POV. DURA
Dura hovered above the scarred land where Famine had been thrown from existence, chest rising and falling slowly. His ki stabilized then compressed, folding in on itself like a star collapsing.
Taking out the scouter he'd stolen months ago long since cracked and unreliable finally screamed itself to death.
POWER LEVEL: 115,000+ and rising
The number didn't settle.
It climbed in violent, uneven jumps.
Famine's attack had not just wounded him, it had rewritten him.
Dura felt it inside his body. His cells no longer reacted to conceptual pressure the same way. Where hunger, decay, and entropy had once found purchase, now they met resistance. Not true immunity but adaptation at molecular level.. His unique legendary super saiyan bloodline was at work..
The Legendary bloodline didn't resist reality-warping forces.
It learned their language and adjusted accordingly.
"So that's how it works hm…" Dura muttered.
His stomach growled.
Loud and Painfully...
He hadn't eaten since before the Hydra hunts..
The need hit him all at once..
"this reminds me of my childhood on planet vegeta" Dura mutters...
Without ceremony, he shot skyward, aura muted to a dull shimmer, and turned east.
Toward the edge of Germany.
Toward the Black Forest.
POV. THE BLACK FOREST
The forest knew he was coming.
Animals fled hours before he arrived. Birds abandoned nests. Wolves vanished into deeper shadow.
The trees themselves creaked louder, branches bending as if bracing.
Dura landed among them without sound.
He moved like a ghost through the dark, relying on hunting techniques from his previous life, learnt during tribal initiation, hands snapping out with terrifying efficiency, clapping around the deer's neck..SNAP! , THUD! the deer died before it understood fear.
moments later. He cooked nothing. Fire was unnecessary for him now.
Blood on his hands. Steam in the cold air. Tail swaying slightly.
As he ate, his body continued its silent recalibration. Ki pathways thickened. Neural response sharpened. Hunger no longer weakened him, it triggered internal rationing, preservation protocols buried deep in his blood.
A predator that could starve and still grow stronger.
POV. APOCALYPSE
Famine collapsed to one knee before him.
Armor cracked. Aura diminished. The Horseman did not beg.
"Report," Apocalypse said calmly.
Famine lifted his head.
"He adapts to conceptual attacks. Hunger, decay, attrition, they lose effectiveness rapidly. Prolonged exposure increases his resistance and instinctive understanding."
Apocalypse smiled.
"And the cost?"
...
"He still feels it. Initially. Pain exists. Vulnerability exists. But only briefly, he's adaptation is strange my lord."
Apocalypse turned away, hands clasped behind his back.
"Then the solution is not starvation…"
A pause.
"…but overload, we will flood him by constantly changing the abilities used against him before he adapts to one ."
Famine understood.
And for the first time since his creation,
He was afraid.
POV. ALLIED COMMAND, EUROPE
They didn't feel like heroes anymore
They felt like witnesses.
Captain America stood in the shadows of a ruined command post, helmet under his arm, staring at grainy footage projected onto a concrete wall.
Unknown entities
A blur of impossible speed. Landscapes dying. Dura, the unknown thing with terrifying strength was actually screaming in pain.
This was interesting news.
Someone whispered, hopeful and terrified all at once:
"He bled, did you see that!!? ."
Another voice, shakier:
"That means he can be hurt, we just need to plan something solid and effective."
Steve didn't answer.
Because what he saw didn't look like weakness.
It looked like a monster learning from pain and suffering.
"If he can be injured," a strategist said quietly, "then with enough preparation... "
The footage cut as Dura vanished into the sky.
Silence followed.
Steve finally spoke.
"We're not the hunters in this war, we're just going along for the ride."
No one argued with that statement.
For the rest of the war, Dura became a whispered name. A shadow some soldiers swore saved them, others swore he savagely slaughtered entire battalions of men like cattle.
A horror story that moved through the battlefield, not for either side.
Months passed.
The war ground on, red skull and captain America had their back and forth like usual.
And somewhere in the dark, something far worse was happening.
_____
POV. FRIEZA-CONTROLLED WORLD
The sky burned green.
Broly's ship slammed into the planet's outskirts, tearing through hangars and fuel depots as if they were paper. Frieza Force alarms screamed uselessly.
Raditz felt it first.
His scouter shrieked.
"Nappa, Vegeta, this reading is... !"
The dust parted.
A towering Saiyan stepped forward.
Calm.
Eyes steady.
__
Power Levels:
Raditz: 5,700
Nappa: 15,382
Prince Vegeta: 42,000
Broly: 1,200,000
Nappa's knees trembled.
Raditz forgot how to breathe.
Vegeta did neither.
He stepped forward, tail flicking once, eyes narrowed, not in arrogance, but calculation.
"Who are you?" Vegeta demanded.
"I know every elite Saiyan. You're not one of them."
Broly inclined his head slightly.
"My name is Broly. I'm here for Frieza not you."
Raditz laughed nervously.
"You think you can just... "
The ground exploded behind them.
A Frieza Force tower folded in half as Broly casually punched it once.
Then another.
Then the planet's primary refinery vanished in a green flash.
Vegeta's scouter shattered.
Silence.
Vegeta stared not in denial.
But recognition
.
"…So it's true then ."
Nappa whispered:
"He's going to kill him…"
Vegeta's lips curled not into a smirk.
Into something sharper.
"Good, this is what we all wanted."
__
POV. DURA
Night again.
Another city in ruins.
Another enemy erased.
Dura stood atop a collapsed church, rain washing blood from his hands. His ki pulsed steadily controlled.
Far away, across universes, storms were gathering.
He looked up at the sky, eyes glowing faintly.
"Let them come."
The horror wasn't chasing him anymore.
It was following his wake.