The silence was the loudest sound. The shattered fragments of the scouters, still smoking on the ground, were the only proof of what had happened. Vegeta, the Prince of Saiyans, stared at Piccolo, his features locked in a rictus of pure, unadulterated fear.
"It's a malfunction," Vegeta's voice was thin, choked with forced rage. "It's cheap, third-rate technology! There's no way these insects are that strong!"
Nappa, less intelligent and fueled purely by his Saiyan arrogance, recovered quicker. He glanced at the ground, then back at the seven warriors. "Malfunction or not, they look ready to fight. Let's start with the bald midgets! Get out of my way, Vegeta!"
Nappa roared and charged forward, a massive, accelerating blur aimed at Krillin and Yamcha. He was reckless, relying on his brute strength.
Goku appeared directly in Nappa's path, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his Gi pants, his expression one of bored disappointment. Nappa, unable to stop his forward momentum, instinctively swung a huge, armored fist. The fist collided with Goku's perfectly centered palm, which was raised just an instant before impact.
The resulting sound was a deafening thwump of compressed air, followed by the sickening shriek of tearing metal. Nappa's entire arm went numb up to the shoulder. His battle armor cracked and crumpled around the forearm.
"Too slow," Goku commented, his voice flat.
Before Nappa could process the pain or the impossible speed, Goku pulled his hand back and delivered a single, open-palmed slap to Nappa's massive chest plate. The strike was so fast it looked like a ripple in the air.
Nappa went flying backward, crossing the rocky outskirts of the city and plowing a smoking furrow through the dirt before crashing into a small hill. His breath was gone, and his chest armor was concave, bent inward like a crushed tin can. He lay there gasping, utterly defeated.
The entire exchange took less than two seconds.
Vegeta stared at Nappa's pathetic heap, the shock now settling into a paralyzing, cold certainty. The readings were real. The Namekian and the clown were gods of war.
'I have to run. I have to live. This is impossible,' the Prince thought frantically.
With a high-pitched cry of desperation, Vegeta channeled every ounce of his destructive power into a single, desperate attack. He leaped high into the air, cupped his hands, and unleashed the Galick Gun, a purple torrent of destructive ki designed to erase the planet.
"If I can't have this world, neither can they!" Vegeta screamed, aiming the deadly beam directly at Goku.
Piccolo didn't move from his spot. He simply raised his index and middle fingers to his forehead, charging his own attack.
"Pathetic," Piccolo muttered.
As the massive purple beam tore toward the Earth, Piccolo released his Special Beam Cannon. It was a thick, blunt, white beam of pure, overwhelming energy.
The two beams met mid-air. Piccolo's ki simply absorbed the Galick Gun. Vegeta's beam vanished into the white torrent as if it were a candle flame against a hurricane.
Piccolo retracted his attack, leaving the sky clear, the air smelling of ozone and defeat.
Vegeta, left hanging in the air, watched the realization dawn on his face: he had just fired his strongest attack, and the Namekian had erased it without effort.
'I need more information,' Kaito thought, watching the entire, utterly one-sided battle through the System feed, his hand poised over a single token button. 'I can't let him die yet. Vegeta is too valuable for the future.'
Goku, noticing Vegeta's petrified state, pointed a finger directly at the Saiyan Prince.
"You're done," Goku said calmly. "It's over."
Vegeta, faced with utter annihilation, knew he could not flee. He powered down to his base ki level, descended slowly to the ground next to the wreckage of Nappa, and stood shivering. The conquest of Earth had become a surrender in less than five minutes.