Approaching Earth in one minute. Withholding sleeping gas.


A deafening bang heard in the forest.

An old man rushing to inspect the explosion.

A curious sphere, made of otherworldly materials.

A baby's cry.


"Hmmm, no parents, little buddy? I'll take you in."

"Uwaaaaagh!"

"Heheheh. You certainly know how to put up a fight. Just like me. Except… I have no tail."

"…"

"… I think I'll call you Son Gohan. Just like me. Old Grandpa Gohan. Let's get you some food, shall we?"

"K-Kakarot…"

"Carrot? Well, now, I suppose if you really want it, but I've never heard of a child who loved his vegetables…"

"Vegeta!"

"Heheh. Alrighty then. Let's go."


The baby Gohan turned out to be quite the odd kid, Grandpa Gohan had to say. Although he seemed content with being raised and tenderly cared for, he would, on the odd occasion, go into a fit whereupon he would flail about, resulting in damage to any nearby surroundings. He seemed to have two natures; one, docile and curious of nature, the other, destructive and taking delight in seeing damage. Odd.

Which raised another question.

How was young Gohan so ridiculously strong?

It's not like a normal kid can just break tables, chairs, or even make a dent in the ground. But baby Gohan was prone to do just that during his fits. This had been a problem for Grandpa Gohan the first couple of times he had been caught unawares, but soon he grew used to these outbursts and simply rushed the young Gohan out to rage upon the grass.

Soon these explosive bursts were put to use. Son Gohan, it seemed, had an innate ability for fighting. Often Grandpa Gohan would shadow practice, and the little child would mimic him almost perfectly, upholding his balance like he had already done such moves before. A year later, the two Gohans took this to be daily routine, and the junior learnt much from his senior.

Young Gohan would also pore over what books he could find, rare though they were. He read the books so intently one might not notice his presence unless they saw his tail curling.

Oh.

The tail. A constant reminder that Gohan was probably more than human. That once, Gohan had grown to immeasurable heights and grown hair, as if morphing into a giant ape. A constant reminder to the curious armour Grandpa Gohan had placed away from young Gohan's eyes. To the sphere, left to rest in its crater, covered by the natural plants in time.


Gohan was talented in literature. Having read old books countless times, never bored of the stories or facts hidden within, he seemed adept not only at reading, but writing. This struck Grandpa Gohan as odd; he had never had to teach the child how to read, as he already recognised the letters and their sounds.

Son Gohan had taken to ink the very first time he saw it. As if hoarding such incomprehensible knowledge, he wrote down several words so feverishly, and then repeated those same words over and over again. Grandpa Gohan took interest in the words, but soon discarded it as nonsense scribble from the child. Nevertheless, he eventually took the paper and put it away in a chest he intended to fill with memories.

The day Gohan fell down a crag and hit his head on the rocks, those words lost meaning to him too.


Saiyan

Frieza

Cell

Buu

Beerus.


Sorry for the incredibly late chapter.

As you probably noticed, it's really short.

I've been quite busy and have not been able to work on this, I apologise.

Hopefully, next time you won't have to wait a month for the next chapter...

Next chapter will be much longer.

This was similar to another prologue, I suppose.

Anyways, I plan on not only making next chapter longer, but also possibly re-editing this chapter.

I had this a while ago, and I decided to upload it, rather than nothing, so it hasn't really been proofread.

See you next chapter~