He was going to become the wish. Deep within the core of Namek, the original Namekian elder had whispered a secret to Nail before dying: “The Dragon Balls are not just orbs of power. They are memory. If one who has touched the heart of a Namekian—truly touched it—offers their own life force, the balls can grant one final, silent wish. No summoning. No dragon. Just a single act of selfless will.”

“But the Dragon Balls are scattered! Porunga can’t—”

Goku’s golden aura flickered and faded. His hair returned to black. His muscles softened. He was no longer a Super Saiyan. He was just a man. A father. A friend.