Chapter 7
"Mark, it's really important that you breathe properly," said Goku, hovering nearby, a box of pizza in hand. The Saiyan seemed unaffected by the cold, his aura providing an invisible shield against the elements. He was surrounded by a halo of pizzas—cheese stretching with each bite, steam rising into the frigid air. They had been on the mountain for eight hours, and Goku had been eating almost constantly since they arrived.
"Meditation is not just about enduring the cold," Goku continued, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "It's about finding inner peace and clarity in any situation."
Perched on the freezing peak, Mark couldn't help but feel misplaced. He had come seeking Goku's tutelage, expecting a regimen of intense physical training to enhance his strength, speed, and combat techniques. He had envisioned himself becoming a powerhouse, much like Owl-Man, his beloved vigilant from the FC Universe comic books. Yet, here he was, expected to meditate rather than train for the inevitable Viltrumite confrontation.
Finally Mark found himself speaking "Um... Goku, I get that meditation is important, but are we going to start the actual fighting lessons any time soon?" Mark asked, his teeth chattering uncontrollably. An image of the warm arctic outfit his mother, Debbie, had offered him flashed in his mind, bringing a pang of regret for not accepting it.
With a thoughtful look, Goku set aside his pizza and contemplated Mark's question. The purpose of the meditation was to cultivate a calm, focused mind, which could significantly enhance one's attention and control over their energy, or ki, during battle.
He had hoped that if Mark could tap into his focus in this unforgiving environment, he would find it easier to concentrate during their more physical training sessions. However, Mark's restlessness was palpable; he was waiting for the storm to pass so he could move on to the tangible aspects of combat.
Throughout the day, Goku had been trying to guide Mark in the ways of ki—explaining how to channel the life energy within him. It was a cornerstone of Goku's own strength and one of the secrets to the incredible powers he wielded. To Goku's surprise, Mark hadn't shown even the slightest hint of ki production. It was as if the Viltrumite had never been taught to tap into that essential force.
Goku sighed. Time was indeed of the essence, and they couldn't afford to waste a moment. With a snap of his fingers, the remnants of their meal—empty boxes and uneaten slices—vanished, whisked away by some unseen force.
"It doesn't seem like you'll be using ki just yet," Goku said, settling down next to Mark.
"I've heard you can train me on that," Mark said, turning to face Goku. "You said that i can make laser beams with my hands, right?" His eyes lit up with excitement as he recalled witnessing Goku obliterate a mountain with a mere flick of his wrist—a spectacle that had caused a national sensation in China.
"Yup," Goku replied, a nostalgic smile playing on his lips as he remembered the early days of his training with Krillin and Master Roshi at the Turtle School, where they lived by the simple creed: train hard, sleep well, and eat plenty.
It was a sobering moment for Mark, learning that mastering the control of ki had taken Goku two years. The understanding that he wouldn't be able to unleash powerful energy blasts at the Viltrumites anytime soon was a bitter pill to swallow.
"Don't fret, Mark. I know you're in a hurry so, let's get to martial arts training," Goku suggested, standing up and offering his hand to help Mark rise.
As they descended from the peak of Everest, Goku's buoyant spirits seemed to infect Mark with a newfound sense of optimism. "When I started learning martial arts, it took me about four years to really get the grasp of fighting. You're natural, Mark, even if your current technique is rough around the edges," Goku assured him as they glided through the air.
"Really? That's somewhat reassuring to hear. Maybe time and patience are just part of the journey," Mark said, a small smile breaking through his earlier frustration. Curiosity piqued, he inquired further, "Goku, how old were you when you began your training?"
Goku pondered for a moment, then answered, "I was 9 years old."
That revelation hit Mark harder than any blizzard. To think that Goku started his martial journey as a child was a stark reminder of the ground he had to cover.
The twilight hues faded into the inky blackness of the night as Goku maintained his vigilant watch over Earth. He was an outsider, yet he felt a kinship with this vibrant planet that had become his second home. Cecil's request was not a burden but a duty he accepted with quiet honor. As he floated in the vast quietude of space, Goku's thoughts often wandered back to his family, whose memories were both a source of joy and a gentle ache in his heart.
His mind also turned to young Mark, whose journey paralleled that of his own son, Gohan. The boy was at a crossroads, torn between the life of a scholar and the calling of a hero. Goku, who had always valued the balance between strength and wisdom, had seen the benefit of knowledge in battle and peace alike. He hoped that Mark would find that balance, and he had made his case to Debbie and Cecil, advocating for the young hero's continued education.
The girl in pink, whose name Goku now remembered as Atom Eve, intrigued him. She was powerful in her own right, and her affection for Mark seemed to be of the purest kind—rooted in genuine care rather than the idolization often directed at heroes. Goku could sense the bond forming between them, and he hoped that, irrespective of the threats looming over Earth, they would find happiness.
As the Earth rotated beneath him, Goku's heightened senses picked up the subtle vibrations of the universe. He could sense the life force of every creature, the ebb and flow of energies that most beings could never perceive. It was during one of these meditative scans that he detected the anomalous signatures of the Viltrumites, their presence a dissonant chord in the cosmic symphony.
The solitary figure, moving ahead of the others, puzzled him. What purpose drove her/him? What passion fueled this person's solitary flight? Goku's instincts told him that this was no ordinary scout, and its approach warranted caution—perhaps even direct intervention.
With a decision made, Goku transitioned from observer to actor. His sudden appearance in the Pentagon was a breach of protocol that startled the room into chaos, but it was a necessary intrusion. Cecil's startled expression swiftly turned to one of focused concern as Goku relayed his findings.
The ensuing moments were a frenzy of activity. Cecil's commands echoed through the command center as the military and heroes alike prepared for a threat they could not yet see but felt in the urgency of Goku's warning. The Guardians of the Globe were put on high alert, and every available resource was directed to prepare Earth's defenses.
Goku's assurance to intercept the approaching Viltrumite was not born of arrogance but of a deep-seated resolve to protect his adopted home. He had faced foes of unimaginable power before, and while the prospect of facing the might of the Viltrumites alone was daunting, he did not falter.
With a final nod to Cecil, Goku vanished, leaving only a ripple in the air where he once stood. His journey through the stars would be solitary, and the weight of the impending confrontation hung heavy on his shoulders. The Earth below continued its silent orbit, oblivious to the guardian who sped through the cosmos toward an encounter that could decide its fate.
Cecil watched the space where Goku had disappeared, a mixture of apprehension and hope in his heart. He knew of Goku's legendary feats—the battles won against overwhelming odds—and yet, the thought of a lone warrior standing against the might of a Viltrumite force was enough to give pause to even the most seasoned strategist.
As the days passed, Earth's defenders prepared for the worst. The Guardians of the Globe trained relentlessly, and Sinclair's project, a series of advanced robotic enforcers, accelerated to completion. Communications were established with allies across the globe, and every eye turned skyward, watching for a sign of the impending threat—or the return of their champion.
Meanwhile, across the void of space, Goku raced toward destiny, the stars streaking by in a blur of light. The lone Viltrumite's energy signature grew stronger, more distinct, and Goku prepared himself for what was to come. He knew the importance of what lay ahead—not just the battle itself, but the message it would send: Earth was not undefended. Earth was not alone.
And far behind, in the silent expanse of the Pentagon's command center, Cecil stood by the monitors, his gaze locked on the screens that showed a star-studded canvas of space. He whispered to the void, "Give 'em hell, Goku. For all of us."