A story

Mori and Elec sit on a jagged asteroid floating in the emptiness of space. The quiet of the cosmos surrounds them, broken only by their labored breathing after another intense training session. Their clothes are tattered, evidence of the relentless combat that has pushed both of them to their limits over the past three weeks. Sweat clings to their skin, though the cold of space fails to reach them as their auras burn bright, keeping the chill at bay.

Mori, after taking a few deep breaths, turns to Elec. "Three weeks out here," he says, his voice steady but carrying a hint of pride, "and I can feel our strength growing rapidly. You've come far, my child. Your techniques are sharper, more refined. You've integrated my fighting style and Cell's techniques into something uniquely yours." He pauses, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studies Elec. "It's a shocker to see that within these three weeks, you've even figured out how to heal yourself, just like Cell could."

Elec laughs, the sound light and confident. "It's all thanks to you, Father. You've given me the opportunity to not only increase my strength but also my understanding of who I am. Without this training, I wouldn't have come this far."

Mori gives a nod, accepting the compliment but staying silent for a moment. He turns his gaze toward the stars, which twinkle brightly against the vast emptiness of space. It's a sight that's always fascinated him—the stars seem so close, yet so unreachable, scattered like diamonds in the black void.

As he watches the stars, Mori begins to speak again. "Boy... what do you want to do?" His tone is reflective, thoughtful. "I get the sense that you don't want to just sit on Earth and rot. You've met me, we've fought, and I've trained you. Granted, the training isn't over, but I doubt your ambitions end with just staying on Earth and sparring with me for the next few years."

Elec, slightly taken aback by the question, looks at Mori for a long moment. Then, he turns his gaze to the stars as well, contemplating his answer. "You're right," he finally says. "While I don't have any issues with Earth, or with training alongside you, I've always felt like there's something more. I've traveled to many planets in search of you, and everywhere I went, people spoke of you like you were a legend—a savior. I want to live up to that. I want to be worthy of being called your son, of carrying the name 'StarScourge.'"

Mori remains silent, listening to his son's words with the same intense gaze fixed on the stars. Then, slowly, he lifts his hand, reaching out as if to grab one of the distant stars. "You want to live up to the name StarScourge?" Mori says softly, his voice distant. "Let me tell you this, Elec—you have the potential to be better than me. Better than Goku, Gohan, and even Vegeta. Think about it—you've been alive for what, a year or so? And already, you're nearly at my level. It took me years of death-defying battles to get here, and yet you've reached this height in a fraction of that time."

Elec is quiet, humbled by his father's words. Mori lets the silence hang in the air for a moment longer before his expression turns more serious. His voice drops, growing heavier with meaning. "But before you can live up to that title, I need to ask you something. It's a question that defines who you are, and what kind of strength you'll pursue."

Elec shifts slightly, sensing the gravity of the moment. "What is it?"

Mori's eyes harden as he speaks. "If you fell in love with someone, would you be willing to kill her to let the world prosper? Or would you destroy the world to save her?"

Elec's eyes widen in shock. He wasn't expecting a question like that. It catches him off guard in a way no punch or kick ever could. He looks at his father, studying Mori's face closely. For the first time since they met, Mori isn't smiling. He isn't playful or teasing, even during their toughest fights, Mori always had that glint of humor. But now... he's deadly serious.

Mori's face is stern, his eyes cold and devoid of any light-heartedness. His question cuts deeper than any physical blow. The weight of the question hangs in the air, and Elec can feel the coldness of space creeping in as he struggles to find an answer.

Two, maybe three minutes pass in tense silence. Elec still doesn't know how to respond, the question swirling in his mind with impossible consequences. Sensing his hesitation, Mori speaks again, this time his voice softer, though no less serious.

"I'm not asking this without reason, boy." Mori turns to fully face Elec, his posture relaxed but his eyes still locked onto his son's. "Let me tell you a story from my past—before I was known as StarScourge."

Elec listens intently, still processing his father's question but now curious about what Mori was going to reveal. Mori rarely spoke about his past, especially the parts that came before his reputation as a galactic warrior.

"There was a time when I was... different," Mori begins, his voice low, as if dredging up painful memories. "Before the legend of StarScourge, before the battles and the bloodshed... I was in love. She was everything to me. But she was also a weakness. Loving someone with all your heart—it's the greatest strength and the deepest vulnerability." His gaze hardens. "One day, I was forced to make a choice. I had the power to save her, but the cost would've been the lives of thousands of innocents. The universe would've bled because of me."

Elec feels a lump form in his throat, the weight of his father's story sinking in.

"I chose to let her die," Mori says, his voice steady, though there's a deep pain behind his words. "I couldn't justify killing so many to save one life, even if that life meant the world to me. That choice haunted me. It changed me, shaped me into the warrior I am today. But it's also the reason I fight. To protect others from having to make that kind of choice."

Mori turns back to Elec, his eyes searching his son's face for understanding. "That's why I asked you the question. Power isn't just about strength or victory. It's about the decisions you make when you have it. So, Elec, I'll ask you again: would you let the world prosper and sacrifice the one you love, or would you destroy the world to save her?"

Elec remains silent, the weight of his father's words pressing down on him. He looks up at the stars, the vastness of space stretching out before them, but suddenly the stars seem much further away than they did before.

"I... don't know," Elec finally admits, his voice soft. "I don't know what I would do."

Mori nods, as if he expected that answer. "Good," he says quietly. "That means you're still thinking. And that means you still have a path to choose." 

The two sit in silence once again, the universe spinning endlessly around them, but the gravity of Mori's question continues to weigh heavily between them.