1 Prologue

"Yo, can I ride with you?" Owen's voice caught Logan by surprise as he turned away from the basketball court. Approaching from behind, Owen's question lingered in the air, waiting to be answered.

"I walked here this afternoon, but man, now I'm really tired… Don't think I can bring myself to get back to my place before I fall asleep on a random bench somewhere." He spoke with a small smile, hoping that Logan would say yes.

"Yeah, man. Sure. Just hop right in." Logan replied, slipping his hand into his pocket and pulling out his car keys. With a precise touch of a button on the key fob, his 2010 Chevrolet Camaro was unlocked.

Wearing a broad grin that stretched from ear to ear, Owen briskly jogged up to the passenger side of the vehicle and effortlessly hopped right in. He then cast a quick glance over at his friend, opening his mouth to speak. "Dude, I can't get over how sweet this ride is. I've always wanted a Camaro ever since I watched those transformer movies."

A wry smile played across Logan's lips as he ignited the car's engine, resulting in a powerful roar that filled the air. "Hell yeah! I mean, come on, why do you think I went for this car in the first place? Bumblebee has always been my favorite."

"Optimus for me," Owen responded promptly, his eagerness to get home and get some rest evident as he skipped the step of fastening his seatbelt.

"Shouldn't be too long till we arrive at your place, just hang tight." As the car pulled away from the court, Logan navigated the streets smoothly, his foot pressing gently on the gas pedal. Owen glanced at his phone, absorbed in its glow as they headed down the road.

After a few minutes had gone by, the vehicle continued along the road, drawing closer to a red light up ahead.

"Don't get why traffic is this busy this late…" Logan commented, his sigh indicating slight frustration. He leaned his head against his fist, his other hand firmly gripping the steering wheel.

Owen nonchalantly lifted his shoulders in a casual shrug, his attention focused intently on his phone screen. "Traffic sucks, like always." He muttered, his two thumbs tapping on the phone screen.

With the light finally transitioning to green, Logan experienced a sense of relief that it hadn't taken too long. Eagerly, he pressed down on the gas pedal, causing the car to accelerate swiftly. However, his moment of satisfaction was short-lived as an unexpected, thunderous honk pierced the air from the left. Their attention snapped to the source of the sound, and their hearts raced as a colossal 12.5-ton semi-truck materialized seemingly out of thin air, hurtling directly in their direction.

"What-"

The two were scarcely able to comprehend what was happening when an abrupt and searing surge of pain engulfed their bodies, an agonizing torrent that seemed to penetrate every nerve and fiber. It was as if a relentless blaze had ignited within them, consuming their senses in a maelstrom of anguish. The pain only lasted a brief fraction of a second before it was over, their vision being overtaken by darkness.

…

"What…. What the hell?!" Owen shouted out, or at least he attempted to. His eyes sprang open, wide with surprise, while a mask obscured his mouth.

A peculiar yellow liquid enveloped him, an unfamiliar sensation that left him in awe. He gradually lifted his arm within the strange enclosure, his shock intensifying as he realized that his limb had regressed to a miniature size, resembling that of a 5 year old!

What the hell? He was convinced he had been struck by a truck... Wasn't he dead? Could it be that everyone was sent to the afterlife in the form of 5 year olds? It was a weird idea, but Owen didn't really know what was happening. He could only make a few uncertain guesses.

Squinting, Owen gazed out of the incubator pod, taking in the sights. Rows of identical pods surrounded him, each housing babies with distinct black spiked hair.

'WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?!?!'

As if a switch had been flipped, a profound understanding washed over him, illuminating his thoughts like a newly lit lantern. The fragmented pieces of the puzzle gradually converged, revealing a conclusion that seemed nothing short of absurd. The very same pods that cradled the babies, a sight reminiscent of the scenes from the Broly movie that he remembered rewatching a couple weeks before his death, now aligned with an unmistakable truth– they were Saiyans, and so was he! The spiky black hair that adorned the infant's heads further solidified his realization.

But there was more. Another piece of his transformed reality sent shivers down his spine- an alien sensation that extended from his backside, an appendage that could only be one thing: a tail.

Owen was in the famous universe of Dragon Ball… It was the only conclusion he could come to that made sense, as silly as it sounded. But, wasn't Dragon Ball only fiction? This seemed… Well, impossible… He had read reincarnation fan fics from time to time, but he never imagined it would be his own reality!

…

As days stretched on, Owen remained enveloped in the peculiar goop that surrounded him. Gradually, he had come to terms with the concept of being reborn into the world of Dragon Ball, and he was now grappling with the task of determining his next course of action.

Any attempt at escaping or leaving the pod was met with immediate failure, so that option was discarded. In an attempt to pass the time, he tried to learn how to meditate. He remembered how Goku used to meditate to improve his level of concentration and to temper his spirit, so he gave it a try. It was pretty peaceful, and while mediating it seemed like time just flew by.

A few weeks into new life, Owen found himself in a face-to-face encounter with a Saiyan who was dressed predominantly in white attire, adorned with what appeared to be a partial upper section of Saiyan armor.

The Saiyan positioned a compact device against the surface of the incubator, triggering a series of beeping sounds. Owen's recognition was immediate- he knew what it was. A scouter! Were they trying to measure his power level? A wave of curiosity washed over him. He couldn't deny his own eagerness to discover just how powerful he might be. With a bit of luck, perhaps he would be born as an elite class.

"Hmph, average," The Saiyan said, promptly walking away.

'WHAT! Are you serious! He didn't even say what my power level was! Just average? What does that even mean?!' Owen tore himself away from his inner frustration, trying to think. What power levels were babies born with in the show? He was pretty sure Goku was born with a power level of 2. Broly was born with a power level of 920 which fluctuated greatly, and Vegeta… He wasn't sure. There wasn't much information about it.

Average could mean any number of things… He was probably a low-class warrior. If he wanted to survive as a Saiyan he'd have to somehow escape the destruction of his planet and perhaps surpass Frieza one day, although that seemed far out of reach.

Currently, he simply had to wait until he could be released. He needed to determine the current year and whether Prince Vegeta had already been born. He hoped for a span of at least a couple of years before Vegeta's birth, allowing him more time to prepare- to ready himself for Frieza's inevitable assault.

"Well… Time to mediate." Owen's words were muffled by the mask fastened to his mouth. His eyes closed as he began to meditate, hoping that his several year long stay within the incubator wouldn't last much longer…

…

Beyond Planet Vegeta, in the distant reaches, rests another celestial entity- Planet Viltrum. Suspended within the vast expanse of space, it stands in solitude within its private solar system. The planet's calming shades of blue form a compelling contrast to the innate ferocity of its inhabitants.

As the planet's day transitions to night, a magnificent display of twinkling stars and distant galaxies adorns its midnight canvas. Amidst this cosmic spectacle, a young Viltrumite finds themselves positioned upon the planet's terrain. Their gaze is directed toward a colossal robot, a formidable presence utilized for training purposes.

The young Viltrumite appears to falter, his eyes widening in a mixture of surprise and apprehension. He gazes up at the imposing robot before him, instinctively taking a step back as uncertainty fills his stance.

"What's happening?!" The humanoid alien exclaims, his voice laced with a blend of confusion and alarm. He shifts his gaze downward, discovering that he is sporting a strange white outfit that cloaks his form.

"Wait a minute, wasn't I just driving my car...?" He questioned, his eyes glued to his fists. And then, out of nowhere, it hits him like a ton of bricks. The memory rushes back- oh, that truck! It was charging right at them! Did he get murdered? If he had been killed, then this is turning out to be one seriously strange afterlife. It's not at all what he'd expected, everything feels so natural and real, which doesn't really match the usual notion of what comes next. Plus… There was a giant robot standing in front of him.

"Wait… A giant robot?" He silently questioned himself, his eyes widening once more in disbelief. The massive machine, looming overhead, suddenly brought down its powerful foot with a resounding crash, propelling him skyward with an explosive kick.

"Where am I, and how did I survive that kick?!" Logan's voice rang out in a shout as he was hurled into a wild, uncontrollable spiral skyward, only to commence a rapid descent back towards the earth.

"AHHHHHH!" His scream echoed through the air as he braced himself for an impending crash landing amidst the landscape. However, a sudden halt defied his expectations, leaving him suspended in midair, seemingly defying gravity through sheer instinct.

"W-Woah… Am I… Floating?" Logan's voice trembled with a mix of uncertainty and astonishment. But that unease quickly gave way to an overwhelming surge of exhilaration. "I'm flying! I'm actually fucking flying!" His excitement radiated through a wide grin, his focus shifting toward the towering robot that failed any attempt at touching him as he levitated just out of its reach.

"Seems like you can't lay a finger on me… Let's see if I have any other powers." Logan clenched his fist, propelling himself forward with astonishing velocity. His hand connected with the robot's head, creating a substantial dent upon impact.

"Haha! Take that! Looks like you aren't the only one with super strength!" He taunted, poised to cross his arms. However, the robot launched an attack just as he was going to cross his arms, trying to catch the alien off guard. With remarkable swiftness, the Viltrumite expertly maneuvered around the robot's extended arm, narrowly avoiding its punch. Swiftly darting behind the immense machine, he executed a perfectly timed kick to its back, causing the massive contraption to stumble forward.

"This has been fun, and admittedly pretty confusing, but it's time to end this!" Logan declared, drawing his arm back. Suddenly, he surged forward with every ounce of strength and speed he could summon, hurtling through the air with astonishing momentum, and plowing straight through the robot's head.

The once-mighty robot began its descent, its colossal form losing its imposing stance as it slowly succumbed to gravity's pull. Bits and pieces of its shattered head scattered in a chaotic dance, remnants of its once—intimidating visage now reduced to a shattered tapestry. Armed only with raw instinct, Logan managed to triumph over the colossal machine. However, a nagging feeling tugged at his thoughts- a hunch that if he were to face adversaries similar to that problematic robot in the future, he'd need to develop a more comprehensive understanding of his newly awakened powers.

"Now… Where am I…?"