Dragon Ball: Unlocked [Fanfic]

[TenaciousJay002]

He was older than the mountains. He was a sea of endless, roaring light. He held the stars in his hands, and when he breathed, the fabric of the universe trembled. He was vast, boundless, and untouchable, drifting through a void that felt like a familiar childhood home.

Then, a giant, steaming roast pork bun floated past the nearest galaxy.

Son Goku's eyes snapped open.

He sat up, blinking against the morning sunlight filtering through the gaps in the wooden roof of his small hut. His stomach let out a thunderous, echoing growl that startled a flock of birds in the trees outside.

Goku rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands, his messy, gravity-defying black hair rustling. He felt strange. His chest was warm, as if he had swallowed a mouthful of hot tea that refused to cool down. For a split second, looking at the dust motes dancing in the sunbeams, he expected the air to bend to his will. He expected to float.

He pushed off the bed and landed on the wooden floor with a solid, heavy thud. He didn't float.

"Weird dream," Goku mumbled, scratching his furry, brown tail. "I guess I'm just really hungry."

He bounded out of bed, grabbing his blue gi and tying the white obi around his waist. He bowed respectfully to the small shrine in the corner of the room, where the amber, four-starred glass ball rested on a cushion.

"Morning, Grandpa!" Goku chirped cheerfully. "I had a super weird dream last night. I was really, really big. Like, bigger than the sky! But I didn't have any food, so it wasn't a very good dream. I'm gonna go catch breakfast now!"

Stepping out into the wild, untamed wilderness of Mount Paozu, Goku took a deep breath of the crisp morning air. This was his world. He knew every tree, every river, and every beast that roamed these woods. But today, the air felt... different. As he moved into his morning martial arts katas—the stances his Grandpa Gohan had drilled into him—his body moved with a fluid grace that surprised him.

He threw a punch.

For a fraction of a second, an image flashed in his mind: a fist colliding with something so hard it shattered the sky. His small arm snapped forward, and a sharp gust of wind blasted from his knuckles, violently rustling the leaves of a tree twenty feet away.

Goku blinked, looking at his fist. A sudden, sharp ache shot through his shoulder and down his spine, forcing him to wince. He rubbed his arm, rotating it.

"Ow. Pulled a muscle," he muttered, shaking his head. His small, biological body was strong, incredibly so for a child, but it felt strangely restrictive this morning. Like wearing a shirt that was two sizes too small. He didn't dwell on it. His stomach roared again, demanding immediate attention. "Right! Fish!"

A short time later, Goku was sitting on a log by the river, his tail dangling in the water acting as a lure. He hummed a tuneless song, waiting patiently.

Splash.

The water erupted as a massive, saber-toothed fish lunged from the depths, jaws snapping shut where Goku's tail had been just a millisecond before. But Goku was already in the air.

He didn't just jump; he moved with an instinctual, terrifying precision. He spun, his foot connecting with the giant fish's skull. He expected the usual heavy resistance of the beast's thick scales, but instead, an unconscious surge of energy rippled from his core to his heel. The impact was explosive. The giant fish was launched onto the riverbank, out cold before it even hit the dirt.

Goku landed softly, panting slightly. That strange heat in his chest flared again, making his heart race. He felt dizzy for a brief moment, a wave of exhaustion washing over him.

"Whoa," he said, shaking his head to clear it. "I must be stronger today. Or maybe you're just getting lighter, Mr. Fish!"

He hoisted the massive creature onto his back with a cheerful grin, his temporary fatigue forgotten at the prospect of a good meal. He began the trek back to his hut, whistling.

He didn't make it far before he heard the monster.

It sounded like a dying beast—a loud, sputtering roar accompanied by the crunching of underbrush. Goku stopped, his ears twitching. He dropped the fish, dropping into a low, defensive stance.

Bursting through the tree line was a strange, shiny, blue metallic creature. It had two glowing eyes at the front and was moving fast, barreling straight toward him.

"A monster!" Goku yelled. "I won't let you eat me!"

He didn't run. Instead, he braced his legs, digging his bare feet into the dirt. As the metallic beast bore down on him, Goku reached out and grabbed it by its front snout.

The momentum of the machine clashed against the boy. Metal groaned and crumpled under Goku's hands. Deep within him, the dormant, boundless ocean of his soul stirred. A flash of pure, golden heat ignited in his blood. With a mighty shout, Goku lifted the entire machine—a fully functional Renault 5 Turbo—over his head and threw it backward.

The car crashed into the dirt, smoking and hissing.

Goku dropped to his knees, gasping for air. His muscles screamed in protest, his bones aching with a deep, vibrating pain. He had drawn on something too deep, too vast, and his small body was violently rejecting the strain. He gritted his teeth, waiting for the burning in his arms to subside.

"Hey! What is the matter with you?!"

Goku looked up. The side of the metal monster had opened, and out stepped a human.

She was a girl, maybe a few years older than him, with bright turquoise hair tied in a braid, wearing a pink dress with her name—BULMA—written across it. She looked furious, terrified, and utterly bewildered all at once.

"Are you a goblin?!" Bulma shrieked, pointing at him. "You just wrecked my car! Do you know how much this costs?!"

Goku tilted his head, his innocent eyes wide. The pain in his arms was fading, replaced by intense curiosity. "You... you were inside the monster's belly? Did it eat you?"

"Monster? It's a car, you uneducated little brat!" Bulma stomped her foot, but then she noticed the tail swishing behind him. Her eyes widened in horror. "A tail... you are a monster!"

She reached into her capsule case, pulled out a Capsule Corporation 9mm handgun, and aimed it squarely at him. "Stay back! I'm armed!"

Goku stood up, confused. "What's that? A weird stick?"

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Bulma squeezed the trigger. The bullets flew toward Goku. Before he could consciously think, his instincts took over. He didn't dodge; instead, he raised his arms to protect his face. A microscopic, invisible layer of ki—an automatic defense mechanism from a soul that refused to be pierced by primitive weaponry—flared just beneath his skin.

The bullets struck his forehead and arms. They stung like angry hornets, but they flattened on impact, dropping harmlessly to the grass.

"Ouch!" Goku yelped, rubbing his forehead. He glared at her. "Hey! That really hurt! Why did you do that?!"

Bulma dropped the gun, her jaw hitting the floor. She stared at the flattened bullets, then at the boy, who was merely rubbing a small red welt on his head. "You... you're not dead? You're not even bleeding!"

"Why would I be dead? You just threw really fast pebbles at me!" Goku reached behind his back and unsheathed his Power Pole, pointing it at her. "Grandpa told me to be careful around girls! Are you a witch? Do you use dark magic?"

"A witch?!" Bulma stammered, finally finding her voice. Her brilliant, calculating mind raced to process the impossibility of the situation. A boy with a tail. A boy who threw a car. A boy who took a bullet to the head and only complained about the sting.

Slowly, she raised her hands in surrender, forcing a nervous, charming smile onto her face. "Okay, okay! Truce! I'm not a witch. I'm a human! My name is Bulma. What's your name, little guy?"

Goku lowered his pole slightly, sniffing the air. She didn't smell like a monster. "I'm Son Goku. And I'm not little!"

"Right. Goku." Bulma sighed, looking at her ruined car. "Well, Goku, since you destroyed my ride, the least you can do is invite me inside for some tea. I've been traveling all day."

Inside the small, rustic hut, Bulma sat on a wooden stool, sipping lukewarm water while Goku ravenously devoured his roasted giant fish, bones and all. She watched him with a mixture of disgust and utter fascination.

"So," Bulma said, setting her cup down. "You live here all by yourself?"

"Yep!" Goku said around a mouthful of fish. "Grandpa Gohan used to live here with me, but he died a long time ago. Now it's just me and him." He pointed a greasy finger toward the shrine in the corner.

Bulma's eyes followed his finger, and she instantly froze.

Resting on the velvet cushion, glowing with a faint, otherworldly inner light, was a pristine, orange sphere with four red stars suspended inside.

"A Dragon Ball!" Bulma gasped, leaping out of her seat. She ran over to the shrine, her eyes shining with greed. "I can't believe it! It's the Four-Star Ball!"

"Hey! Don't touch my Grandpa!" Goku barked, dropping his fish and stepping between Bulma and the shrine. His protective instincts flared.

"Your Grandpa?" Bulma gave him a flat look. "Goku, that's a ball. It's made of a polymer-like resin that emits a low-level electromagnetic pulse. It's not a person."

"It is my Grandpa!" Goku insisted stubbornly. "He left it to me before he died!"

Bulma sighed, rubbing her temples. Dealing with this backwoods kid was going to require some finesse. She reached into her bag and pulled out two identical spheres—one with two stars, and one with five.

Goku's eyes widened in amazement. "Whoa! You have Grandpas too?"

"They aren't Grandpas!" Bulma groaned. "Listen to me, Goku. Have you ever heard the legend of the Dragon Balls?"

Goku shook his head, his tail swishing behind him.

"There are seven of these spheres scattered across the world," Bulma explained, her voice taking on a theatrical, excited tone. "When you gather all seven together and say the magic words, the eternal dragon, Shenron, will appear! And he will grant you any one wish your heart desires! After the wish is made, the balls scatter back across the world, waiting to be found again."

Goku stared at her, trying to process the information. A magic dragon? Wishes? It sounded like a fairy tale. But as he looked at the glowing orbs, a strange sense of familiarity washed over him. A fragmented memory—not of a dragon, but of vast, golden spheres the size of planets floating in a dark sky—flickered in the back of his mind. The feeling was accompanied by a deep, resonant hum in his very soul.

He blinked, breaking the trance. "So? What do you want to wish for? Lots of food?"

"Food? Don't be ridiculous!" Bulma scoffed. "I'm going to wish for the perfect boyfriend! Someone handsome, rich, and totally devoted to me!"

Goku picked his nose, looking unimpressed. "That sounds boring. Why don't you wish to be stronger?"

"Because I have science for that," she replied smugly. She leaned in closer, batting her eyelashes. "Look, Goku. I need your ball to make my wish. Can I have it? I'll let you touch my... um... never mind. Just give it to me."

"No." Goku crossed his arms. "It's my Grandpa."

Bulma gritted her teeth. She could try to steal it, but she remembered how he had thrown her car. That wasn't an option. She needed a different angle. She looked at the boy—incredibly strong, fearless, and utterly clueless about the outside world. He would make the perfect bodyguard.

"Okay, how about a compromise?" Bulma smiled sweetly. "I'm traveling the world to find the rest of the Dragon Balls. It's a big, dangerous world out there. Lots of strong monsters, tough martial artists, and bad guys. You like fighting, don't you?"

Goku's ears perked up. "Strong guys? Really?"

"Oh, absolutely!" Bulma nodded enthusiastically. "The strongest! If you come with me and lend me your ball—just to summon the dragon, you can have it right back afterward—you'll get to travel, see the world, and fight all sorts of amazing people! Doesn't that sound fun?"

Goku looked at the Four-Star ball. He had lived on Mount Paozu his entire life. He loved it here. But suddenly, looking out the open door of the hut, the forest felt incredibly small. A profound, inexplicable longing swelled inside his chest. It wasn't just the curiosity of a child; it was the quiet yearning of a dormant soul that had once known the entirety of creation, craving to step out into the vastness of the universe once more.

He didn't understand the feeling. He just knew he couldn't stay here anymore.

"Okay!" Goku grinned, his innocence shining through. He grabbed the Four-Star ball and tossed it into the air, catching it easily. "I'll go with you! It sounds like a great adventure!"

Bulma pumped her fist in the air. "Yes! Perfect! Grab your things, monkey boy. We're leaving immediately."

Ten minutes later, Goku stood outside his home, a small bindle tied to his back and the red Power Pole strapped across his shoulder. Bulma had produced a small capsule, clicked the button on top, and thrown it to the ground. With a loud POOF and a cloud of smoke, a sleek, two-wheeled Capsule Corp motorcycle appeared.

Goku gasped, jumping back. "Magic! You are a witch!"

"It's science, you country bumpkin!" Bulma laughed, straddling the bike and revving the engine. "Hop on! And hold tight!"

Goku climbed onto the back of the bike, wrapping his small arms awkwardly around her waist. As the engine roared and the motorcycle tore down the mountain path, kicking up a cloud of dust, Goku looked up at the bright blue sky.

He didn't know what a Dragon Ball truly was. He didn't know who Shenron was. He certainly didn't know the terrifying, beautiful, and cosmic truths that slept soundly within his own soul, waiting for the right moment to awaken.

All Son Goku knew was that the wind was in his hair, he was traveling with a strange new friend, and the world was full of strong people waiting to be fought.

And for now, that was perfectly enough.

 

[TenaciousJay002]

The world was moving faster than Son Goku had ever seen it move.

Trees, rocks, and winding rivers blurred into streaks of green, gray, and blue. The wind whipped fiercely against his face, pulling his spiky black hair straight back. He clung to Bulma's waist, fascinated by the loud, rumbling mechanical beast they were riding. It vibrated with a steady, rhythmic pulse that was entirely different from the erratic heartbeat of the wild animals he was used to.

"Hey!" Goku shouted over the roar of the motorcycle's engine. "How long can this monster run without eating?!"

Bulma glanced at him through the motorcycle's rearview mirrors, her turquoise eyes rolling behind her goggles. "It's not a monster, Goku! It's a machine! It runs on gasoline, not meat! And don't squeeze so tight, you're crushing my ribs!"

Goku loosened his grip slightly, looking down at his hands. His knuckles were still slightly red from where he had punched the giant fish earlier, but the deeper ache—the vibrating, hollow pain in his bones from throwing the metal car—lingered. It was a completely foreign sensation. His Grandpa Gohan had trained his body to be as tough as iron. He had chopped trees with his bare hands and crushed boulders with his kicks. He rarely ever felt sore.

But today, whenever that strange, golden heat flared in his chest, his body felt like a dam trying to hold back a tidal wave.

If I want to throw more cars, Goku thought with simple, childlike logic, I guess my arms just need to get thicker.

After another hour of navigating the treacherous, winding paths of the mountain range, Bulma finally squeezed the brakes. The motorcycle slowed to a halt in a small clearing near a steep cliff face. The sun was beginning its slow descent, painting the sky in vibrant shades of orange and purple.

"Alright, break time," Bulma declared, swinging her leg over the seat and stretching her arms with a loud groan. "My back is killing me. We need to check our coordinates."

Goku hopped off, his tail swishing lazily. He bounded over to a nearby patch of grass and began doing rapid handstand push-ups. "Why are we stopping? Are there strong guys here?"

"Not everything is about fighting," Bulma muttered, reaching into her satchel. She pulled out a small, circular device with a grid on its glass face and a single button on the top. "We're stopping because I need to check the Dragon Radar."

Goku flipped back onto his feet, peering over her shoulder. "The Dragon what?"

"Radar. It tracks the electromagnetic frequency emitted by the Dragon Balls." Bulma pressed the button at the top. The device let out a sharp bleep, and the screen illuminated with a soft green glow. A sweeping line rotated around the center, revealing three glowing yellow dots.

Two of the dots were right in the center, overlapping.

"See?" Bulma pointed at the center. "Those two dots are my balls. The Two-Star and Five-Star." She tapped another dot, slightly off-center. "And that one is yours, the Four-Star ball in my bag."

Goku tilted his head, staring at the screen with intense fascination. "Wow... how did you trap the fireflies in the little glass circle? Do you feed them leaves?"

Bulma slowly turned her head, giving him a look of profound exhaustion. "Goku. It's a screen. It's technology. There are no fireflies."

Before she could explain the concept of microchips to a boy who thought a car was a wild animal, a massive shadow suddenly plunged the clearing into darkness.

A rush of foul-smelling wind nearly knocked Bulma off her feet. Goku's instincts flared instantly. The hair on his arms stood on end. He didn't just hear the creature; he felt the displacement of the air, the heavy, predatory intent crashing down from the sky.

"Look out!" Goku shoved Bulma backward just as a pair of massive, leathery talons slammed into the dirt where she had been standing.

A colossal prehistoric beast—a terrifying amalgamation of a pterodactyl and a gargoyle—loomed over them. Its wingspan was easily thirty feet wide, and its beady, yellow eyes locked onto Bulma.

"A tasty little human!" the beast screeched, its voice like grinding rocks. "You'll make a perfect appetizer for my hatchlings!"

Bulma screamed, scrambling backward until her back hit the trunk of a tree. "A talking dinosaur?! This place is a nightmare!"

"Hey!" Goku stepped forward, planting his feet firmly in the dirt. He reached behind his back, his hand wrapping around the familiar, worn wood of the Power Pole. "You can't eat her! She's my ride!"

The beast sneered, snapping its massive, razor-sharp beak. "Out of my way, runt, or I'll eat you too!"

With a powerful flap of its wings, the beast launched itself off the ground, diving straight toward Bulma at terrifying speed.

Time seemed to slow down for Goku.

As the beast dove, Goku prepared to intercept it. He bent his knees, intending to jump up and strike it with his staff. But in that split second, the deep, dormant ocean of his soul stirred.

A fragment of a memory—so ancient and vast it defied comprehension—flashed across his mind's eye. It wasn't a thought, but a sensation. The sensation of existing in three dimensions, of moving through a frictionless void where up and down were meaningless. He felt the phantom memory of shifting his weight not against the earth, but against the very fabric of space itself.

His body tried to replicate the impossible movement.

Unconsciously, a dense, terrifying surge of ki flooded into his calves. It was only a microscopic fraction of the entity's power, but for a biological seven-year-old Saiyan body, it was like trying to funnel a hurricane through a garden hose.

Crack.

The ground beneath Goku's bare feet shattered, spiderwebbing outward in a ten-foot crater.

Goku shot upward like a cannonball. He didn't just jump; he tore through the air, breaking the sound barrier with a sharp CRACK that made Bulma cover her ears. The sheer velocity was so intense that the wind sheared the bark off the nearby trees.

He appeared directly above the diving pterodactyl. The beast's yellow eyes widened in shock, unable to comprehend how the tiny morsel had suddenly materialized thirty feet in the air above it.

"Power Pole, extend!" Goku yelled.

The red staff shot outward, striking the beast squarely on the top of its skull with a sickening crunch. The monster's eyes rolled back into its head. Its momentum completely halted by the staggering force of the blow, it plummeted out of the sky, crashing into the forest canopy far below.

Gravity reclaimed Goku. He fell back toward the earth, landing lightly on his feet in the center of the crater he had just created.

He stood up straight, offering Bulma a cheerful thumbs-up. "Got him!"

But the moment he smiled, his legs gave out.

Goku collapsed onto his knees with a sharp gasp. A blinding, searing pain shot up both of his legs, burning like white-hot coals from his ankles to his hips. His muscles spasmed violently, twitching under his skin.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow!" Goku yelped, clutching his legs and rolling onto his back in the dirt. "That hurts! What happened to my legs?!"

Bulma, who was still trembling against the tree, slowly lowered her hands. She looked at the massive crater in the solid rock, then at the sky where the monster had been, and finally at the small boy writhing on the ground.

"Goku..." she whispered, her voice shaking. "What... what did you just do? You jumped... you flew! You broke the ground!"

"I don't know!" Goku whined, rubbing his aching calves. The pain was already beginning to recede, his extraordinary Saiyan biology rapidly repairing the micro-tears in his muscles, but the shock of the strain remained. "I just wanted to jump high, but my legs pushed too hard! It felt like they were on fire!"

He sat up, panting slightly, and looked at his hands.

I need to get stronger, Goku realized, a profound sense of clarity piercing through his childish innocence. If I can't even jump like that without hurting myself, I can't fight the really strong guys.

The power was there. He could feel it now, a vast, sleeping giant resting deep within his chest. But his body was just a fragile shell. If he tried to force the giant awake too early, it would tear the shell apart.

"Okay," Bulma said, taking a deep, shuddering breath and dusting off her dress. "Okay. You're an abnormal freak of nature. That's fine. I can work with that. In fact, that's exactly what I need. But we are done traveling for the day. I need a bath, and you need to rest those freakish legs of yours."

Goku scrambled to his feet, testing his weight. They still throbbed, but they could hold him. "Are we sleeping in the dirt? I usually sleep in my bed."

"Do I look like a girl who sleeps in the dirt?" Bulma scoffed. She walked to an open patch of flat land and pulled another capsule from her case—this one labeled with the number 9. She tossed it onto the ground.

POOF!

A massive cloud of pink smoke erupted. When it cleared, a smooth, dome-shaped house with large glass windows and a sturdy metal door sat in the middle of the wilderness.

Goku's jaw unhinged. He rubbed his eyes, slapped his own cheeks, and stared at the house. "You... you grew a house! From a seed!"

"Capsule technology, Goku. Welcome to the modern world," Bulma said with a smug smile, unlocking the front door. "Come on inside. I have food."

Goku didn't need to be told twice.

Later that night, after Goku had consumed a volume of food that made Bulma physically dizzy to watch—three plates of spaghetti, an entire roasted turkey from the stasis fridge, two loaves of bread, and a gallon of milk—he lay sprawled out on the soft, carpeted floor of the living room.

Bulma had offered him the couch, but Goku preferred the floor. It felt more like the earth.

The lights in the capsule house were dimmed. Outside, the crickets chirped in the dark wilderness of Mount Paozu, a familiar, comforting sound. But as Goku drifted off to sleep, his mind began to detach from the physical world.

The transition wasn't smooth. It felt like falling backward into a bottomless well of light.

In the dream, there was no air, no gravity, and no earth. There was only a canvas of absolute black, dotted with billions of tiny, glittering specks of light.

Goku was not a boy here. He had no form, no tail, no physical boundaries. He was simply an awareness, drifting through the cosmos. He felt an immense, ancient tranquility. This was his true domain. This was where he belonged.

He watched as a cluster of stars ignited, bursting into a brilliant nebula of pink and gold gas. It was beautiful. He reached out with an invisible hand to touch it, feeling the raw, atomic heat of creation brushing against his soul.

But then, a shadow fell over the stars.

It wasn't a physical shadow, but a conceptual one. A feeling of profound, echoing emptiness. The tranquility shattered. A violent, cataclysmic force rippled through the void—a memory of a battle so destructive it had torn the fabric of reality itself. A memory of his soul breaking, fracturing into countless pieces like a shattered mirror falling through the dimensions.

He felt himself falling. Falling out of the cosmos, down, down, down into a tiny, fragile, flesh-and-blood vessel.

Goku gasped, his eyes snapping open.

He sat up in the dark living room, his chest heaving, his body covered in a cold sweat. The digital clock on the capsule house wall glowed a soft green: 3:14 AM.

He placed a trembling hand over his heart. It was beating frantically, a rapid drum against his ribs. The fear he had felt in the dream was foreign to him. Son Goku wasn't afraid of anything. But whatever that memory was, it had shaken him to his core.

He looked out the large glass window at the starry night sky.

The stars looked smaller now. Farther away.

Goku tightened his fists. He didn't understand the dream. He didn't know what it meant to have a fractured soul, or what had caused the shadow in the void. But as his fear subsided, it was quickly replaced by something else, something deeply ingrained in his Saiyan biology and his boundless spirit.

Excitement.

"There's something really big out there," Goku whispered into the quiet room, a fierce, determined grin spreading across his face. "And I'm gonna be strong enough to fight it."