4.1 The Final Push
The year was 2008.
The news was dominated by two things: a global financial crisis and the sudden, dramatic reappearance of Tony Stark, now proclaiming himself Iron Man. The Age of Superheroes had officially dawned, and Ronin was seventeen, a senior in high school, and dangerously close to the power he needed.
He had pushed the Gravitational Regulator to its absolute limit. After nearly two years, the small artifact was now sustaining a constant 4x Earth Gravity field in his basement gym. Every movement was a struggle, a brutal testament to his Saiyan tenacity.
Physically, Ronin was a marvel. His movements were a blur of efficiency, his punches could shatter cinder blocks, and his endurance was inhuman. He had mastered all the techniques of the Turtle School and the Crane School, weaving them into his own devastating, adaptive martial arts style.
Yet, the golden fire eluded him. He was strong, fast, and skilled, but the final psychological trigger—the confluence of extreme danger, intense focus, and pure, concentrated rage—had not occurred.
He was meditating one afternoon in 4G, every muscle screaming under the crushing weight. His Ki, a volatile, swirling current of energy, was pushing against his physical shell, ready to burst.
"It's not enough," Ronin gritted out, the words tasting like copper. "I need more pressure. I need to break."
He decided to force the issue. That night, Ronin focused every ounce of his will on his Ki. He thought of his former life, the terrorist bomber, the flash of white light. He thought of the impending cosmic threats: Thanos, the Chitauri, Ultron. He focused on the vast, terrifying gap between his current strength and the power he needed to protect his family and his girls.
The effort was overwhelming. A faint, golden aura tried to breach his skin, only to flicker and die, slamming back into him with punishing force. The failure was almost as agonizing as the pressure.
He kept pushing, day after day, until one evening, the sheer fatigue, the frustration of failure, and the cosmic fear of inadequacy boiled over.
4.2 The Catalyst: Chaos in Queens
Ronin was walking home from a late-night study session with Gwen Stacy. Gwen had already gone inside her apartment building, a comforting, loving hug his only reward for their hours of physics debate.
He was rounding the corner onto his quiet street when he saw it.
His family's home, the safe haven of his second life, was engulfed in chaos. Two men—thugs from a rival gang of the ones he'd beaten before, emboldened by the belief that the "spice merchant's kid" had left town—were kicking in the front door.
But it wasn't the break-in that triggered him. It was the sight of Anya, his beautiful, fierce older sister, suddenly appearing in the doorway with a baseball bat, trying to defend the home, her face a mask of terror and defiant fury.
A massive thug slammed his fist into the baseball bat, shattering the wood. He then grabbed Anya by the hair, dragging her screaming towards the porch steps.
That was it.
All the controlled fear, all the suppressed rage, all the inherent protective instinct of the Saiyan warrior exploded. It wasn't about saving the world; it was about protecting the Anchor.
"LEAVE HER ALONE!"
The shout wasn't just a sound; it was a physical force, a shockwave of latent Ki energy.
Ronin crossed the fifty feet to his house in a fraction of a second, moving faster than any conventional human could track. He didn't think; he simply reacted.
He didn't need the Gate of Babylon. He didn't need a Noble Phantasm. He needed pure, unadulterated power.
The thug holding Anya turned, his face contorted in surprise. Before he could register the threat, Ronin slammed a precise, Ki-infused punch into the man's gut. The force was enough to lift the two-hundred-pound man off his feet, sending him flying ten feet into a parked car with a deafening, metallic crash.
The second thug froze, staring at the sheer devastation.
Ronin stood there, his body trembling violently. The pain was gone, replaced by a blinding, white-hot fury. The world looked sharp, fast, and agonizingly slow at the same time.
He felt the core of his being break.
A low, guttural roar escaped his lips—not of pain, but of catharsis. A storm of golden, shimmering Ki erupted from his body, tearing apart the asphalt beneath his feet.
The transformation was absolute.
His hair spiked up, turning a brilliant, shocking gold. His eyes flashed an emerald green. A roaring, powerful golden aura surrounded him, crackling with unrestrained energy. His muscles bulked slightly, radiating a dense, terrifying power.
Super Saiyan. Level 1.
The raw power was intoxicating, overwhelming, and utterly focused. He looked at the second thug, and the thug screamed—a sound of pure terror—and scrambled away, forgetting his partner.
Ronin didn't chase him. He slowly turned, the golden aura flickering around him. He saw Anya, wide-eyed, unharmed, staring at him. He saw the broken porch, the dented car, the shattered asphalt.
The rage slowly receded, replaced by a wave of crushing exhaustion and dizzying shock.
The golden light subsided. His hair returned to its familiar, silky black. He looked like the normal, handsome seventeen-year-old again, save for the intense, emerald green flecks that lingered briefly in his eyes.
Anya rushed forward, throwing her arms around him. "Ronin! What was that? Are you okay? You... you glowed."
Ronin hugged her back tightly, his heart hammering. "I'm okay, Di. Just adrenaline. I just... I had to hit him harder than I thought."
He had no viable cover story for a gold-haired transformation. He would have to hope the thugs were too scared to report the details, and that Anya was too shocked to trust her memory.
4.3 The King's Treasury
The next morning, exhausted but radiating a newfound, contained energy, Ronin checked the Gate of Babylon.
System Notification: Saiyan Power Threshold Achieved. Super Saiyan Transformation Unlocked.
Major Heroic Action: Defense of Family/Home (Ki Manifestation).
Gate of Babylon: Access Level 4 Unlocked. Divine and Mythological Artifacts with Power Lock Removal.
He focused on the Gate, wanting to see what significant power he had unlocked. He focused on the need for a defensive tool—something that could protect his secrets and his family from the inevitable attention his heroics would bring.
Gate of Babylon: Searching Level 4... Match Found: Avalon.
Not just a sword. But the Sheath of the King.
A faint golden portal, the size of a coin, shimmered for the first time beside his hand. From it, he pulled an item so simple and yet so profound it took his breath away: a plain, silver Sheath, worn and ancient, radiating an intense, protective warmth.
Avalon: The Everdistant Utopia.
He knew its lore: it granted immortality and near-instantaneous regeneration when held, and acted as an impenetrable force field when activated at its fullest potential.
The power lock was gone. The artifact was ready. He had earned the legendary defense of King Arthur.
Ronin slipped the sheath into a hidden compartment he had sewn into his backpack. With the Saiyan path opened and the Avalon in his possession, he was no longer just an aspiring hero. He was a force.
The world had its first Iron Man. And Queens, New York, had its first dormant Super Saiyan, ready to face the chaos to come.