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At the heart of the Saiyan royal capital stood the grand palace.
On the throne that symbolized the highest power of the Saiyan race sat a thin, hairless, purple-skinned catlike being—lounging as if the whole world bored him.
That being was none other than Beerus, the God of Destruction.
To his left stood a man in ornate attire, holding a staff, calm and composed as ever.
He was Whis, the Angel attendant.
At that moment, a tragic scene was unfolding before them.
Beneath the throne, King Vegeta knelt trembling as Beerus pressed a foot down on his head, grinding mercilessly.
Humiliated, the proud Saiyan king didn't dare resist—he even tried to go along with Beerus's movements, forehead scraping against the cold marble floor.
The once-imposing face that commanded an empire was now drenched in cold sweat and fear.
Never in his worst nightmares had King Vegeta imagined that the legendary God of Destruction would descend upon Planet Vegeta itself.
Now all he could do was pray that Beerus wouldn't obliterate him on a whim.
Fortunately, he had restrained himself from any rash action and had welcomed Beerus with the highest Saiyan etiquette.
Otherwise, he knew exactly how this would have ended.
But even that wasn't enough to please the god. One bad bite of food, and Beerus had taken offense—mocking him and demanding that he fetch "the finest pillow in the universe."
King Vegeta hadn't dared to object. He sent his men scurrying to find one immediately.
And that led to this miserable scene.
"King Vegeta," Beerus drawled, his eyes glinting with amusement, "are you trying to mock me? You call this trash the best pillow in the universe?"
He pressed down slightly harder with his foot. King Vegeta's head sank even lower until his face was flat against the floor.
"P–Please spare me, Lord Beerus! I'll send my men at once—to find the very best pillow in the universe!" The king's voice cracked, desperation spilling through every word.
Right now, all he wanted was to survive.
Pride? Dignity? Those were meaningless if he lost his life.
So weak. So pitiful.
If any other Saiyan had witnessed this, they wouldn't have believed their eyes.
And yet—someone did see it.
Standing at the entrance, eyes wide in disbelief, was a small boy—Prince Vegeta.
He'd come to speak with his father about an expedition, but what he saw instead made his blood boil.
"Stop it right now!" the five-year-old shouted, his voice trembling with fury as he charged toward Beerus.
It was brave—foolishly brave.
Beerus glanced at him once, just once, and the boy's vision swam. His body froze, then stumbled forward and collapsed.
A mere few thousand in power level—how could that compare to the might of the God of Destruction of Universe Seven?
"So this is the mighty King of Saiyans?" Beerus scoffed, rising from the throne. "You're a coward. Even that little brat has more courage than you."
With that, he pressed his foot down again.
There was a sickening crack as King Vegeta's head smashed into the floor, the marble shattering beneath him.
He went limp, unconscious.
"'Warrior race,' huh? What a joke," Beerus muttered. "This planet is a dump. I've had enough."
He didn't care about the wreckage left behind.
In his mind, sparing Planet Vegeta itself was already more mercy than these apes deserved.
"As you wish, Lord Beerus," Whis said smoothly, his expression unchanged.
But just before they left, the Angel glanced once—just once—at the unconscious child sprawled on the ground.
It was a long, meaningful look, as if he could already see the future taking shape.
After the two celestial beings departed, the young Vegeta slowly stirred.
He waited until he was sure they were gone before running to his father's side, panic in his eyes.
He didn't know who those two were—only that their power was something no Saiyan could ever hope to defy.
That day, Beerus, the God of Destruction, taught the young prince his first lesson in life:
That even a Saiyan royal was nothing before the gods.
And though Vegeta would bury this memory deep in his mind, for the next twenty years, he would live as Frieza's plaything—his pride crushed again and again.
Outside the royal capital, in a small town…
Harry raced back home at full speed.
If he'd known what had just happened in the palace, his heart would've grown heavy.
Because, as he feared, everything was unfolding exactly like the story he remembered.
Along the way, he greeted a few familiar faces, then headed straight to Bardock and Gine's house.
His own home was right next door—the two families practically lived side by side.
When he entered, he found Gine focused on cutting up a large beast's leg.
She was so absorbed in her work she didn't notice him come in.
"I'm back, Aunt Gine!" he called.
Startled, she flinched slightly before turning around. When she saw who it was, her face softened with a warm smile.
"Oh, little Harry, back so early today?" she teased, reaching out instinctively to pinch his cheek.
As a female Saiyan—and one who'd recently given birth—Gine didn't have to go on missions like the others.
Of course, having Bardock as her mate helped; it let her stay behind, working logistics instead of fighting.
Harry had long since given up resisting her teasing. She'd been doing this since he was small. All he could do was wait until she was done.
"Come on, Aunt Gine, I'm five already! You really shouldn't be pinching my face anymore." He rubbed his cheek with mock annoyance.
"Oh? So our little Harry's grown up now, huh? You're too old for your poor Aunt Gine?" she said, feigning heartbreak in an exaggeratedly sad tone.
To anyone passing by, the scene would've looked like a sweet moment between a mother and her son.
And in many ways, it was.
Though they weren't related by blood, Harry felt more warmth from Gine than he'd ever known in his previous life.
After a bit of playful banter, he finally got to the point.
"Aunt Gine, last time you mentioned Uncle Bardock should be coming back soon. Do you know exactly when?"
"Let me think…" Gine put a finger to her chin. "Last time we talked, he said it'd be around these few days. If everything went smoothly, he should be home tomorrow or the day after."
"So soon?" Harry blinked, caught off guard.
That was much faster than he expected.
He'd thought there would be more time to prepare—but apparently, the story's real beginning was just around the corner.
Seeing his puzzled look, Gine tilted her head. "Is something wrong, Harry? Do you need Bardock's help with something?"
"..."
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