At age ten, Pan’s powers continued to develop at an alarming rate. Vegeta had trained her tirelessly, pushing her to refine her transformations and control her energy, yet she had a knack for tapping into abilities that defied even his expectations. Today, as he waited on the training grounds, he sensed a familiar yet foreign energy—a shift in the atmosphere, like a disturbance in the very fabric of space.

In a blink, she appeared, jumping out of a rift she had created. Vegeta noticed immediately that something was different. As she landed, he saw it: a tail, as black as her hair, wrapped firmly around her waist, swaying lazily behind her. She hadn’t had one before. The sight of it was enough to give him pause, an unsettling reminder of their shared Saiyan heritage.

Before he could even open his mouth to question her, Pan smirked and leapt into another rift, disappearing before he could stop her. He waited, his patience wearing thin, as her energy flickered in and out of his senses, her presence slipping between dimensions in an unnerving display of her mastery over the strange ability. Seconds later, she materialized above him, shimmering like stardust before landing with an almost ethereal grace.

“It seems this is with me now,” she said simply, her tone nonchalant as she gestured to the tail swaying behind her.

Vegeta regarded her with a mixture of curiosity and concern. The tail, a symbol of their heritage, represented both strength and something darker. His own history with his tail was a reminder of the primal power it carried, a power that could easily spiral out of control. The idea of Pan wielding this power at her age, combined with her knack for entering rifts, left him with a growing sense of unease.

“Pan,” he said, his voice steely, “where did this come from?”

She tilted her head, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. “I’m not sure,” she replied, shrugging. “It just… appeared after I started going deeper into the rifts. I think it has something to do with the energy in there.”

Vegeta’s frown deepened. There was something about her explanation that unsettled him, a hint of darkness that clung to her aura, faint but undeniable. The more she entered these rifts, the more she seemed to draw back with her—not just her newfound abilities, but something else, something sinister that seemed to seep into her very being.

He observed her closely, noting the subtle changes: her energy felt heavier, tinged with a dark undertone that was almost palpable. The brightness of her usual aura seemed dimmed, as if tainted by the energies she encountered within the rifts. This was not the Pan he had been training. She was evolving in ways he hadn’t anticipated, and with each journey into the rifts, he could feel her slipping farther from the Saiyan child he knew.

“Pan,” he said carefully, “these rifts you keep entering… you must be cautious. There are energies beyond your control lurking in dimensions you barely understand.”

She scoffed, waving him off. “I can handle it, Vegeta. I’m stronger every time I come back.” She glanced at her tail, her fingers brushing over it with a hint of fascination. “This… this feels like it’s supposed to be here, like a part of me that’s been missing.”

Vegeta’s jaw tightened. He recognized her confidence, her thirst for strength, but he also recognized the danger that accompanied it. He had once followed a similar path, pursuing power at any cost, and he knew the allure of it. But the darkness in her energy—the shadow that seemed to cling to her each time she returned from the rifts—was unlike anything he had encountered before.

“The power you’re feeling,” he began slowly, his voice laden with caution, “comes with a price. It’s not just about strength. There are consequences to seeking power from places you don’t fully understand.”

Pan’s smile faded, her gaze sharpening as she met his eyes. “You don’t think I’m strong enough to handle it?” she challenged, her voice carrying an edge that reminded him of his younger self.

“It’s not about strength,” he replied evenly, his tone firm. “It’s about control. If you let that darkness grow, it will consume you.”

Her expression wavered, uncertainty flickering in her eyes, but it was quickly replaced by the stubborn resolve he had come to know. “I’ll control it,” she insisted, her voice fierce. “I have to. This is my power, Vegeta. I won’t let it control me.”

Vegeta felt a pang of frustration, the helplessness of watching her toe a dangerous line, one he couldn’t pull her back from without risking her trust. “Just remember,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of urgency, “this power isn’t what defines you. It’s the choices you make with it.”

Pan’s gaze softened, but only slightly. She nodded, as if to appease him, though he could sense the fire still burning behind her eyes. As she turned to leave, he caught a glimpse of her tail swaying behind her, a reminder of the path she was choosing to walk.

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As she vanished into another rift, Vegeta stood alone, his thoughts racing. He couldn’t shake the feeling that she was slipping into something far darker than she realized. And though he had vowed to guide her, to protect her from the darkness he had glimpsed in her future self, he knew that her fate was ultimately in her own hands.

Watching the rippling distortion fade, he clenched his fists, a solemn promise forming in his mind: he would be ready, no matter how far she strayed.

Vegeta stood his ground, eyes narrowed, as Pan lashed out at him with her tail, now covered in a concentrated layer of glowing Ki. The force of her strike cracked against his chest, sending a ripple of pain through him. He stumbled back, caught off guard by the strength packed into her blow.

“Whoa, that actually worked!” she exclaimed, taking a step back, her wide eyes gleaming with excitement.

But Vegeta recovered in an instant, his instincts kicking in as he lunged forward and seized her tail before she could react. His grip was firm, and he felt her entire body tense, her hands balling into fists at her sides, her head bowing slightly. Vegeta knew the tail was a Saiyan’s vulnerability, and though Pan was strong, the shock of having her tail grabbed rendered her momentarily helpless.

“Pan,” he said, his tone a warning. “You’re letting your excitement get the better of you. Control it, or you’ll-”

But he never finished the sentence. A shift in energy pulsed through the air, emanating from Pan. His eyes widened as he felt her aura begin to intensify, becoming warmer, brighter, and more formidable than anything he’d sensed from her before. He released her tail, stepping back, and watched as her Ki erupted around her, a force unlike anything he had ever seen from a Saiyan so young.

It’s too soon, he thought, a flash of alarm flickering through him. She’s only eleven…

The light around her intensified, filling the Gravity Chamber with a blinding brilliance. Vegeta instinctively raised a hand to shield his eyes, the sheer power radiating from her forcing him to reassess his expectations. This was no ordinary transformation—Pan was channeling something far beyond her years. The air crackled with energy, and the familiar weight of godly Ki pressed down on him, enveloping the entire chamber in a radiant glow.

As he lowered his hand, he saw her standing there, surrounded by an aura of pure, divine energy. Her hair had shifted to a shimmering, metallic gold, flowing down her back like a molten river. Her eyes, once wide with excitement, now glowed with a molten orange hue, their intensity tempered by a calm, unwavering focus. Her tail swayed behind her, now glimmering with golden energy as if it, too, had been transformed.

Pan’s entire presence had changed, radiating a power that felt ancient yet untamed, a raw force tempered by innocence. She stood taller, her stance calm but strong, as though she were tapping into a strength older than herself. This was the power of a Super Saiyan God—something Vegeta himself had trained tirelessly to attain. And here she was, an eleven-year-old child, channeling that godly power with an ease that left him speechless.

The chamber walls trembled under the weight of her aura, the equipment humming as if in response to the power surge. Vegeta could feel the energy rolling off her, pressing against him, a mixture of heat and light that was both comforting and awe-inspiring.

Pan looked down at herself, her eyes wide with wonder as she flexed her fingers, watching the energy ripple around her. She glanced up at Vegeta, a hesitant but excited grin forming on her lips. “Vegeta… I did it,” she whispered, her voice filled with disbelief. “I actually did it.”

Vegeta stared, struggling to process the enormity of what he was witnessing. He had seen transformations, power-ups, feats of strength beyond comprehension. But seeing this young Saiyan girl—who was still barely beginning to understand her own strength—ascend to a level that rivaled the gods was something he hadn’t anticipated. The words of her older counterpart echoed faintly in his mind: “At age fourteen, I ascended to Super Saiyan God…”

But Pan had done it three years earlier.

His mind raced, filled with equal parts pride and concern. He couldn’t deny the pride he felt, watching her stand before him radiating power beyond her years, but he also knew what godly power demanded—the discipline, the control, the burden. The question of whether she was ready for this responsibility gnawed at him.

“Pan,” he said, his voice steady but laced with warning, “you’ve accessed a power that takes most Saiyans a lifetime to reach. But don’t let it go to your head. This power isn’t just a weapon—it’s a responsibility.”

She looked up at him, her expression softening, the weight of his words settling over her. “I understand, Vegeta,” she replied, her voice quiet yet firm. “I’ll… I’ll try to control it.”

He studied her, his eyes narrowing as he gauged her resolve. “Good. Then show me. Prove that you’re not just wielding it, but that you’re worthy of it.”

Pan nodded, a flash of determination crossing her face, and with a slow breath, she began to channel the energy within her, concentrating it, letting it flow with purpose rather than raw force. Vegeta could feel the shift in her aura, the refinement in her control, and he felt a glimmer of hope. Perhaps she was ready—perhaps she could master this form without losing herself to it.

“Then let’s test your resolve,” he said, slipping into a fighting stance, his own aura flaring as he prepared to push her limits. He knew this was the moment that would determine her readiness, not just to wield godly power, but to understand its true meaning.

As they squared off, the light of her aura illuminating the chamber, Vegeta saw a glimpse of her future, one filled with both promise and peril. And as he prepared to challenge her, he resolved that he would be there, guiding her every step, ensuring she understood that the path of a Saiyan was more than just power—it was the mastery of oneself.