Champa decided today would be the day he introduced his daughter he's been hiding to the warriors of Universe 6—Hit, Frost (begrudgingly), Caulifa, Kale, and Cabba. It's been years since he conceived her with a woman he and his brother Beerus were involved with. After Beerus discovered that Jane, her biological mother, had birthed a child he fathered, he'd had enough and dropped her off at Universe 6. At first, Champa tried to weasel his way out of responsibility, but Vados sternly held him accountable, and he'd reluctantly agreed to care for her. He'd thought he'd hate the idea of parenting, but as she grew, he became concerned and even protective. Now, with the Tournament of Power looming tomorrow, he'd decided after years of keeping her in his home that it was time for introductions.

The air in the training grounds felt heavy with anticipation as Champa approached the group. The scent of fresh grass mingled with the faint ozone of powerful auras. Hit turned to face the God of Destruction, immediately noticing the female figure standing shyly behind him—nervous, fidgeting with her hands in an awkward stim pattern. He noted her autism immediately and subtly adjusted his aura to be more accepting, not wanting to spook her with his usual intensity.

"Lord Champa," Hit acknowledged with a nod, his deep voice resonating softly in the open space.

Cabba stepped forward, his Saiyan curiosity getting the better of him. "Woah! Who is that behind you, Lord Champa?"

Frost's eyes narrowed with intrigue. "Yeah, who is that..."

Hit's gaze snapped toward Frost, his posture tensing with distrust. He fixed the galactic tyrant with a silent warning—"Don't even try anything"—that made Frost snort and look away.

Kale leaned toward Caulifa, her voice barely audible. "She looks so... small," she whispered, her brow furrowed with concern as she took in the young woman's hesitant stance.

"And weak!" Caulifa declared loudly, crossing her arms with typical Saiyan bluntness, her voice carrying clearly across the training grounds.

Hit sighed audibly and shook his head. "She isn't small nor weak. Wait until Lord Champa says something," he said, his tone firm but not unkind.

Once everyone quieted down, Champa smiled proudly, placing a protective hand on his daughter's shoulder. "This is my daughter," he announced with authority, "my only daughter, and I've had her with me for years. I want you all to keep her safe and treat her well—that goes for the others who aren't in this conversation too." His voice boomed with the power of a God of Destruction, leaving no room for argument.