Above the scorched earth, a titanic struggle raged. On the left, Aira, fueled by righteous fury; on the right, Rhode, exhilarated by the unleashed thrill of battle. Their twin Kamehamehas, born of the same technique, clashed in a searing contest of pure will and power. Neither held back, pouring every ounce of their might into the beams.
"RAAAAAGH!"
Their combined roars split the air as torrents of energy surged from their bodies. Rhode's power, having skyrocketed past six thousand after his brutal training, should have held an overwhelming advantage. Yet, in the initial moment of collision, Aira—her own power freshly forged in the crucible of betrayal and near-death—held firm. Her beam, blazing with a potency far beyond her previous limits, met his in a dazzling, straining deadlock.
"HA!"
With a final, guttural shout, Rhode tapped into a deeper reserve. His output spiked violently. The fragile equilibrium shattered. His Kamehameha, now a torrent of unstoppable force, bulldozed through Aira's defense and hurtled toward her.
BOOM!
The world turned white with the impact. Violent energy swallowed Aira's form in a cataclysmic eruption that shook the very bedrock.
"Whew..."
Breathing heavily in the suddenly quiet sky, Rhode let his heightened emotions settle. His gaze remained fixed on the dissipating cloud of dust and smoke below.
Whoosh.
A gust of wind cleared the view. There stood Aira—battered, her battle suit torn, streaks of blood marring her skin, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her aura was diminished, weak. But her eyes... her eyes were terrifyingly alive, blazing with a fierce, thrilling light. The defeat had not broken her; it had ignited her.
"Well done," Rhode said, a note of genuine approval in his voice. His satisfaction stemmed not from her survival, but from her split-second decision. In the final instant before his beam struck, she hadn't tried to block it head-on. Instead, she had detonated its leading edge with a precise counter-pulse, dispersing the majority of its destructive force. It was a clever, tactical move that had turned a potentially crippling blow into a manageable injury.
What truly intrigued him, however, was the sheer scale of her power increase. Her accumulation of training was less than his, yet her near-death surge had been proportionally greater. The key difference, he theorized, was the context: she had faced a genuine, shocking betrayal and the visceral terror of imminent death. His own near-death experiences had been clinical, self-administered, and devoid of that emotional and survivalist shock. The "bug" in their Saiyan biology, it seemed, was sensitive to more than just physical trauma.
"Hmph!" Aira snorted, turning her head away with exaggerated pride, though the thrill of her newfound strength was evident in the set of her shoulders. In just these few months on Earth, she had gained more power than in all her previous years. The proof was undeniable, even if the method had been infuriating.
"However," Rhode continued, his tone shifting to one of stern critique, "the fact that I managed to ambush you so completely in the first place is unacceptable. A lack of constant vigilance is a fatal flaw."
The good mood evaporated from Aira's face instantly. She whipped back around, baring her teeth in a snarl. "Rhode, you complete bastard!" she spat. Then, with a feral grin that promised retribution, she added, "You'd better sleep with one eye open from now on. I will pay you back for this ambush. Sooner or later." The threat hung in the air, not as the rant of a sore loser, but as the solemn vow of a rival who had just been shown a new horizon of power—and a new reason to fight.
Rhode met Aira's threat with an unconcerned smirk. "Anytime. But you should know, you'll never get the chance in this lifetime."
There was no misplaced sentimentality between Saiyans. Aira's earlier vulnerability wasn't born of trust, but of a lapse in vigilance, her focus hijacked by the tantalizing promise of immense power. While a prolonged stay on Earth might one day soften her ruthless edges, for now, such 'superfluous' emotions were absent. Her venomous reaction was exactly what Rhode expected. As for ambushes? He genuinely welcomed them. They would be excellent training for his reflexive instincts.
Seeing her threats glance off him, Aira gritted her teeth, a silent vow cementing itself in her heart: she would train relentlessly, surpass him, and make him pay. But for now, victory was out of reach. Suppressing her fury, she stalked over to him, her face cold, and thrust out her hand. "Give me one of those beans."
"No."
The refusal was instant.
"You—!" she sputtered, her face flushing.
"Your minor injuries don't merit a Senzu Bean," Rhode stated, his tone matter-of-fact. "Heal on your own."
That infuriating jerk! Aira glared, her hand stubbornly remaining outstretched. "I'm not eating it now. I'm keeping it for later."
Rhode considered this for a moment, then reached into his pocket. He placed two Senzu Beans into her waiting palm. "These are for life-or-death situations. Use them wisely."
Clutching the beans, Aira shot him one final, scorching glare before launching into the sky. She streaked toward West City, aiming for the healing chamber in their ship—her pride wouldn't allow her to recover slowly in front of him.
Still so ill-tempered, Rhode mused, watching her go. Clearly, she hasn't been disciplined enough. He was mildly annoyed that his help—both the power boost and the priceless beans—had been met with nothing but glares. She needed more… structured guidance. But he also knew reshaping a Saiyan's core nature was a long-term project, not a quick fix.
Shaking his head, Rhode didn't follow. Instead, he remained hovering in the air, closing his eyes. His power had surged wildly; he needed to reassert perfect control, to compress that raging torrent back into a state of imperceptible calm. For several days, he meditated in the barren sky, meticulously refining his ki until his battle power once again read a mere, deceptive 'four' to any external sensor.
Only then, his control perfected anew, did he finally stir. With a determined flash in his eyes, he turned and sped toward West City. It was time to test the limits of Dr. Brief's creation—the Gravity Chamber awaited.