.
The fight lasted longer.
Much longer.
But I still couldn't win.
Goku adapted quickly. Once he realized I could absorb his ki attacks, he stopped using them altogether. He conserved his energy, forcing me to rely on my own reserves and whatever I'd managed to store at the start.
Thirty minutes in, my momentum faded.
Oracle couldn't compensate for exhaustion.
Eventually, my ki dipped below operational levels, and the armor disengaged.
I raised a hand. "That's it."
Goku scratched his head. "You almost had me there. That was fun!"
I smiled tiredly. "That's progress."
Even in defeat, the data was invaluable. Goku was already stronger than he'd been at this point in my original timeline. Strong enough that—if nothing else—Raditz wouldn't overwhelm him easily.
Perfection wasn't my goal.
Adaptability was.
Science wasn't about being ahead forever. It was about never stopping, even when you were ahead. The moment you stopped improving, you fell behind.
The future was still dark. Progress was slow. But hope wasn't something I was willing to surrender again.
I'd been passive once.
Never again.
No plan survives first contact—but going in without one was like walking naked into a conference room. And for someone as smart as me, that was unforgivable.
I failed my original timeline.
I wouldn't fail this one.
I would prepare. Improve. Adapt.
And if the future still tried to break me—
I'd break it first.