The market stretched endlessly, bustling with movement, a symphony of voices intertwining as merchants called out their wares. The scent of spices lingered in the air, mingling with the sweet aroma of freshly baked bread. Various stands displayed exotic fruits and roasted meats, while vendors haggled with travelers draped in worn cloaks and embroidered robes.
Celes moved steadily through the crowd, weaving between passing figures. She barely registered the vibrant fabrics fluttering on display or the rhythmic clatter of metal pots being stacked by hurried hands.
Her focus was sharp, only one thing mattered.
Then—
A flicker of movement.
Through the shifting bodies, a lone figure stood near a food stall, his posture relaxed, his back turned.
Emerald strands caught the light.
Wavy green hair, a long gray scarf, an unmistakable eyepatch with a dial covering his right eye.
The Cerealian she had been searching for.
Granolah.
Celes steadied her breath, pulling her energy deep within herself, compressing it into near silence. While she couldn't fully erase her presence, she ensured that no casual glance or passive or active Ki sensing would detect her, unless someone vastly stronger stood close enough to pick up residual traces.
She kept her distance, watching Granolah navigate the marketplace with unhurried steps. Stall after stall, he paused, sometimes scanning the selection with mild interest, other times exchanging brief words with the vendors.
Time passed, and the crowd shifted. The scent of roasted meats and spiced grains thickened in the air as the sun dipped lower, casting elongated shadows across the worn stone paths.
Granolah's movements remained steady, yet with each stall he visited, his trajectory became clearer.
He was heading east.
Not in a hurried escape, nor with a sense of urgency. But steadily, deliberately, checking each vendor along the way, gradually weaving toward the city's eastern exit.
Celes adjusted her position, careful to keep herself within the natural flow of the crowd.
Soon, he would step beyond the market's boundaries.
And she would be right behind him.
Celes remained still, eyes locked onto Granolah as he stepped beyond the city's borders. The terrain ahead stretched open, exposing vast, rolling land with little to shield her from view.
She let him walk.
Watched as his silhouette shrank against the backdrop of shifting dusk, the soft glow catching against scattered rock formations and uneven mounds that littered the landscape.
Only when he was nearly beyond the reach of her vision did she move.
Every step was measured. Ki remained suppressed.
She drifted between the natural terrain, keeping low behind jagged stone outcroppings, pausing only when the cover ran thin. The minutes stretched on—thirty, maybe more—each breath steady as Granolah pressed forward.
Then, the scenery changed.
The ground darkened beneath him, thick roots threading through the soil. Towering trees loomed ahead, their wide trunks casting deep shadows, their sprawling leaves catching the faintest hues of violet under the dimming light.
Granolah strode toward it without hesitation.
Celes' grip tightened.
This was her chance.
The cover she needed.
She took a breath, then moved forward.
Her feet pressed against the ground, each step carefully placed to avoid kicking up loose stones. The terrain was rough, uneven, scattered with jagged rocks that forced her to weave carefully through the open land. She ran as fast as she could while keeping her movements quiet, rushing toward the tree line without drawing attention to herself.
Then, cover.
She pressed herself against the rough bark of a towering tree, breath steady but focused.
A moment passed.
Slowly, she leaned forward, peering around the trunk's edge.
Granolah was still moving, his pace deliberate, his posture unchanged, but now, he was following a thin path that cut deeper into the forest. The trail curved between clusters of ancient trees, their violet-streaked foliage filtering the dimming light overhead, casting shifting shadows across the winding path.
He was heading further in.
Celes adjusted her stance, ready to follow.
She kept her steps light, measured, allowing distance to stretch between them while ensuring he remained within sight. The violet-streaked canopy above thickened, draping the forest in shifting shadows, filtering the last remnants of evening light.
Minutes passed.
Granolah never wavered, his path unwavering as he moved deeper into the trees.
Then, through the cracks between the thick foliage, something emerged.
A structure.
Domed, nestled within the heart of the forest, its curved frame barely visible through the gaps in the twisting branches.
Granolah was heading straight for it.
Celes slowed her pace, adjusting her position to get a clearer view.
This wasn't just a random path. This was his destination.
Granolah neared the door, his steps steady, unwavering.
Celes held her position at the edge of the treeline, her breath slow and controlled as she crouched behind the thick bark. The clearing stretched ahead, opening into a small patch of land untouched by the dense forest.
Then, the door creaked open.
A figure emerged, stepping into view.
Draped in layered robes, with green skin marked by age, his movements deliberate yet burdened with time.
Her other target.
Monaito.
Monaito stepped out, his movements slow but steady, his wooden cane tapping lightly against the ground as he surveyed the clearing. His gaze drifted toward Granolah, then beyond him.
"I see we have some visitors," he murmured, his tone calm but weighted.
Granolah stilled, confusion flickering across his face.
"Visitors?" he echoed, turning to follow Monaito's gaze, only for his breath to hitch the moment his eyes landed on her.
Celes.
She stood just at the treeline, her stance steady, her gaze unwavering.
Granolah's expression twisted, first shock, then frustration, the realization settling like a weight in his chest.
"How long?" he demanded, eyes narrowing. "How long have you been following me?"
Celes hesitated for only a fraction of a second before exhaling, stepping fully into the clearing.
"Since the market," she admitted without pause.
Granolah's jaw clenched.
Since the market?
His mind reeled. Hours had passed, an entire afternoon. And yet he had never noticed her presence.
Monaito watched the exchange, silent for a moment before shifting his grip on his cane, his aged features deep in thought.
Finally, he spoke.
"Well, that's quite a long time to be trailing someone," he said, tone measured. "That makes me wonder, what exactly are you looking for?"
Celes met his gaze.
"I was looking for you."
Monaito raised a brow slightly but remained composed, waiting.
Celes let the pause stretch for a moment longer before continuing.
"And I knew Granolah could lead me to you."
Granolah tensed again at the statement, his frustration now laced with something else, uncertainty.
Monaito studied her carefully, as if weighing her words, letting them settle before speaking.
"…And why would you be looking for me?"
Celes inhaled slowly, holding his gaze.
"You know my father."
She let the words linger before adding—
"Bardock."
Silence.
Monaito's fingers curled slightly around his cane as his eyes widened, just for a fleeting second.
Then, he exhaled, a quiet look of surprise crossing his face before settling into something deeper, something distant.
"…Bardock," he murmured, almost to himself. "It's been a long time since I've heard that name."
His grip relaxed, and after a lingering pause, he turned toward the house, pushing the door open.
"Well… I suppose we've got plenty to talk about."
He gestured inside.
"Come on in."
As Celes eased onto the couch, her posture remained composed, though her focus sharpened.
Monaito settled into the middle cushion, his wooden cane resting against his leg, his expression thoughtful but measured.
Granolah, however, lingered near the door, his arms crossed, stance firm, his eyes unwavering. Suspicion lingered in his gaze—still wary, still guarded.
Then—
Celes activated Thought Acceleration.
Immediately, the world shifted.
The flicker of Granolah's eye, the slight tap of Monaito's cane against the floor, the drifting sway of dust in the air, all slowed to an impossible crawl, a near standstill.
Every detail became crystalline, sharp, precise.
Time itself felt frozen.
Celes observed. Processed. Calculated.
Within that suspended moment, Celes reached out through her connection with Raphael.
"Analyze Monaito and Granolah," she instructed.
"Understood. Beginning analysis," Raphael responded without hesitation.
Immediately, a flood of information surged through Celes' mind, processing every aspect of their biology with perfect clarity. Every muscle fiber, every fluctuation in Ki, every genetic marker, it all unraveled before her at incomprehensible speeds.
Then, in her mind, the details aligned into structured data.
Monaito
Species: Namekian
Age: Advanced (Estimated at least 300+ years)
Power Level: 576
Biological Traits: Exceptional regeneration capabilities, enhanced durability, heightened spiritual awareness
Ki Control: Well-developed but deteriorated over time due to age
Physical Condition: Weakened yet stable, reliant on support (wooden cane usage detected)
Energy Signature: Non-combative, deeply attuned to healing and mystical forces
Granolah
Species: Cerealian
Age: Early 20s (Estimated lifespan at 200 years)
Power Level: 324
Biological Traits: Enhanced perception (due to evolved right eye), heightened physical endurance, amplified Ki-based precision
Ki Control: Strong, refined for accuracy rather than sheer power
Physical Condition: Prime combat capability, no signs of deterioration or fatigue
Energy Signature: Alert, combat-ready, slightly elevated due to recent tension
"Analysis complete," Raphael confirmed.
Celes absorbed the findings, letting them settle before preparing her next move.
With time still frozen in her accelerated perception, she gave her next order.
"Raphael, begin incorporating the lifespan extension into my genes. Calculate the estimated lifespan increase."
Raphael responded with immediate precision.
"Affirmative. Genetic integration in progress… Estimated lifespan: approximately 300 years."
Celes took a measured breath, internalizing the significance of such a change.
"Proceed with the next step," she instructed.
"Integrate Namekian regenerative abilities and enhanced healing, along with Cerealian heightened eyesight."
Raphael's response remained steady, devoid of hesitation.
"Beginning genetic assimilation… Processing Namekian regenerative traits… Integrating heightened visual perception…"
Celes could feel the shifts occurring within her own biology—subtle, yet undeniable.
Every alteration, every refined capability, taking shape within her being, shifts so subtle yet profound that she could feel them settling into place.
Celes steadied herself, her thoughts still moving at incomprehensible speeds within the frozen moment.
"Raphael, begin decoding the mechanics behind Magic Materialization and the Dormant Potential ability," she instructed.
"Understood. Commencing analysis… Due to proximity to a Namekian, data extraction and synthesis are expedited. Estimated completion time: one week," Raphael responded, her tone precise and mechanical.
Celes absorbed the information, letting it settle before giving her next command.
"Now, begin the process of learning telepathy and telekinesis."
"Acknowledged. Initiating cognitive adaptation… Mapping neurological pathways for telepathic communication… Synchronizing motor-link frameworks for telekinetic control… Estimated completion time: one day."
Even within her accelerated perception, she could sense the shifts, not just in her body, but within her mind.
The foundations of these abilities were taking root, subtle but undeniable shifts settling into her mind and body.
Celes took a final moment to assess.
Did she have everything she needed from Monaito and Granolah?
Raphael responded instantly.
"All available biological, cognitive, and mystical traits have been analyzed. No further data extraction is necessary."
Satisfied, Celes prepared her next move.
Her perception still stretched out into frozen time, but now, she was ready to return.
She exhaled.
Then, with a deliberate thought—
She deactivated Thought Acceleration.
The world snapped back into motion.
Sound returned. Movement resumed. Reality flowed once more.
Celes barely blinked, already expecting the shift, already knowing she had seconds to figure out her next move.
She had what she came for. That part was done.
But now came the hardest part, getting out of this without suspicion.
She hadn't planned on being noticed. She hadn't planned on explaining herself. She hadn't planned on talking to them at all.
Yet here she was, standing in front of Monaito and Granolah, as if she had been there all along.
She forced herself to stay still, to look composed, even as her thoughts ran through every possible way to slip out of this.
Running? Suspicious.
Lying? Needed the right words, fast.
She wasn't scrambling for answers, she was fine-tuning her escape.
What was the best way to bullshit her way out of this?
She took a slow breath, letting herself settle into the act before either of them could get too curious.
Then, a thought sparked, That might work.
(Words: 2046)