📖 CHAPTER 25 – The Unease Above
Night had already passed.
But something remained unsettled.
High above the world, beyond cloud and storm, stood the Sacred Lookout.
Upon its smooth white tiles, beneath the fading stars, the Guardian of Earth slowly opened his eyes.
Kami had been meditating when it happened.
A ripple.
Small.
Contained.
But impossibly dense.
It had not erupted across the planet.
It had not burned like demonic ki.
It had not screamed like rage.
It had folded inward.
Compressed.
Power that explodes can be sensed easily.
Power that hides must be understood.
That was what disturbed him.
---
The Moment
Hours earlier—
When the moon stood high above the ocean—
Kami felt it.
Not as a tremor in the earth.
Not as a cry of suffering.
But as a tightening in the fabric of living energy.
A pulse struck the edge of his awareness.
Brief.
Sharp.
Controlled.
The wooden staff in his hand vibrated faintly against the stone floor of the Lookout.
Kami's eyes had opened immediately.
He extended his senses outward, as he had done countless times before.
Across forests.
Over cities.
Through mountains and deserts.
He searched for destruction.
There was none.
No villages burning.
No demonic distortions.
No martial artist unleashing reckless force.
But there—
Far across the sea—
A concentration point.
A small island.
A turtle-shaped house.
Three young martial artists.
And one energy signature that had changed.
---
Observation
Kami narrowed his gaze.
The old master slept loudly.
The bald boy stirred restlessly.
The cheerful tailed child curled comfortably on his side.
And then—
There was you.
Your Ki was calm.
Perfectly calm.
Too calm.
It lay smooth on the surface, as if undisturbed by anything unusual.
But beneath that surface—
Layered density.
Compressed force.
Like a mountain hidden under shallow water.
Kami leaned slightly forward.
"That is not the growth of ordinary training," he murmured.
Humans improved gradually.
He had watched them for centuries.
Slow refinement.
Incremental strength.
Even prodigies followed a rhythm.
This presence had leaped.
Then deliberately suppressed the leap.
That suppression required awareness.
Control.
Intention.
---
Not Darkness
"It is not evil," he whispered to himself.
Demonic energy twisted.
It felt jagged, distorted, hungry.
This did not.
This felt… reorganized.
As though something inside the mortal had rewritten itself.
Kami closed his eyes again and replayed the pulse in his memory.
It had not felt like rage.
Not desperation.
Not fear.
It felt purposeful.
Chosen.
And that made it more troubling.
Power gained through accident can be corrected.
Power gained through intent reveals direction.
---
Mr. Popo's Quiet Question
Behind him, without sound, stood Mr. Popo.
"You sensed it," Popo said softly.
Kami nodded once.
"A change."
"In the one training under the Turtle Hermit?"
"Yes."
Popo folded his hands calmly.
"Is it dangerous?"
Kami did not answer immediately.
He reached outward again, carefully, gently, not pushing too hard. His divine perception was wide—but not infinite. He could not see every detail of a mortal's body. He could only feel the resonance of their life energy.
Yours was steady.
Controlled.
Disciplined.
There was no malice in it.
No thirst for destruction.
But there was ambition.
Sharp and focused.
"…Not dangerous," Kami finally replied.
"Yet."
Popo tilted his head slightly.
"You fear what it may become."
Kami did not deny it.
---
The Nature of Unease
Kami had watched warriors rise before.
He had observed masters train students.
He had seen tournaments where strength shocked the world.
But this felt different.
Not because of scale.
But because of acceleration.
Growth should follow effort.
Effort should follow time.
But your energy suggested a shortcut.
An internal shift.
As if the body itself had evolved in a single night.
Kami's fingers tightened around his staff.
"A mortal who can alter his own limits…"
He let the sentence trail off.
Such ability could elevate Earth.
Or destabilize it.
And Kami's role was balance.
Not suppression.
Not domination.
Balance.
---
The Temptation to Test
He considered descending.
Not openly.
Not dramatically.
But quietly.
To observe more closely.
Perhaps to apply a faint spiritual pressure—just enough to see how the mortal reacted.
Would you panic?
Would you lash out?
Would you resist?
But Kami hesitated.
Interference creates ripples.
And if the growth truly was controlled, testing it too early might provoke exactly what he feared.
He exhaled slowly.
"No," he said at last.
"We will not interfere."
Mr. Popo nodded.
"Observation only."
"For now."
---
Morning Breaks
The horizon began to glow faintly.
Sunlight crept across the ocean.
On the island below, the small house stirred.
You opened your eyes.
Your body felt heavier.
Denser.
Every movement more deliberate.
When you sat up, the wooden floorboards creaked slightly beneath the subtle increase in your weight—not bulk, but compression.
Across the room, Son Goku stretched widely.
"Whoa! I feel great today!"
He grinned without knowing why.
Krillin groaned and buried his face in his blanket.
From another room, the old master shouted for breakfast.
Normal.
Everything appeared normal.
But high above—
Kami continued watching.
---
A Guardian's Reflection
He stepped to the edge of the Lookout.
Clouds drifted far below.
The world rotated peacefully.
He had once been human.
He understood ambition.
He understood the desire to grow stronger.
That alone was not a sin.
What unsettled him was speed.
Speed invites imbalance.
And imbalance invites conflict.
Still—
He sensed no darkness in you.
Only preparation.
As if you were bracing for something unseen.
That thought lingered with him.
Preparing for what?
Kami did not know of alien races.
He did not know of distant conquerors.
His knowledge was bound to Earth and its spiritual cycles.
But instinct told him this:
The mortal below was not growing randomly.
He was growing with direction.
---
Final Thought
The sun fully rose.
Light bathed the Lookout.
Kami closed his eyes once more.
"If this continues," he murmured softly,
"the Earth may gain a protector unlike any before."
His grip tightened slightly.
"Or a force beyond my ability to guide."
He did not fear you.
Not yet.
But for the first time in many years—
The Guardian of Earth felt uncertain.
And uncertainty, to a being of balance—
Was the beginning of vigilance.
---