"On Planet Vegeta, strength is admired—until it threatens the throne."
Fahla felt it before the message arrived.
A tightening in her chest.
A pressure behind the eyes.
The summons came through her scouter in clipped, official tones.
ROYAL COMMAND
ATTEND IMMEDIATELY
SUBJECT: COMBAT ASSET — DURA
Her jaw clenched.
"…Damn it, they must've figured something out."
She removed her armor slowly, methodically, as if delaying the inevitable might soften it. By the time she stepped into the obsidian corridors of the royal complex, her expression was neutral and disciplined.
But her hands were shaking.
The Interrogation Chamber
The room was circular and bare, carved directly into the planet's crust. No windows.
No clan insignias.
Just five figures.
Royal Elite Guards...
Each one radiated controlled violence, their power levels deliberately muted but still monstrous.
Elite Commander Power Level: ~18,000
Other Elites: 14,000–16,000
Fahla stood alone in the center.
The commander stepped forward, arms folded.
"You trained the child known as Dura."
"Yes."
"You were his primary handler and his mother."
"Yes."
"Yet you failed to report his abnormal growth patterns."
Silence stretched.
Fahla lifted her chin.
"I saw nothing outside the acceptable Saiyan rate ."
The lie tasted like ash.
The commander's lip curled.
"His power increased faster than recorded elites. He currently survived a high-threat world alone based on the scouter feedback and his readings fluctuated without great ape transformation."
He leaned closer.
"And you dare say you saw nothing?"
Fahla didn't flinch.
"No, I saw nothing ."
The first blow came without warning.
THUD!!
The commander's fist slammed into her abdomen, driving the air from her lungs and lifting her off the ground. She crashed into the stone wall behind her, cracks spiderwebbing outward.
She forced herself upright immediately,
Another strike, this time across the face.
Blood sprayed.
"This is Insubordination," the commander said coldly. "This is Negligence and worst of..... It's possible treason."
Fahla laughed through broken teeth.
"If I wanted to betray Vegeta," she spat, "you'd already be drowning in your own blood."
That earned her a knee to the ribs from a female elite by her side.. .
She collapsed, gasping.
The commander crouched, gripping her hair and forcing her head back.
"You've forgotten your place, Elite Fahla."
His scouter beeped softly as he straightened.
"Your punishment is reassignment."
A hologram flickered to life.
Mission: Border Suppression
Zone: Unstable Stellar Rift
Survival Probability: 12%
Fahla glared at it
A death sentence.
"Report immediately," the commander said. "If you survive, we'll have this talk again."
She was thrown from the chamber like discarded scrap.
She got up, no tears and just staggered through the corridor, leaning heavily against the wall, blood trailing behind her.
Her thoughts weren't of herself.
They were of Dura.
They've noticed you, she thought grimly.
And they're afraid.
She smiled faintly despite the pain.
"That means you're doing something right, my son."
POV Shift, The King's Chamber
High above the planet, inside a hall of black stone and molten light, King Vegeta sat upon his throne.
He was smaller than legends claimed.
But the pressure he exerted bent the room.
The royal elites knelt before him, heads bowed.
"The child known as Dura," the commander reported, "exhibits accelerated growth beyond established metrics."
A holographic graph appeared, power levels rising far too steeply for comfort.
"His mother concealed this from the scientists responsible for monitoring abnormal growth my lord ."
King Vegeta's fingers tightened on the armrest.
"How old is the child now ?"
"Four sir ."
The king's tail lashed once.
"Unacceptable."
He rose slowly, pacing.
"We already have one anomaly," he muttered. "The infant with the absurd readings."
A pause.
"And now another?"
The elites remained silent.
Paranoia crept into the king's eyes.
"Power that grows too fast does not serve the throne," he said. "It challenges it."
The king turned sharply.
"Begin containment protocols."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Limit resources for the child. Restrict his mission data and If he returns, evaluate suppression options."
One elite hesitated.
"And if suppression fails?"
The king smiled thinly.
"Then he becomes an example."
The implication was clear.
Royal Saiyans did not tolerate rivals.
Not even in children.
.....
____
....
Fahla's Mission
The rift was wrong.
Space twisted like wounded flesh, gravity tearing itself apart in violent pulses. Stars stretched into bleeding lines, and fragments of dead worlds drifted endlessly, colliding and shattering in slow, awful silence.
Fahla's pod barely survived entry.
The moment she landed, the fighting began.
The enemies were not a alien single species but survivors, pirates, mercenaries, failed conquerors abandoned by empires just like hers.
Their average power fluctuated wildly from 6,000 to 14,000 and they attacked in random waves, sensing a lone elite Saiyan as both threat and prize.
Fahla welcomed them.
For weeks, she fought without much rest.
She broke spines with her knees, crushed skulls with her palms, tore through armor with her teeth when her hands failed. She survived on scavenged rations and blood-soaked rainwater.
Each battle pushed her closer to death.
Each victory reminded her why she endured.
Dura is alive.
Dura is growing.
They are afraid of him.
That knowledge kept her standing.
Month Two
Her left arm no longer healed correctly.
Her ki output dropped from 7,000 to 5,800.
She compensated with experience.
She ambushed.
She baited.
She let enemies think she was weak and dying..
Then she killed them anyway.
Month Four
A plasma blade pierced her side during an ambush gone wrong, burning through muscle and cauterizing her guts.
She killed the attacker but collapsed moments later.
She dragged herself on the ground and crawled into the wreckage of her pod.
Blood quickly pooled beneath her.
Her scouter flickered weakly.
"…Damn it," she whispered.
She laughed softly, then coughed crimson, thinking of her son.
"I really did raise a monster, didn't I?"
With shaking hands, Fahla activated a hidden transmission channel, old, unregistered, never logged by royal command.
She recorded.
"Dura… if you're seeing this, then I didn't make it back."
Her voice was rough but steady.
"King Vegeta is afraid of you. The royal elites are watching your growth. They punish what they can't control and they kill what they can't suppress."
She paused, breath hitching.
"They sent me here to die because I wouldn't betray you."
A faint smile crossed her lips.
"Don't let them cage you. Don't let them turn you into a weapon pointed at yourself."
Her eyes softened.
"You were never meant to kneel."
The transmission auto-locked and launched into space toward the coordinates of Dura's pod.
Fahla leaned back.
Her breathing slowed.
And for the first time since his birth…
She wasn't afraid anymore.
__
Dura
The signal reached him days later.
Dura was meditating when the pod chimed.
He opened the recording.
He listened.
He didn't move.
When it ended, silence swallowed the ruins around him as tears ran down his face..
His power stirred.
15,000 → 16,200 (Suppressed)
His hands trembled violently as tried to hold his power back
"…They killed you," he whispered.
The air cracked.
Green lightning danced briefly across his skin before vanishing.
"No," he said, forcing breath into his lungs.
He buried the rage.
Focused it into a cold, dense core.
His long tail fur bristled as it swayed around violently
"They're coming," he murmured to himself .
.....
___
Saiyan Command, Containment Order
Royal Command did not delay.
Four months was long enough.
A containment squad assembled, five elites, handpicked.
Average Power Level: 17,000
Objective: Arrest or neutralize Asset Dura
Secondary Objective: Assess mutation threat to the status quo
.
One of them scanned the planet remotely.
His scouter beeped.
"…Power reading confirmed. Fifteen thousand."
Another cursed.
"That's too high for his age."
The commander sneered.
"Then we stop holding back."
...
They landed without ceremony.
Dura stood waiting.
When they met....
One elite laughed.
"So this is that bitch Fahla's little bastard?"
Another spat.
"She spread her legs for a freak low class loser and paid for it."
The words hit harder than any blow.
Something snapped in Daru .
Dura vanished.
WOOSH!
The first elite didn't even get to scream as his head separated from his body in a green-lit blur.
SQUELCH!!
Power Spike:
15,000 → 18,500
The others attacked all at once.
Blasts tore the ground apart. Mountains collapsed. The sky fractured with shockwaves...
Dura roared.
He launched a few ki balls into outer space and went they reached surrounding planets they detonated... Erasing those planets..
His aura erupted even more violenty , as emerald green lightning appears around him.
18,500 → 22,000
His body grew muscle swelling, veins glowing faintly green. His strikes shattered Saiyan armor like glass.
"You called her filth?" he bellowed, crushing one elite's chest inward.
Another elite blasted him point-blank.
Dura barely felt it as it washed over him like water..
He grabbed the attacker by the face, fingers digging into his face and slammed him into the planet's crust again and again until his heart went silent.
The last elite backed away, shaking.
"…You're Monster."
Dura's eyes burned.
"No," he said, voice layered with something ancient.
"I'm her son."
POV Shift
Far away.
Another chamber.
Another child.
A scouter screamed as an infant's power spiked uncontrollably.
Royal command panicked.
"Exile him," the king ordered simply . "Now."
A pod launched into the void, toward a dead world.
A father followed, powerless to stop it.
....
Back to Dura
The final elite charged, screaming.
Dura met him head-on.
The impact shattered the horizon.
When the dust cleared, only one Saiyan stood.
Dura's aura faded slowly.
His power settled still terrifying.
Stabilized Level: 19,000
He looked toward the stars.
"They made their choice," he said quietly.
And somewhere deep in his blood, the Legendary engine growled, awake, learning and waiting.
....
One Year Later
The planet no longer resembled anything that could be conquered.
Its atmosphere had thinned. Its magnetic field stuttered. Entire continents were fused into glass plains etched with scars of repeated impact zones. Lightning storms crawled sideways across the sky, drawn to the abnormal density of ki saturating the environment.
At the center of it all stood Dura.
Current Status
Age: 5 years old
Base Power Level: 21,800
Controlled Output: 26,000+
Unrestrained Surge (Unstable): Unknown
Legendary Bloodline State: Adaptive, Active Learning Phase
He exhaled slowly, fists clenched at his sides.
Green light crawled along his veins not exploding anymore, not screaming.
Listening.
Forging a New Kind of Ki
Dura raised one hand.
The sky changed from green to purple to green then back to normal as Ki folded inward, spiraling tighter and tighter until the air itself screamed under the pressure.
The glow in his palm wasn't a sphere, it was razor-dense, vibrating violently, unstable but obedient.
He thrust his hand forward.
The blast didn't explode.
It punctured reality, carving a clean tunnel through kilometers of bedrock before detonating deep underground, collapsing an entire tectonic plate.
Dura lowered his hand, breathing evenly.
"…Legendary ki doesn't like waste," he murmured.
New Techniques
Designations
Green Lancer:
Ultra-compressed ki coating hi arms legs and body, designed to penetrate high-density defenses
(Low energy loss, extreme lethality)
Emerald Pulse:
Controlled hyper speed shockwaves emitted directly from the body, bypassing distance
(Effective against multiple high-level targets)
Null Sheath:
Ki wrapped inward against the skin to mask presence and suppress leakage
(Critical for survival)
This wasn't how Saiyans were supposed to fight.
But Dura wasn't training to impress Vegeta.
He was training to outlive it.
....
He sat atop a fractured mountain range, tail wrapped around his waist, eyes scanning the storm-lit horizon.
"Too many differences in this verse ," he said quietly.
From the fragments of intercepted data, from Fahla's warning, from the containment squad's sheer confidence, Dura understood something deeply wrong.
This universe was not safe.
Not even for the current him.
King Vegeta's power wasn't rumor anymore.
Confirmed Royal Power Level: 62,000
And worse
There were unknowns.
Entities not yet active. Forces not yet revealed. Timelines already diverging under pressure.
Dura clenched his fist.
"I don't need to win right now ," he said.
"I need to survive."
Something deep inside him responded.
Not rage.
Not instinct..
Awareness.
Interdimensional Stirring
The world… shifted.
Not physically.
Conceptually.
Dura felt space thin around him, like paper stretched too far. His ki reacted instinctively not flaring outward, but reaching sideways, slipping between layers of reality he suddenly knew were there.
His heart pounded.
"…So this is what you meant," he whispered, to the God he barely remembered.
He focused.
Chose.
And stepped forward.
There was no explosion.
No funny tunnel effect
No lights.
Just one moment, a dead Saiyan world.
The next..
Mud.
Smoke.
The distant thump of artillery.
Marvel amalgam world... Earth, 1943
Dura stood in the shadow of a bombed-out German farm, its wooden beams shattered, fields torn into trenches by shellfire.
The sky was gray with war, aircraft roaring overhead.
He felt it immediately.
This universe was… loud.
Not with ki but with random forms of power.
Mutations. Experiments. Cosmic interference. Dormant gods. Nascent legends.
"…Interesting," he murmured.
He drew his ki inward instantly.
Active Suppression: < 500
His presence shrank to something almost human.
"Let's not make enemies yet."
He stepped into the ruins, disappearing from the battlefield like a ghost in the dark .
POV switch
A red wasteland.
Endless storms.
But this child did not scream.
The boy on this deadly planet stood tall for his age, muscles already dense, power far exceeding expectations. His eyes were sharp and not feral.
Beside him stood his father.
Teaching and guiding him to become a terrifying warrior..
"Feel the ground," the man said. "It will tell you where to stand."
The child listened.
This version of Broly was not alone nor was he ignorant.
The universe would regret both facts.
POV — Royal Chamber, Planet Vegeta
The chamber was silent except for the projection.
Scouter footage replayed again and again green light, shattered elites, containment failure stamped across every frame.
One elite swallowed hard.
"He killed them… without fully transforming."
Another whispered, "His ki density exceeds elite norms."
King Vegeta stood rigid, fists trembling not with fear but with rage.
"This is what happens when power grows without our permission," he snarled.
An elder spoke carefully.
"We may need to escalate my King. Suppression will no longer suffice."
The king's eyes narrowed.
"No," he said slowly. "We wait, for now ."
The room stilled.
"A monster that runs will reveal itself eventually."
Far below the palace.
A lone figure adjusted his scouter frequency, tuned to channels long forbidden.
He smiled thinly.
"So," he murmured, "the child survived."
A transmission pulsed outward into deep space.
Recipient: Lord Frieza
Subject: Saiyan Anomaly Confirmed
Threat Level: Escalating
The scouter beeped.
And somewhere in the cold dark…
Interest awakened.