Capsule Corp. Years of rebuilding. The dead returned. Society rebuilt. Order restored.

  Bulma paced. Anxious.

  WHOOSH.

  She spun. Gasped. "Perilla! You scared me!"

  "Instant Transmission. Sensed your Ki. Came straight here."

  "Never mind that—the Time Machine's gone. Vegeta and Trunks are training on King Kai's planet. I've been organizing the Hero Committee, and when I checked—it vanished."

  "Hero Committee?"

  Perilla's curiosity piqued.

  "After the Androids, humanity reflected. We needed a system to handle world-ending threats. So we formed the Martial Arts Hero Committee. Trains heroes. Provides stipends and honors."

  "Train heroes?"

  "Master Roshi, Krillin, Yamcha, Tien—they're instructors now. Teaching martial arts. Cultivating defenders. Heroes get paid based on rank. Omega-Class—the highest—only has two: Gohan and Trunks. They beat 17 and 18. Monthly stipends reach tens of millions. Chi-Chi collects Gohan's share. He's rich without working."

  Perilla smiled. Finally. Goku saved Earth countless times and still worried about groceries. Now Gohan can train in peace.

  "The system's still rough. But it'll mature. We'll raise more protectors."

  "If only Goku were alive. Chi-Chi wouldn't yell at him for training."

  "True. But back to the Time Machine—this feels dangerous. Can you find it?"

  "Of course. Take me to the basement."

  Basement.

  Machinery. Parts. Clutter. A large empty space in the center.

  Where the Time Machine used to be.

  Perilla wasn't a detective. But she was a god.

  She pointed at the empty space. Tapped the air.

  A translucent projection materialized.

  "What's that?"

  "Replaying the past. Divine technique. Simple stuff."

  Bulma watched. A figure in a hood appeared. Approached the Time Machine. Laughed.

  "Kekeke. Easier than I thought."

  Bulma frowned. Who is he? How did he know about the Time Machine?

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  Perilla pointed. "Look at his shoulder."

  Bulma squinted. Gasped. "That emblem—Red Ribbon Army?!"

  "Yep. Mass-produced mechanical Android. I saw them on the island. Guard units."

  "An Android? Is he going back to save 17 and 18?"

  Perilla shook her head. "Impossible. Gero was killed by 17. But there are other Androids."

  Bulma paled.

  "You know this. I'm Gero's first successful genetic fusion Android. But he wouldn't stop at one. He got Frieza and King Cold's cells. He'd make more."

  She's being vague. But I know. This is about Cell. This timeline must be the one Cell came from. In canon, they never explained how Trunks beat 17 and 18 in Cell's timeline. Now I know—I saved them.

  The projection showed the Android pocketing the Time Machine. Vanished.

  "Can you find it?"

  "Already on it."

  Perilla's eyes glowed. Calculations. Divination.

  "Found him. Put your hand on my shoulder."

  Bulma obeyed.

  FLASH.

  Research Lab.

  They materialized. Equipment. Computers. The Android sat at a terminal.

  He spun. Shocked. "Impossible! Twelve! Bulma! How—"

  "Where's the Time Machine?"

  "Kekeke. You'll never know! You're a traitor, Twelve! Gero should've destroyed you, not sealed you!"

  Perilla picked her ear. "Sure, I'm a traitor. But I taught Gohan and Trunks. They beat 17 and 18. Avenged Gero, didn't I?"

  The Android froze. She's... right.

  Then snarled. "Doesn't matter! The ultimate Android's already been sent back! He'll kill Son Goku! All his friends! Including you! Hahaha!"

  Bulma tensed.

  Perilla remained calm. "Sent back? Fine. I'll go to the past and destroy it myself."

  "Too late! You'll die here with me! Self-destruct activated! Mission complete, Dr. Gero!"

  He slammed a button.

  Nothing.

  "Explode! EXPLODE! Why won't you—"

  Perilla yawned. "Give it up. I hacked the lab the moment I arrived. Self-destruct's disabled."

  The Android's eyes widened. Despair.