Celes took a slow breath, her gaze steady as she looked at Granolah.
"I know words can't undo the past," she said softly. "But for what the Saiyan's did to your people… I'm sorry."
Granolah's expression was unreadable, his fingers still hovering near his weapon.
"Apologies won't bring them back," he muttered.
Celes didn't flinch.
"No, they won't," she agreed. "But I didn't come here just to say that."
Granolah narrowed his eyes, suspicion sharp in his stare.
"Then why did you come?"
Celes exhaled, glancing at Monaito before returning her gaze to Granolah.
Celes took a step forward, her gaze unwavering.
Without a word, she lifted her hand and pointed at the small Dragon Ball hanging from Monaito's neck.
"I came here for a reason," she said. "To use the Dragon Balls… to revive the Namekian's and Cerealian's of Planet Cereal."
Silence.
Granolah stiffened, his breath caught in his throat.
Monaito's eyes widened, his fingers subconsciously gripping the orb at his neck.
"You want to… revive them?" Monaito's voice was quiet, almost hesitant, as if he couldn't believe what he had just heard.
Granolah, however, was less composed.
"Why?" His tone was sharp, filled with suspicion. "What do you gain from this?"
Celes met Granolah's glare with unwavering calm.
Instead of answering his question, she tilted her head slightly and asked, "Do you know what a Mortal Level is?"
Granolah blinked, momentarily caught off guard.
Monaito furrowed his brows, exchanging a glance with Granolah before shaking his head.
"Mortal Level?" he echoed. "I've never heard of that before."
Celes crossed her arms, nodding as if expecting that response.
"It's the collective average power level of the universe," she explained. "A measurement that determines how strong mortal beings are in the universe."
Granolah narrowed his eyes.
"And what does that have to do with the Namekian's and Cerealian's?"
Celes exhaled, her gaze steady.
"Everything."
Celes' expression remained firm as she continued.
"When the Mortal Level of the universe lowers… something very bad will happen," she said, her tone carrying an unsettling weight.
Granolah furrowed his brows, his wariness deepening.
"Something very bad?" he echoed, skepticism lacing his voice. "What exactly are you talking about?"
Monaito watched her closely, his fingers curling slightly as a sense of unease settled in his chest.
Celes took a slow breath before saying the words that would change everything.
"What's coming will make the Frieza Force's invasion of this planet look like a joke."
Silence.
The air in the room felt heavier, as if the weight of her statement had pulled everything down with it.
Granolah clenched his teeth.
"What do you mean by that?"
Monaito and Granolah exchanged tense glances, unease creeping into their expressions.
"You're saying something worse is on its way?"
Celes met both of their gazes, unwavering.
"Much, much worse."
Granolah stiffened, his hands twitching slightly near his weapon.
Monaito frowned, his voice cautious.
"What exactly is coming?"
Celes exhaled but didn't answer. Instead, her gaze flickered, just for a moment, before she turned away slightly, crossing her arms.
Granolah narrowed his eyes.
"You're avoiding the question."
Celes didn't respond to that either.
Instead, after a brief pause, she spoke again, calm, measured.
"Do you know why the Mortal Level is dropping?"
Monaito exchanged a glance with Granolah, caught off guard by the shift in the conversation.
Granolah furrowed his brows.
"No," he admitted, voice low but firm. "Why?"
Celes nodded slightly, as if expecting that answer.
"It's because of Frieza."
Granolah clenched his fists, his breath sharp.
But before either of them could respond, she added—
"And another person though I won't get into that."
Granolah frowned but didn't press, at least, not yet.
"Frieza has been destroying inhabited planets," Celes continued. "Not just wiping out civilizations, erasing them entirely. It's more than war. It's genocide."
Monaito's expression darkened, his fingers curling slightly.
Granolah narrowed his eyes.
"Then why have you come to revive the Namekian's and Cerealian's?"
His tone was sharp, suspicion laced in every word.
Celes met Granolah's gaze, unwavering.
"Reviving them serves a greater purpose," she said.
Granolah narrowed his eyes.
"And what purpose is that?"
Celes exhaled, keeping her stance firm.
"First, it will increase the Mortal Level of the universe. The more thriving civilizations, the higher the balance shifts."
She took a slow step forward.
"Second, it will weaken the Frieza Force's influence."
Monaito and Granolah exchanged glances, their suspicion lingering.
"Frieza controls this part of the galaxy through those he keeps in power—those who maintain his grip on the outer worlds."
She paused, glancing toward Monaito's necklace, the small Dragon Ball dangling from it.
"The Heeter's were just traders," Celes explained. "But they hired the Frieza Force for their services, making them a direct contributor to his empire's reach."
Granolah clenched his fists but stayed silent.
"With them gone, that connection is severed."
She met his stare.
"And that's a step in the right direction, but it's still not enough."
Granolah clenched his fists but stayed silent.
"Once my work here is done, I'll be traveling," Celes continued. "Many planets, many civilizations, those who have suffered under Frieza's influence for far too long."
Granolah's expression tightened.
"And what exactly do you plan on doing?"
Celes met his stare, her voice steady.
"Getting rid of his control, lowering his grip on the galaxy."
Silence settled between them, heavy with implications.
Granolah's mind raced with possibilities.
And yet, for the first time… he wasn't sure what to say.
Monaito furrowed his brows, exchanging a glance with Granolah before voicing the concern lingering in both their minds.
"If the Frieza Force is removed from the galaxy, wouldn't that lower the Mortal Level even more?"
Granolah crossed his arms, suspicion still sharp in his gaze.
"You're talking about cutting down Frieza's influence, but if he's been responsible for wiping out civilizations, wouldn't taking him out just speed up the drop in Mortal Level?"
Celes remained unfazed, meeting his gaze directly.
"That's why my plan doesn't stop at removing Frieza's influence," she explained. "It's not just about eliminating destruction, it's about rebuilding strength."
Granolah narrowed his eyes.
"Rebuilding?"
Celes gave a small nod.
"I intend to create a galaxy-wide system to steadily increase power levels throughout the universe."
Monaito raised a brow.
"What kind of system?"
Celes exhaled.
"I won't get into that."
Granolah scoffed, still unconvinced.
"So what? That just means you're putting Saiyan's in control of the galaxy."
Celes shook her head.
"No. It won't."
Granolah's fingers curled slightly, tension still present in his posture.
"How?"
Celes met his stare without hesitation.
"Because Planet Vegeta and the Saiyan's were wiped out the same way the Cerealian's were," she said, her voice calm but firm. "By the Frieza Force. By Frieza himself."
Silence.
Granolah froze, his breath hitching ever so slightly.
The truth, something he had never considered, now hung between them.
Celes watched him carefully before speaking again.
"You have a choice," she said, her voice even but firm.
Granolah's breath steadied, his eyes narrowing slightly.
"A choice?"
Celes nodded.
"You can remain hidden. Do nothing. Keep living as you have, waiting for the universe to decide your fate."
Monaito exhaled slowly, listening intently.
"Or…"
Celes stepped forward.
"You can help me."
Granolah's fists clenched.
"Help you?"
Celes met his gaze without hesitation.
"Once the Heeter's are gone, I'll be reviving the Namekian's and Cerealian's who once lived here."
Granolah's breath hitched again, but he said nothing.
"They will need guidance," Celes continued. "Structure. A chance to rebuild their lives among the Sugarian's who now call this planet home."
She held his stare.
"I can do the revival. But if they're going to stand on their own again, they'll need people who understand them. Who know what was lost. Who can lead them forward."
Monaito sat in silence, the weight of her words pressing down.
Granolah turned slightly, gazing out toward the distant remains of his city.
The offer wasn't just about survival.
It was about rebuilding.
And the decision was his to make.
Celes let the weight of her words settle before she took a step back, crossing her arms.
"I won't ask for an answer now," she said, her tone calm but firm. "This is your choice, one only you can make."
Granolah kept his gaze locked on the horizon, the distant remains of his city still standing in the background.
Monaito exhaled slowly, watching the young Cerealian carefully.
"You'll have until I return," Celes continued. "By then, the Heeter's will be gone. And I'll have the other Dragon Ball."
Granolah stiffened slightly at her words.
"And when that time comes," she finished, "I'll need to know if you plan on stepping forward or staying in the shadows."
With that, Celes turned away, preparing to leave.
Monaito and Granolah remained where they stood, the weight of their decision pressing against them more than ever.
(Words: 1491)