Year 733, Planet Earth
A world oblivious to the cosmos' tempests stretches beneath a sky of such pure blue that it resembles an inverted ocean, its seas gleaming like liquid crystal, and its green continents pulsating with carefree life. In a remote corner, where gentle hills rise and a forest whispers with the wind, the calm is shattered. A deep roar tears through the air, and a silver sphere pierces the atmosphere like a raging comet, engulfed in orange flames that shred the clouds to pieces. The spacecraft slams into the ground with an earth-shattering crash, kicking up a cloud of dust and rock fragments that fall like dry rain. Birds flee in flocks, their cries lost in the distance, and silence returns, heavy and laden with foreboding.
Then, the spacecraft's hatch hisses open with a sharp sound that slices through the stillness like a knife. Metal screeches as it slides, releasing plumes of white vapor that dissipate into the cool air, and a figure emerges like the presence of an ancient conqueror. Varek, a high-class Saiyan, sets foot on Earth for the first time. His black armor with golden plating gleams like molten gold under the sun, casting blinding flashes; its sharp edges and majestic design proclaim his status among the elite warriors of Planet Vegeta. The green scouter over his left eye blinks with a soft hum, scanning the environment with mechanical precision. His black hair, bristly and wild, is ruffled by the terrestrial breeze, and his tail, coiled elegantly around his waist, moves with a slow but deliberate rhythm. At 12 years old, his figure is a living paradox: a child with the aura of a tyrant, a warrior whose cold and calculating gaze promises a destiny that will subjugate worlds...
---
Varek POV
The cool air brushes against my face as I step out of the pod, and for a moment, I stand still, my eyes locked on the landscape unfolding before me. Green hills speckled with yellow and red flowers, a sky so clear it resembles a painting, and the gentle murmur of a stream winding between the rocks, its crystal-clear sound resonating in the silence. The scent of damp earth and fresh grass fills my lungs, and an unexpected knot forms in my throat. It's as if I've traveled back in time, to my past life. Memories invade my mind without permission: running through open fields with the sun warming my skin, the crunch of military boots on gravel, the echo of laughter in a camp beneath a sky just like this one, the taste of bitter coffee in a metal mug as we plotted impossible operations. I shake my head vigorously, frowning until it hurts. "Enough," I growl softly, clenching my fists until my knuckles crack. I didn't come here to get lost in pointless nostalgia. This planet may resemble my old home, but it's just another battlefield, one more stepping stone toward my goal.
I adjust my scouter with a quick flick of my wrist, and the device beeps as it powers on, its green light flashing in my periphery. I scan the power levels around me, more out of curiosity than necessity. The first result appears: 30. Pathetic. Though for humans, it's quite high; maybe it's Master Roshi or that old guy from the Crane School. Then, 190 appears, more intriguing, but still insignificant to me. A 220 follows, and I raise an eyebrow, intrigued. But then, the scouter flashes with a number that makes me stop dead in my tracks: 1030. My pulse quickens, and my mind starts racing. 1030 in this era? There shouldn't be humans this strong in this year. Goku hasn't been born, Piccolo Daimao is sealed in that ridiculous rice... But a detail hits me like a punch: the power levels of 190, 220, and 1030 are aligned in the same direction, northeast. Mr. Popo had power like that, didn't he?
Around 1000. Kami should be around 220, and Korin, that cocky cat, about 190. Yeah, it has to be Kami's Lookout.
A slow, sharp smile spreads across my face, and my eyes gleam with a mix of excitement and ambition. "Perfect," I whisper, taking off from the ground in a burst that kicks up a gust of dust and dry leaves. The wind envelops me with a deafening roar as I fly northeast, and a laugh escapes my throat, deep and savage. The air on Earth is so light that it feels like a joke compared to the crushing gravity of Planet Vegeta. My body feels like I could split a mountain with a single finger, and ki flows through my veins with an ease that makes me shudder with pure euphoria, giving me the sense that this place is a playground, and I am the king.
As I soar through the sky, something catches my eye below. A thin, white tower rises among the clouds, so tall that its summit is lost in the mist, its surface marked by time and wind. Korin Tower. I recognize it instantly, and a flash of my past life crosses my mind: sitting in front of an old TV with the volume low, watching Goku climb it with that idiot face while I munched on stale potato chips. I shake my head and keep flying, leaving the tower behind like an echo of a world that no longer belongs to me. The wind whips my face, and the afternoon sun tints the clouds a soft orange, casting long shadows over the land. This planet is beautiful, I admit, but I'm not here to admire it.
---
Minutes earlier, at Kami's Lookout
The Guardian's Lookout floats among the clouds, a structure of white marble and golden domes that glimmers under the afternoon sun like a celestial beacon. Its curved arches and ethereal design seem to defy the laws of physics, suspended in a silence broken only by the whisper of the wind between the columns. Kami, the Guardian of Earth, is seated on a carved stone chair, a cup of water trembling slightly in his green and wrinkled hands. His white robe billows in the breeze, and his eyes, sunken from centuries of wisdom, gaze at the horizon with a blend of calm and melancholy. Beside him, Mr. Popo, his black-skinned assistant adorned with a red turban, waters a pair of potted plants with a brass watering can, humming a soft melody that resonates in the air like a distant echo. The plants, small and delicate, glisten with water droplets under the golden light.
Kami takes a sip, the fresh water soothing his throat as he reflects on the humans below. Their petty wars over scraps of land, their fragile dreams of wealth and love, their lives so short and chaotic that they barely leave a mark on the universe. He sighs, resting the cup on his knee with a slow movement. "Sometimes I wonder if they're worth protecting," he murmurs, more to himself than to his companion. "They are so... blind to what lies beyond."
Mr. Popo inclines his head, his expression as unreadable as ever. "They always find a way to keep going, Kami-sama. It's their nature. They fall, but they rise. Like these plants." He lifts the watering can, allowing a final drop to fall onto a trembling leaf.
Kami manages a weak smile. "Perhaps you're right, Popo. But even so—"
His body suddenly tenses, as if an invisible lightning bolt has struck him. The teacup slips from his hand and shatters on the ground, the water splashing against the tiles with a sharp sound. "What is that ki?!" he exclaims, rising so quickly that the chair creaks under his weight and wobbles precariously. He spits out the water still in his mouth, coughing as a cold sweat breaks out on his forehead. His eyes widen, and his staff thumps against the ground as he tries to steady himself, his breathing quickening.
Mr. Popo sets down the watering can slowly, carefully placing it next to the flowerpots, but a bead of sweat glistens on his brow, betraying his usual calm. "I sense it too," he says quietly, his tone serene yet tinged with a barely perceptible tension.
Kami trembles, gripping the staff so tightly that the veins bulge on his green skin. "It's... such an evil ki. An immense, dark power, like a shadow crawling across the Earth. I've never felt anything like it here!" His mind races, searching for answers in a whirlwind of panic. An ancient demon released? An invader from outer space, like those rumors of beings from the far reaches of the universe? He takes a shaky step toward the edge of the temple, looking at the sky with a pale face, his eyes searching for something he can't yet see. "And it-it's heading towards us!"
Mr. Popo crosses his arms, his gaze fixed on the horizon where the clouds are tinged with orange. "It is strong, Kami-sama. Very strong. We must prepare. Whatever it is, it does not come in peace."
He swallows hard, his voice trembling as he murmurs, "May the Earth forgive me if I can't stop him..."
Varek POV
The temple appears before me like a vision torn from an ancient myth. A floating platform of white marble, with golden domes that gleam like tiny suns, suspended among the clouds with breathtaking elegance. The polished tiles reflect the sky like a mirror, and the air carries a clean, almost sacred aroma, mixed with a hint of ozone from the heights. I halt in the air a few meters away, mouth agape, my scanner blinking as it analyzes the structure. I saw it in my past life, on a blurry screen with faded colors, but this... this is real. It's magnificent. I shake my head to snap out of the trance and land with a thud, my boots echoing in the silence like a war drum announcing my arrival.
The impact reverberates through the tiles, and a small crack forms beneath my feet, a reminder of my strength in this world of low gravity.
Facing me, two figures observed me from the center of the temple. Kami-sama, an elderly Namekian clad in a white robe and holding a staff, his sunken eyes gleaming with a mix of surprise and mistrust, his green skin wrinkled by time. Beside him stands Mr. Popo, adorned with a red turban and exuding an unsettling calm that seems to conceal an abyss of secrets, his hands clasped in front of him. They regard me as if I were an impossible puzzle, and I suppose I look at them the same way. They were cartoons in my previous life, characters from a story I watched with a can of soda in hand, and now they stand here, breathing, alive, gazing at me with eyes that sense my power.
Kami breaks the silence first, his voice trembling yet laced with authority. "A child? All that power comes from... a child?" His staff strikes the ground once, as if trying to anchor himself to reality.
I smile, crossing my arms in a slow, deliberate motion, my golden armor creaking slightly. "Don't let my age fool you, old man. I'm stronger than I appear."
He regains his composure, leaning more heavily on his staff, his eyes narrowing as he studies me. "Who are you, and what do you seek on Earth?" His tone is dry and curt, but I can sense the fear behind his words, a subtle scent that makes me curl my lips even further.
I take a deep breath, keeping my voice cold and controlled, letting each word drop like a stone. "I am Varek, a Saiyan from Planet Vegeta. I heard that on this planet, there is someone who has mastered the control of something called ki. I came to learn it to perfect my skills and become the strongest warrior in the universe."
Kami mutters something low, almost inaudible. "A Saiyan..." The name seems to burn his tongue, and his expression hardens as if he has bitten into something bitter. He lifts his chin, his eyes flashing with a spark of defiance. "No. I can feel your spirit, young one. It is full of malice, ambition, a darkness that threatens to consume everything it touches. I will not train someone like you. I will not place that power in the hands of such a corrupt heart!"
Rage surges through my chest like a burning wave, hot and savage. Evil? Corrupt? What a hypocrite! This old man knows nothing about me, about what I've sacrificed, about what I plan to build with my power. My Saiyan blood boils, urging me to rip his head off and stick his staff in the ground as a trophy, but a thought stops me, and I curse myself silently. Right, I forgot that Kami can read ki like it's a damn open book. I am a pure Saiyan; my nature is savage, and my past life as a soldier, full of blood and betrayals, doesn't help to soften things. I clench my fists until my knuckles crack, the sound echoing in the silence, and I fight the urge to erupt. My tail swishes behind me, striking the air with a furious rhythm, but I swallow the fury and force an icy smile, letting my eyes gleam with calculated menace.
"Let's make a deal," I say, my voice low but sharp as a honed blade. "I offer to help protect this planet in exchange for you training me. Think about it: a warrior like me on your side. But if you refuse..." I pause, making my smile sharper, my fangs showing slightly as I tilt my head. "I'll have no choice but to destroy some of those human cities down there. What do you say, old man? Do you save your world or watch it burn?"
It's a blatant lie, and I know it deep down. I wouldn't touch this planet, not after what it means to me, not after the memories it awakens in every corner of my soul. But Kami can't see that, and his face pales, his hands trembling on the staff until the wood creaks under his fingers. Mr. Popo steps forward, his calm unbroken but his eyes fixed on me as if he's measuring every movement, every breath. The air between us crackles with tension, so thick you could cut it with my knife.
After a silence that stretches for hours, Kami sighs, defeated, his voice barely a whisper. "I accept... but with one condition. You must swear to protect the Earth from any future enemy. If you fail, and betray this pact, I will stop you, even if it costs me my life."
"Deal," I reply, relaxing my shoulders with a satisfaction that I don't fully reveal—a small victory, but enough for now.
Kami nods, though distrust doesn't leave his eyes, two dark pits that bore into me. "You will train with Mr. Popo until you master your ki completely. It will not be easy, and I will not tolerate tricks or deception. Understood?"
I raise a hand before he continues, cutting off his lecture with a curt gesture. "Give me a few days first. I have a business to take care of with the humans down below. Don't worry, I won't interfere with your precious protected ones... yet."
Kami frowns, his lips tightening into a thin line, his fingers drumming on his staff. "What business? If you're planning something—"
"None of your concern," I interrupt, my tone sharp as a whip. "It doesn't involve you, old man. Relax. I won't burn anything down... for now."
He sighs again, resigned, his shoulders slumping slightly. "Fine. But come back soon, and don't do anything that endangers this world. I'll be watching you."
Without another word, I turn with a sharp movement, my armor creaking, and fly towards my pod, lifting it with one hand as if it were a toy. The scouter blinks in my eye, detecting a cluster of ki to the west: a large, bustling city, full of life. Perfect. I take off with a roar, leaving the temple behind, the wind whistling in my ears as the sun begins to sink below the horizon.
---
The flight to West City is quick, the terrestrial landscape sliding beneath my feet like a blurred painting of greens and blues. I step onto the streets, the ship in my hand, the cold metal against my palm, and the city's bustle hit me like a wave. Tall buildings of glass and steel reflect the setting sun, cars hum down the avenues with a constant drone, and humans rush back and forth carrying bags, shouting into primitive phones, or shoving each other on the sidewalks. The air smells of burnt gasoline, fried food, and sweat, so different from the dry dust and hot metal of Planet Vegeta.
I pause for a moment in front of a street stall, a rusty cart with a faded green awning. A fat man is frying something that smells of meat and spices, the sizzling of the oil filling the air with an aroma that makes my stomach rumble. I pull out a handful of Draks from my backpack, but the guy looks at me with a frown, shaking his head. "We only accept Zeni here, kid," he grunts, wiping his hands on a dirty apron. I scowl, putting the coins away. Of course, this planet has its currency. How inconvenient. I keep walking, memorizing the problem to solve it later.
Gazes follow me as I move down the street. The golden parts of my armor shine like a beacon, reflecting the lights of the buildings, and my tail sways behind me, attracting whispers and curious eyes. A small child, with messy hair and a stained t-shirt, points at me from the sidewalk, his eyes wide as saucers. "Mommy, look! He has a tail!" His mother, a thin woman with shopping bags, drags him away with a panicked expression, casting a nervous glance over her shoulder. I notice the situation, but decide to ignore it, continuing on my way through the city.
I ask a skinny man with glasses and a wrinkled shirt where Capsule Corporation is, and he points to a massive building at the end of the avenue, its white dome dominating the horizon like an artificial moon. "It's that one right there, kid," he says, adjusting his glasses with a shaky finger. "Hard to miss, heh heh." I nod and continue on my way, the weight of the capsule in my hand reminding me of my purpose. The streets are full of life: an old man plays an out-of-tune accordion on a corner, a group of teenagers laughs in front of a record store, and the aroma of fresh-baked bread wafts from a nearby bakery. It's so different from Planet Vegeta, but so similar to my past life that I feel a knot in my chest that I can't ignore.
I arrive at Capsule Corporation and enter through the automatic doors, a soft whir accompanying my step. The reception area is spacious, with white walls and a floor so polished it reflects my armor like a mirror. The air smells of disinfectant and new metal, and a young receptionist with her hair pulled back in a bun looks at me from behind a curved desk. I set the capsule on the floor with a thud that makes the pens on her desk tremble, and her face pales slightly.
"I'm here to see Dr. Brief," I say, my voice as sharp as a knife, leaving no room for doubt.
She blinks, nervous, her eyes darting from the capsule to my armor and then to my tail, which twitches slowly behind me. "Uh... you don't have an appointment, sir," she stammers, adjusting a strand of hair with shaky fingers. "You need to schedule one—"
My patience wavers and a growl rises from my throat, deep and dangerous. An appointment? I didn't come from the other side of the galaxy to wait for an appointment. "Tell him I'm here, now." My tail strikes the floor with a dry thwack, and she recoils in her chair, her hands fumbling for the phone.
But before I can call out, a figure passes through the hallway to my right. A thin, young man, with messy blue hair and a white lab coat stained with grease and ink. Clean-shaven, with bright eyes behind small glasses that are slipping down his nose. Dr. Brief, but… what the hell? I stand there staring at him, blinking like an idiot, my mind stumbling over the image. In my past life, I remembered him as old, and fat, with that ridiculous mustache and an eternal cigarette in his mouth. Here, he looks barely an adult, skinny as a rail, with the nervous energy of someone who hasn't slept in days. I shake my head, recomposing myself. Right, it's 733. Bulma isn't even born yet. Makes sense, but it still shakes me to see him like this.
"Hey, you!" I call out, my voice cutting through the air like a whip. He stops, turning around with a raised eyebrow, his glasses reflecting the light from the lobby.
"Yes?" he says, adjusting his glasses with a finger as he looks me up and down. "I don't know you, kid, but that armor... and that sphere." He approaches with quick steps, his eyes shining like a child's in front of a new puzzle. He picks up the capsule from the floor without asking permission, turning it over with agile fingers. "Fascinating... This isn't Earth technology. The design is aerodynamic, compact, and metal... Does it travel through space?"
I nod, crossing my arms impatiently. "I'm Varek, from Planet Vegeta. Yes, it's a spaceship. I want you to study it and see if you can do something useful with it. A gravity chamber, specifically. Can you?"
Brief freezes, blinking as if he just woke up from a dream. "Planet Vegeta? So you're... an alien?" His voice goes up an octave, and his glasses slip a little further down his nose. He takes a step back, looking at me with a mixture of amazement and caution. "But you look so human! The skin, the hair... except for that tail, you could pass for a kid from here. How is that possible?"
I sigh, rubbing my temple with a finger. Of course, this guy has no idea what's out there. "I'm not human, I'm a Saiyan. My species looks like yours on the outside, but we're stronger and more resilient. The tail is just part of it. Don't get so excited, it's not that rare in the universe."
Briefs scratch his head, processing my words, his eyes jumping between my face and the capsule. "A Saiyan... Incredible. Intelligent life beyond Earth! This changes everything. And you say you want a gravity chamber? What's that?"
"A machine that increases gravity," I explain, my tone hardening with impatience. "On my planet, the gravity is ten times greater than here. I need something like that to train and get stronger. Can you make it or not?"
He's silent for a moment, frowning as he examines the capsule more closely, his fingers tracing the lines of the metal. "Artificial gravity... That's light years beyond what we've achieved. We're just starting with compression capsules, and that only store small objects like clothes or tools. Look." He takes a capsule from his lab coat pocket, a tiny cylinder with a red button, and presses it. With a puff of smoke, a toolbox appears, falling to the floor with a thud. "This is the most advanced thing I have right now. I'll analyze your ship, and try to understand its technology, but a gravity chamber... I'm not promising miracles, kid."
I sigh, disappointed, my tail hitting the ground with an irritated rhythm. I expected more from this genius, but of course, it's only 733. Capsule Corporation is in its infancy compared to what it will be in the future. "Do what you can," I say, taking the device with the "B" off my backpack and placing it in his hands with a brusque movement. "Look at this too. I found it on my planet. I want to know what it is."
The brief takes it, turning it over with curiosity in his fingers. The metal shines under the lobby light, and the engraved "B" seems to absorb the doctor's attention. "Interesting... A 'B.' An emblem? A manufacturer's mark? It's unlike anything I've seen. I'll study it with the ship. Come, into my workshop. Would you like some tea?"
Before I can answer, a laughing, blonde woman enters from a side door, carrying a tray with a teapot and cups. "Oh, a guest! I'm Panchy, the doctor's wife. Tea, dear?" Her voice is cheerful, almost musical, and she offers me a cup with a smile that seems to ignore my armor and tail. I accept it out of politeness, though the sweet, floral aroma makes me wrinkle my nose. I take a sip, and the heat burns my tongue, but I swallow it without complaint.
Meanwhile, Brief continues to chatter about the ship—"the circuits seem to use an unknown alloy, and the engine must be incredibly efficient"—a girl enters the workshop with a chocolate in her hand. Straight, shiny blonde hair, and big, curious eyes that look at me with a mix of intrigue and impudence. Tights, Bulma's older sister. She's about 11 years old, and she stops in front of me, tilting her head as if evaluating a rare animal. "Who are you?" she asks, her voice clear and direct. "Why are you wearing that weird armor? And that tail? Is it real?"
"None of your business," I reply, but her innocence brings out a half-smile I can't help. "Yes, it's real. And I'm Varek. That's all you need to know, kid."
Tights frown, crossing her arms. "I'm not a kid, I'm 11 years old. And you don't look much older. What are you doing here? Are you a friend of Dad's?"
"Not exactly," I say, looking at Brief, who's still lost in the capsule. "Let's just say we have a deal."
Panchy laughs, pouring more tea. "Such a serious boy! Tights, don't bother the guest. Would you like a chocolate, Varek?"
"No, thank you," I reply, raising a hand. My mind is already on something else. I glance at Brief, who's scribbling notes in a notebook with one hand while holding the capsule with the other. "Hey, Doctor. I need something else. Earth money. Zeni, right? I can't use my credits here, and I have things to buy."
Brief looks up, blinking in surprise. "Zeni? Oh, right, right. I hadn't thought of that. How much do you need?"
"Enough for food and supplies for a few days," I say, shrugging. "I don't know how much that is here."
He scratches his head, sets the notebook aside, and pulls a wallet out of his lab coat. "Let's see... This should do it." He hands me a wad of colorful bills, each with numbers and drawings of dragons and birds. "That's 500 Zeni. It's not much, but it'll cover food and a little extra. If you need more, come back."
I take the bills, examining them curiously. They're lighter than Draks, and the paper crinkles between my fingers. "Thanks," I say, stowing them in my backpack next to the tea I don't plan on finishing. "Let me know if you discover anything with the ship or the device."
"Sure thing, kid!" Brief says, returning to his workshop with the capsule and the object in hand, his voice echoing with enthusiasm. "This is going to be fun. Come back anytime!"
Tights is still staring at me, now crunching on her chocolate. "Are you going to stay in the city?" she asks, tilting her head again.
"For now," I reply, heading for the door. "See ya, shorty."
"I'm not short!" she yells behind me, but I don't turn around. I exit the workshop with a smile, the echo of her voice fading into the bustle of the lobby.
---
I leave Capsule Corporation and walk the streets of West City, letting the chaos envelop me like a noisy blanket. With Zeni in hand, I stop at a street vendor and buy a hamburger, the seller chuckling slightly at the sight of my armor. The first bite is like a punch to the past: juicy meat, soft bread, a taste I haven't had since my life on Earth. I buy an ice cream afterward, devouring it as I walk down an avenue full of shops and flashing lights, the cold sweetness melting on my tongue and dripping down my fingers. The stares of the humans follow me, whispers floating around me like flies, but I ignore them, lost in the pleasure of flavors I had missed for years.
I pass a small park where children are running after a ball and a dog barks from a bench. I stop for a moment, leaning against a lamppost, and look at the sky. The sun sinks, tinging everything orange and purple, and a cool breeze caresses my face, carrying with it the scent of flowers and hot asphalt. Earth... it's more than I expected. Kami, Mr. Popo, the Briefs, this city. All of this is just the beginning. I lift the capsule with my backpack, now compressed thanks to Brief, and fly back to the temple, the wind whistling in my ears, my mind buzzing with plans and promises. Earth will be my testing ground, and I, its future emperor...