Five years had passed since the Tournament of Destroyers and since Pan’s future self had arrived with her haunting warnings. Now, Vegeta found himself staring at the impossible, his eyes fixed on the small figure before him. Pan, barely six years old, stood bathed in golden light, her hair spiked up, her young face radiating fierce determination. She had done it—she had become a Super Saiyan.

A rare feeling settled over Vegeta as he observed the transformation: a mix of pride and trepidation. This child—Gohan’s daughter, Kakarot’s granddaughter—had achieved a transformation he himself had once considered a legend. But she was more than just a Super Saiyan. Her power radiated a purity and intensity that reminded him eerily of her future self. It was like staring into a living prophecy, one he both dreaded and respected.

As he watched, Pan shifted, her movements fluid yet incredibly fast, almost too fast for him to track. She was faster than he’d expected, her agility unnatural for a child. Vegeta’s eyes narrowed as he observed her, the raw energy swirling around her, and he couldn’t ignore the parallels to the version of Pan he had encountered five years ago. The intensity, the focus, the precision—all of it was there, flickering in this young child.

“Pan,” he called, his voice stern, “show me what you can do.”

Without hesitation, Pan lunged forward, vanishing for a split second before reappearing in front of him, her small fist aimed straight for his torso. Vegeta barely had time to react, sidestepping just in time to avoid her punch, though he felt the rush of energy as her attack missed him by mere inches. She grinned, a hint of playfulness in her golden eyes, but he could see the latent power beneath her youthful excitement.

She was not just a prodigy—she was a force in the making. As she continued to attack, he noticed her movements becoming more fluid, her strikes faster, her control over her power sharper. She even seemed to be flickering in and out of focus, teleporting instinctively without fully realizing it, as if bending space itself. It was remarkable and a little unnerving, the sight of her tapping into a skillset that should have been far beyond her years.

And he could see it—the other Pan, the one who had walked a dark path. The potential for greatness was there, but so was the risk, the temptation of power unchecked. Vegeta felt a surge of determination. He would guide her, as he had promised himself. He wouldn’t let her stumble into the darkness her older self had warned him about.

Several days later, as Vegeta was training in solitude, the familiar crackling of energy near him caught his attention. He turned, his senses on high alert, only to see a shimmering distortion in the air—a portal, a tear in the fabric of time and space. His eyes widened, but before he could react, a small figure came barreling through it.

Pan shot out of the portal headfirst, colliding with him in a full-force, accidental headbutt.

“Argh!” Vegeta grunted, stumbling back as the impact hit him square in the forehead. The surprise caught him off guard, and he barely managed to steady himself before he realized what had happened.

Pan looked up at him, her eyes wide with surprise and a bit of embarrassment, her hands clutching her head where she’d collided with his. “S-Sorry, Vegeta!” she stammered, rubbing her forehead. “I didn’t mean to… I just wanted to… uh, visit!”

Vegeta’s expression softened, though he let out an exasperated sigh. “You’re reckless, just like your grandfather,” he muttered, but he couldn’t keep the smirk from his face. This little Saiyan, with all her raw power and boundless curiosity, was already more than he had expected. She had a spark—an intensity—that made him both wary and proud.

He crouched down to her level, resting a hand on her shoulder, his gaze serious. “Listen to me, Pan. This power you’re learning to wield… you have to treat it with respect. It’s more than just strength. It’s a responsibility.”

Pan looked up at him, her golden eyes wide with a mixture of curiosity and admiration. “I understand, Vegeta. I… I just want to protect people, like you and Grandpa and Dad do.”

He studied her face for a moment, recognizing the sincerity in her words. She was still a child, but she understood more than he had at her age. He could see the potential there, waiting to be shaped, and he knew that the weight of her future rested on his shoulders as much as hers.

“You’re strong, Pan,” he said quietly, the words carrying a weight of both pride and caution. “Stronger than most Saiyans your age. But you must learn control. Power without control can lead you down paths you can’t return from.” He paused, remembering her future self and the terrible fate she had recounted. “And that’s not a path I want for you.”

Pan nodded, her young face set with determination as she absorbed his words. “I’ll do my best, Vegeta. I promise.”

Vegeta’s gaze softened. “Good,” he said simply. “Now, let’s see if you can handle a little more training. And this time… no more headbutts.”

She giggled, a bright, unrestrained sound that reminded him she was still a child, despite the power coursing through her. And as they began their training once more, Vegeta resolved to do whatever it took to guide her, to ensure that the path ahead of her was one of strength tempered with wisdom. He would protect her from the darkness he’d glimpsed, to the best of his ability—because this time, he had the power to change her fate.

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At just eight years old, Pan was already turning heads at the Martial Arts Tournament. Gohan and Videl had hesitated at first, unsure whether she was ready to compete at such a young age, but Pan’s determination had been unbreakable. The crowd murmured as she stepped into the arena, her small form radiating a confidence beyond her years. Vegeta stood among the onlookers, his arms crossed, watching intently. He could sense the energy simmering beneath her composed exterior, like a dormant volcano.

But as the fight began, something changed. Her opponent, a teenager much older and far larger, taunted her, calling her a “weak little girl.” Vegeta saw Pan’s expression darken, her brows knitting together as the insult settled in. A low growl escaped her, and then, like the snap of a whip, her energy spiked.

The crowd gasped as a primal snarl erupted from her, the sound reverberating through the arena. It was the sound of a young Saiyan, angry and unrestrained. Vegeta’s eyes narrowed in recognition—he had heard that kind of growl before, in battles where pride was on the line, where a Saiyan’s spirit refused to be insulted or diminished. This was more than mere frustration; it was a challenge.

Before anyone could react, Pan’s aura exploded in a brilliant flash of light, far surpassing anything the audience had anticipated. Her power surged, crackling like a storm as her transformation skipped past Super Saiyan Two and leapt directly to Super Saiyan Three. Golden hair cascaded down her back, her brows vanished, and her eyes sharpened with a fierce, almost otherworldly determination. Her power was immense, nearly overwhelming, and it poured from her in waves that shook the arena.

Pan crouched low, her fingers digging into the arena floor as she prepared to attack, her energy searing the ground around her, cracking the tiles beneath her touch. The sheer density of her power was staggering, a force that radiated raw, primal intensity.

“Pan!” Gohan’s voice echoed from the sidelines, equal parts pride and concern. He knew what this transformation meant, the magnitude of the power she was wielding, but it was all happening so fast. She was so young, and to reach this level so soon…

Her opponent stared, wide-eyed, paralyzed by the sight of her transformation. He barely had time to raise his hands in a feeble attempt at defense before Pan moved.

With a sudden burst of speed, she launched herself forward, the ground splintering beneath her feet as she closed the distance in a blink. Vegeta watched, his eyes locked on her form as she streaked toward her opponent, her hair flowing like golden fire. Her speed was remarkable, almost blinding, and her opponent was utterly unprepared.

Pan’s foot connected with her opponent’s jaw in a single, devastating kick, her power contained yet immense. The force of the blow sent her opponent flying across the arena, his body crashing against the far wall with a resounding thud. The impact left him slumped and motionless, a testament to the precision and potency of her attack.

Silence fell over the arena as Pan stood amidst the debris, her breathing heavy, her eyes glowing with an intensity that seemed to see beyond the present moment. The spectators sat in stunned silence, some too shocked to even cheer. The sheer force she had displayed, the ease with which she’d dispatched her opponent—it was nothing short of extraordinary.

Vegeta observed her with a mix of pride and wariness. She had gone farther than even he had expected, unleashing a power she should have been years away from accessing. This transformation wasn’t just the result of training; it was her Saiyan blood answering the challenge, her spirit rising to defend her pride. But there was a rawness to her power, an unrefined edge that bordered on dangerous. She was walking a thin line, and he could see that the intensity of her emotions had been the key to unlocking this form.

“Pan!” Gohan’s voice rang out again, and this time, she seemed to register it. Her gaze softened, the fierce energy around her beginning to wane as she caught sight of her father’s face. Slowly, the glow in her eyes faded, and her golden hair receded, her transformation slipping away as she returned to her base form.

The crowd erupted into applause and cheers, the silence broken as the realization of her victory settled over them. Pan blinked, as if waking from a trance, her gaze shifting from her fallen opponent to the faces of her family and friends cheering for her. A small smile broke across her face, but her breathing was still heavy, her body feeling the strain of a power beyond her years.

Vegeta’s expression remained serious as he watched her. She had displayed extraordinary potential, but he knew all too well the price of reaching such power without restraint. Her Saiyan instincts had driven her to skip over a level that most warriors struggled to attain in a lifetime, and while it was impressive, it was also concerning.

As Pan left the arena, Vegeta moved to intercept her, his face set in a hard line. She looked up at him, the exhaustion clear in her eyes but her spirit still vibrant.

“Good work,” he said, his tone gruff but not unkind. “But remember this—power is more than just strength. It’s about control. Letting anger fuel you may get you far, but it won’t lead to mastery. Learn to temper it, or you’ll lose yourself to it.”

Pan nodded, though he could see the lingering fire in her eyes, the fierce pride that refused to be quelled so easily. “I understand, Vegeta,” she replied, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “But… it felt amazing. I felt like I could do anything.”

Vegeta’s gaze softened, if only for a moment. He understood that feeling all too well, the heady rush of power, the sense of invincibility. But he also knew where it could lead, the darkness that lurked just beyond that threshold. “That feeling can be dangerous,” he warned, his tone firm. “Enjoy it, but respect it. Power taken too far has consequences.”

Pan looked up at him, her expression thoughtful, and he could see that his words had struck a chord. She nodded, and with that, Vegeta felt a small glimmer of hope that she would remember this lesson, that she would keep her power in check.

As she walked away to rejoin her family, Vegeta watched her with a sense of cautious pride. She was strong, perhaps stronger than any Saiyan child he had ever known. But strength was only part of the journey. And as her mentor and guide, he would make sure she understood the importance of balance, of restraint. Because while Pan’s potential was boundless, so too were the stakes.