2 Chapter 2* – Where am I? Who am I?

The young man's consciousness slowly emerged from the depth of his slumber. The gentle caress of sunlight bathed his face, casting a warm glow over his closed eyes. His eyelids fluttered as he began to stir, and for a fleeting, blissful moment, he reveled in the foreign sensation of being incredibly well-rested. However, as the comfort of that moment dissipated, the peculiarities of his situation registered in his still groggy mind.

'I'm late!' he mentally screamed, the realization striking him like lightning and sending a jolt of adrenaline through his body. In the next instant, he sat up so abruptly that he felt disoriented.

His heart raced as he reached out instinctively for his phone and clothes next to his desk, only to grasp at empty air. Belatedly but helpfully, his brain rebooted, allowing him to fully register the details of the alien and unfamiliar room. He feels a wave of panic and adrenaline surging through him. Another burst of odd disorientation gripped him as he tried to make sense of his surroundings, prompting him to look down at his decidedly no-longer adult body. Oh dear. Wherever this is, it was definitely not his shitty apartment, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out that he is not who he is supposed to be either. He swallowed down a scream that bubbled up his throat.

The young man took several deep breaths to collect his wits and cast his eyes around the room. It was a rather plain space with little in the way of decoration. A simple bed occupied one corner, while a desk, a chair, and a cabinet adorned the other. The window was left slightly ajar, allowing both the gentle sunlight and a cool, pleasant breeze to filter in, rustling his hair. He didn't even need to look outside to deduce that he was situated at a considerable height above the ground.

Interestingly, the room featured an unconventional semi-circular shape, an odd detail that stood out amidst his growing unease. It was an extremely unorthodox design choice he had never encountered in any residential building before.

His gaze locked onto the closed door positioned at the far end of the room. With utmost caution, he slid off the bed, every movement calculated to avoid the slightest noise. He silently made his way to the desk, where he grabbed a pen resting upon it. Clutching the pen in a reverse grip, he held the pointy end facing outward, prepared to defend against, or stab, any potential threats.

Turning slowly, he approached the nondescript door on high alert. His fingers wrapped around the doorknob, and he tested it cautiously. To his relief, it turned easily, the door being unlocked and not yielding any resistance. He gently cracked the door open just enough to allow his eye to peak at the view outside, silently thanking the heavens that the door didn't do him dirty by squeaking.

The view beyond was rather uneventful, revealing a dusty and dimly lit apartment. He held his breath momentarily, exhaling silently before widening the door further. Still no sounds or signs of movement. He began to tiptoe through the mysterious apartment, his eyes taking in the dusty furniture and the delicate spiderwebs that adorned them.

Fear gnawed at him as he crept through the nondescript apartment cautiously and stealthily as if he was some undercover operative in a Call of Duty campaign set to Realistic Mode. Each step was heavy with trepidation, every corner was cleared with bated breath, and every creak of the floorboards seemed to reverberate loudly in the silence. His breaths came fast and shallow, and his pulse raced in his chest. He couldn't help but play up the tension in his mind, imagining all sorts of horrible outcomes and bloody endings.

However, once again, reality was much more mundane than his imagination. In just a matter of minutes, he had explored every nook and cranny within the apartment, discovering no threats or traces of life, save spiders. Just him, alone in a barely lived apartment, feeling stupid. 

Now standing in the primary living space, his gaze fell upon the curtains that adorned a large, floor-to-ceiling window. The urge to peek outside and make sense of this surreal situation pushed him onwards as he drew back the curtains.

What he saw beyond the window was beyond anything he could have expected. The bustling streets were teeming with people, some of whom bore distinct animal-human hybrid features. Hovering cars glided along the roads, and the architecture of the cityscape was dominated by colossal, orb-like structures held up by depressingly thin pillars. It's an awe-inspiring sight and unmistakably reminiscent of the world he knew from Dragon Ball.

Overwhelmed, the young man staggered backward, the shock of it all crashing upon him. His legs gave way beneath him, and he collapsed onto the floor. Pain shot through his tailbone, jolting him into a state of awareness. He is suddenly aware of the intensity of every sensation—sight, sound, touch, and smell— everything struck him with vivid clarity. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he couldn't contain the flood of emotions coursing through him.

"This... this can't be a dream, right? Sensations are dulled in dreams, right?" he stammered, his voice quivering. A strained laugh managed to escape his lips as he stared at the surreal cityscape in sheer disbelief.

His mouth began to quirk upwards as he muttered fervently, his voice trembling, "If this is a dream, please don't let me wake up!" Laughter erupted from his throat, a chaotic and unrecognizable mixture of joy, relief, wonder, and hysteria. He pumped his fists into the air, "YESSS!!!"

But his laughter was short-lived, as a sharp and unfamiliar pain pierced his chest. He clutched at it tightly, gritting his teeth while riding out the agonizing waves. The gravity of the situation suddenly weighed down on him as he realized he had no earthly idea of how he had arrived in the Dragon Ball Universe that had previously existed solely behind pictures and words.

Rubbing his chest as the pain subsided, he reasoned, "Well, there's only one way to unravel this mystery. I need information. I need to figure out both who I am and where I am." he glanced around the room. "And this apartment seems as good a place to start as any." 

***

The young man slumps onto the sofa in the now brightly lit living space, his eyes fixated on the collection of items laid out on the coffee table before him. An ID card reveals his body's name to be Ajax, while a small shrine adorned with photos and mementos of Ajax's family rests beside that. A stack of old medical bills for young Ajax's mother paints a grim picture of past struggles. A worn diary, detailing Ajax's daily thoughts and experiences, completes the set.

He stares at the diary telling the story of a broken young boy's life, the narrative of a life that he can only partially reconstruct from the pieces. As it turns out, when young Ajax was little more than a toddler, his father met his untimely end from a freak accident instigated by the remains of the once notorious Red Ribbon Army. As if that wasn't enough, Ajax's mother waged an unyielding battle against a chronic illness that relentlessly eroded her lungs from her earliest days. It was a cruel and merciless disease, with no known remedy. The pittance of an insurance payout following Ajax's father's untimely death fell woefully short of covering her long-term treatment costs, so Ajax's mother made the ultimate sacrifice by forgoing her own care to secure Ajax's future. Tragically but unsurprisingly, her life was claimed by the relentless ailment soon after. And just like that, fate had cruelly torn away both Ajax's parents, leaving the young boy alone to face the unforgiving world.

Within the sea of despair, young Ajax clung to a shimmer of hope—a mysterious martial artist had risen to vanquish the Red Ribbon Army. The accomplishments of this hero sparked a new dream in Ajax: the dream to become a martial artist himself, the one thing he yearned for above all else. However, it seems that Ajax too had to face reality as he had been afflicted by the same unforgiving chronic illness that had plagued his mother. He was condemned to never reach a ripe age, let alone rise to the peak of the martial arts world as he dreamed.

At that, a wave of pain surged through the young man's chest once more and he realized this was what young Ajax had been dealing with his entire life. "So that's why my chest was hurting so badly," he thought absently.

The diary's final pages grew increasingly somber, mirroring Ajax's descent into hopelessness. The last words in the diary were of regret, of squandering what others would have treasured. He wished if he had the power, to gift his life to someone who would cherish it more than he ever could. The weight of the wish in those words, a reflection of a young boy's sorrow, hung heavy in the air.

"I don't know if it was you who somehow wished for me to be in your position," the young man said softly. He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, his resolve firming. "But thank you. I will live this life for you. From now on, my name will be Ajax!"

The young man, now Ajax, finds himself suddenly pumped full of motivation. He sat up and, in an effort to be cool, tried, unsuccessfully, to crack his neck.

"It's time to Sherlock this shit."

He examined the diary again, noting that the last entry was dated October 10th, Age 759, which he assumed to be a good enough estimate of the current date. According to the ID, he knew that the young Ajax was born in Age 750. This meant his current body was a whopping 9 years old. Fantastic.

Unfortunately, Ajax has no clue as to what age the canon events of Dragon Ball Z occurred. Though he had always been a die-hard Dragon Ball fan, his knowledge of specific dates and locations was fuzzy at best. Fortunately, he has enough clues before him to make an educated guess.

Ajax glanced at the remaining item on the table, a poster of the 23rd Tenkaichi Budōkai, featuring a picture of the Champion, Son Goku.

'The 23rd Tenkaichi Budōkai poster stated that the tournament was hosted in Age 756.' Ajax mused, his index finger tapping his lips. This tournament was particularly memorable to him as it marked the end of the original Dragon Ball series, with Goku claiming victory over Piccolo Jr.

Ajax tilted his head in thought. He is certain that Raditz arrived when Gohan was four years old. He also knew for a fact that Gohan wasn't conceived during the 23rd Tenkaichi Budōkai, as Goku and Chi-Chi's marriage happened sometime afterward. Even if Goku and Chi-Chi were incredibly impatient and got right down to doing the dirty after the tournament, Gohan would still be born in Age 757, making Raditz's arrival somewhere in Age 761. Ajax rubbed his chin.

"If I assume that it is currently Age 759 from the diary, then this means I have two years to prepare for Raditz and three years for the Saiyan invasion..."

Ajax leaned back into the sofa and continued to muse. If he were to optimally assume that the Dragon Balls were active right now, he'd have a maximum of two uses before Raditz's arrival. However, one of which must be used to cure himself of his terminal illness. And that's not even taking into account the issue of finding those damn balls in the first place. Oh, don't forget the time it would take to learn martial arts and master using ki! Ajax dragged his hand down his face. Somehow, he doesn't think his Ph.D. in biological sciences would assist in either endeavor.

Ajax let out a heavy sigh, and his head flopped back against the couch. "Okay, not the best start," he muttered to himself, his voice tinged with frustration. "I'm nine, coping with a terminal illness, essentially penniless, has only two years to prepare, and to top it all off, no overpowered system to assist me." His expression soured as he spoke.

But then, like a ray of sunshine breaking through the clouds, a giddy smile appeared on his face. "But I shouldn't complain," he said, his tone shifting to one of optimism. "My wish came true after all!"

Ajax pushed himself off the couch and headed to the bedroom, his determination palpable on his face. He needed paper and a pen; it was time to formulate his master plan. With a soft plop, he settled back onto the sofa. Sitting there, Ajax took a moment to calm himself, his mind racing. Young Ajax had taken a look at the situation and saw it as an insurmountable challenge, but Ajax, with his foreknowledge, perceived it differently. To him, the present circumstances are nothing more than a complex puzzle waiting to be unraveled layer by layer. And the first step of his intricate solution? The Dragon Balls.

Ajax closed his eyes, blocking out all distractions, and took a deep breath. He knows the board, he knows the pieces, and he knows the threats that lay ahead. Now, it's time to plan his next move. When he opened his eyes once more, they were sharp with concentration, and a confident smirk spread across his lips.

"Let's get this bread!"

***

DBA Corner 1: What the Heck is This and Can I Skip It?

Greetings, Equuleus here! You're probably curious about what this little section here is all about, right? Well, as you're likely aware, the Dragon Ball world is quite a confusing place, filled with many, many conflicting ideas, rules, and explanations. The DBA Corner, to put it simply, is a dedicated space where we shed some light on the mysterious internal workings of Dragon Ball Alternative's universe. For long-time readers, you can think of this as a series of special A/N.

Your next question might be whether you can skip this section. Well, the answer is, sometimes! Some segments may delve into nothing more than a deeper explanation of discoveries made within the story (those you can probably skip). However, keep in mind that other sections may offer valuable insights into characters, explanations for certain narrative developments, details about crucial context (such as which fan interpretation of a phenomenon or event our universe adheres to), answers to YOUR questions, and, in some corners, even information not found elsewhere in the story! Therefore, reading these can help prevent you from scratching your head, wondering why certain events unfolded the way they did, or why a character didn't just simply do action 'x'!

Just in case, let it be stated here that the information stated in these corners is canon specifically to the DBA universe, not to the original DB/Z/S works by Toriyama-Sensei, no matter how much it makes sense here. Okay, that just about sums it up! I'll catch you in the next corner!

P.S. For those who are wondering, yes, this is fashioned after the SBS Corner.