Dragon Ball Z: The Beast Within - CH47

[Chronoa – POV]

A new timeline had been born.

That alone should have sent alarms ringing across the Chrono Vault. But oddly enough, it didn’t. No distortion alarms. No shrieking warning lights. Not even a hiccup from the Time Scrolls.

That was the first red flag.

Timelines don’t just happen. Not the big ones. Not the "break off and rewrite the universe" kind. Those were extra rare, and extra interesting.

Normally, when something like this occurs, you can trace it back to a rogue Kai, or a lunatic god, a demon, or some idiot breaking causality by trying to save their pet from getting hit by a truck.

But this one? This one just… happened.

A natural divergence. No outside force. No manipulation.

It just breathed itself into existence.

And I was absolutely livid that I couldn’t figure out how or why. This was my job! And I had no clue why this had happened!

“Oh, don’t mind me, murder babies,” I muttered to myself, floating around the Saiyan Nursery. “Just the Supreme Kai of Time—keeper of the multiverse, mother of order, your friendly cosmic babysitter.”

I was in my Time Patrol cloak, hood up, and I'd forgotten to fully suppress my power when I arrived. A rookie mistake. But who could blame me?! I was so excited I practically tripped on the way here.

Not that it mattered. Saiyans of this era couldn’t sense energy to save their lives. Literally. I could light myself on fire and dance across the skyline, and they’d assume it was just a meteor or something.

Why do 90% of the altered timelines always come back to Saiyan or their babies?

My brow furrowed as I pulled out the Scroll again. The faint light of its projection danced across my face, showing me the current iteration of the universe I was watching. I narrowed my eyes as I skimmed the registry of births.

And then I saw it.

“Wait… what?”

My voice came out flat. I leaned closer to the scroll, then blinked a few times to make sure I wasn’t seeing it wrong.

Broly.

Paragus’s kid. Born exactly on time, with all the usual red flags—combat potential, energy spikes, mood swings, emotional instability. The usual walking apocalypse in a diaper.

But there it was. Right above his name.

First Born: Escarot.

I blinked again.

“Excuse me, what?!”

My voice cracked.

Paragus had another kid? When? How? And why? This man could barely raise a space hamster, let alone two sons. He’s like, top ten list of “People You Should Not Give Children To,” right under Frieza and Cell.

And yet… there it was.

Escarot. Firstborn.

Huh… this was new, like truly new. I had never seen this name before.

“Not sure what to think.”

I hovered back a little, arms crossed, eyes narrowing in suspicion. The time stream was already branching out like wild vines, all stemming from this Escarot. That was the problem. In every other timeline, Broly was either a golden retriever or a psychopath, but him having an older brother...

I don’t know…

This… Escarot had already triggered several butterfly events that were spiraling into god-knows-what.

The Time Rings were vibrating just from my proximity to this branch. That wasn’t a good sign. Or perhaps it was…?

I had to know more.

And lucky for me, I was very good at asking questions.

“Well,” I said, cracking my neck, “I suppose it’s time for a little undercover recon. A bit of mortal mingling. Play dress-up, pretend to be an adorable Saiyan girl. What could go wrong?”

Honestly, I almost never do this.

Not because I can’t. But because 95% of mortal problems boil down to people punching each other until one of them changes his ways, explodes, or both. The rest is mostly food.

But this? This warranted a personal visit.

I cracked my knuckles.

Alright. Let’s think.

I’ll need a disguise. Something non-threatening. Female, low class. I should go younger, but not too young—I want access to military records if I need them. Something with a decent backstory, but not one that needs to stand up to serious inspection.

Fake name…

“Potato’,” I grinned to myself. “Because I’m subtle like that.”

Now for the power level… let’s go with something slightly above average. Not too strong, but enough to get me in the door. Say, 1,000? That’d put me just above your average recruit and make people think I’m promising, but not worth spying on.

Perfect.

Within a flash, the cloak vanished and I reappeared with spiky black hair, worn-out armor, and the scouter equivalent of thrift-store shoes.

Ugh, these things are so clunky.

“Here comes Chrona, the best Saiyan side character to ever fake a resume.”

I could already feel the headache forming.

Still, there was a part of me that was enjoying this.

I almost never get to be surprised. The multiverse is predictable. Endless variations of the same story told through different filters. A new coat of paint on the same old wall.

But this?

This wasn’t just a detour.

This was a complete derailment.

Broly was the second-born.

Escarot existed.

And the universe was already starting to bend around him like metal to a magnet.

“I have to meet this idiot,” I muttered, floating down toward the surface. “Anyone that can accidentally rewrite destiny is someone worth interrogating—preferably with snacks.”

I landed behind a building near the military district and adjusted my gloves. The armor was itchy. I swear the Saiyan armor manufacturers used sandpaper as inspiration.

A few soldiers passed by, none even glancing my way.

Good. I fit in.

Now to get inside the system. Get some files. Cross-check Escarot's movements. I needed to know when he started altering the timeline and how.

I’d start with the scouters. Tap into the power-reading registry. If I could trace any spikes that stood out as not supposed to happen, I might get closer to the moment everything started to change.

And if that didn’t work?

I’d go straight to him.

Face to face.

See what kind of idiot could derail the story of the gods just by existing.

And hey, if nothing else… at least I’d get to blow off some steam.

It’s been a boring few millennia.

And I am overdue for a little chaos.

—-------------------------------------------------------

It took me less than an hour to find him.

Escarot.

The timeline-warping, destiny-defying, possibly-a-glitch-in-reality Saiyan brat that had somehow caused a naturally diverging timeline without divine interference.

And there he was.

Just… walking around. Like he didn’t have a multiversal bounty of curiosity hovering over his head.

I was honestly expecting something a bit more dramatic. Fire in the eyes. A wild aura. Scars, maybe. Some unhinged "I fight because I love the taste of blood" monologue.

Nope.

Instead, what I got was… chill.

Relaxed.

He walked with the energy of someone who had just cleaned up a fight and was now wondering what snacks were left in the fridge.

He didn’t even look that murdery, which was rare for Saiyans of this era. Where was the bloodlust? The hair-trigger rage? The desire to rip throats out over power rankings?

Was this guy broken? Glitched? Defective?

Or worse…

Different.

I floated behind a tall, beat-up building, keeping my energy low—not that it mattered, I was pretty sure I had turned invisible to these apes by now. They couldn’t sense ki, and none of them were smart enough to look behind them when they walked.

Still. I had to be careful. I was undercover.

My disguise was holding up just fine. Ragged armor, scuffed boots, hair down and messy, with just enough fake grease smudged across my cheek to make me blend in with the other low-class riff-raff.

I was deep cover, baby.

And then—like some cursed drama scene—he stopped.

Mid-step.

His head tilted slightly to the side.

And I froze.

“...No,” I whispered to myself. “No way.”

He turned around.

Our eyes met.

Shit.

“Why are you following me?” he asked, tone calm, but eyes sharp. Focused. A little too focused.

Like someone used to catching lies mid-air.

My stomach dropped.

Wait. No. Nope. He can’t be. That’s not possible.

There’s no way he can sense ki. Saiyans don’t unlock that until much later down the line! Their perception is trash-tier right now!

I forced my face into a perfect deadpan, arms crossed, tone dismissive. “I wasn’t following you.”

A flawless lie.

Unshakeable. Unbreakable.

“So you’ve just happened to be walking thirty paces behind me for the last hour?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow. “And stopping when I stop. Taking left turns when I take left turns. You know… like a stalker?”

My eye twitched.

Stalker?!

Oh, hell no.

This little timeline-altering brat just accused me of stalking? Me?! The beautiful literal Supreme Kai of Time? Guardian of causality? Keeper of—

Wait. Breathe. Play it cool, Chronoa. You’re undercover. And he’s still talking.

“So what’s your name, stalker?” he added, watching me with way too much amusement for someone who should’ve been terrified of the power radiating off of me.

He grinned.

Grinned!

Like I was the funny one in this interaction.

Well, you know what?

Time to commit to the bit.

“Potato,” I said. Proud. Defiant. No hesitation.

He blinked.

Then laughed. Not a mocking laugh, either. More like a surprised snort from someone who genuinely didn’t expect that answer.

“Potato, huh?” he repeated. “Alright then. The name’s Escarot.”

His tone wasn’t defensive. Wasn’t guarded. He didn’t treat me like an enemy, or even a threat.

He treated me like… a person.

Which was, frankly, wildly suspicious.

I stared at him a second too long. He wasn’t wrong—he did look a bit different from the others, in his posture. His walk didn’t carry that aggressive sway most of them had.

His hands weren’t clenched. His tail wasn’t twitching like it was waiting for an excuse to strangle someone. His energy—though mostly hidden—was coiled in a weirdly efficient way.

Like a soldier…

A martial artist.

I frowned. “So… what are you doing?”

“Uh, walking?” he replied, glancing down at his own feet as if to confirm it. “Pretty sure that’s what this is.”

Okay, he’s starting to grow on me. He’s funny.

I blinked again, tuning into his power. His suppression was immaculate. Damn near perfect. I could only feel exactly what he wanted me to feel.

I was honestly impressed.

“Do you need something?” he added.

“Yes,” I said before I could stop myself. “I… want to be friends.”

What.

What?

WHAT DID I JUST SAY?!

THIS IS WHY I DON’T GO ON MISSIONS!

He tilted his head slightly. I braced myself.

And then—

“Sure, why not,” he said with a shrug. “I already have one annoying friend, two won’t kill me.”

OH YOU LITTLE—

WHO ARE YOU CALLING ANNOYING YOU OBNOXIOUS LITTLE TIME GREMLIN?!

I forced a smile so hard my molars almost cracked. “Yeih!~”

The fake voice came out too cheerful.

But hey, at least I had a front-row seat now. I was in. Embedded. One of the gang.

Step one of the operation was complete.

I could already feel the Scrolls humming, threads shifting just from our short interaction. It wasn’t just Escarot’s existence that changed this timeline—it was his interactions, his future. Every person he touched. Every ripple he made by simply being different.

And now?

Now I had a seat at the table.

I was going to watch this anomaly from up close.

See what made him tick.

I swear to every celestial rule in the Book of Time that I wrote… that I will understand what changed in this timeline before lunch!