Deep within a mountain fortress near the ruins of a destroyed tower an old man sits contemplating the rows of monitors on the desk before him. Each one shows various confrontations with the same individual. The bottom row shows a young boy in an orange gi training, coming in second in a tournament, fighting a humanoid rabbit, punching his way through the demon King Piccolo, flying around on a cloud and transforming into a giant ape like creature.
The second row only has two monitors showing video. The first shows the same boy, now grown, defeating a somehow reborn King Piccolo in another tournament as well as grainy footage of the young man finishing off a badly injured purple and white alien. The third row shows the the same young man recovering from heart disease, fighting against an android brother and sister and teleporting away with an oversized green android before it explodes.
the fourth row shows the young man competing in yet another tournament, speaking to a purple skinned alien and fighting against variations of the same pink creature. The final row, similar to the second row, has only two monitors showing video. The first monitor shows the young man fighting a purple cat like alien and the second shows an image of a massive flash of light coming from deep space.
The old man raps robotic fingers on the top of the desk, deep in thought. His one remaining eye roams across the moniters before returning to the main console in front of him. He glares at the information scrolling across the consoles screen. it shows various charts and graphs pertaining to the power level of the individual on the monitors. At first there is a gradual uptick in power followed by a few massive spikes. The final section of the graph shows the line going straight up without end.
A static filled huff was emitted from the old mans mouthplate as various tubes and cylinders gurgled with what passed for his blood these days. The faint spinning of gears started up as a device designed to control his blood pressure activated in response to his growing frustration. Suddenly a buzzer on the console went off accompanied by a blinking light. The old man closed his eye for a second before focusing.
Having long since become more than human he had no need to physically press the button on the intercom. His other, cybernetic eye, briefly glowed red as the computer that shared space with his brain activated the intercom. "Violet... I've told you numerous times not to bother me unless it is imperative!" The old man half -wheezed, half-yelled through his vocoder. "Yes General S..I m..mean Zevra Sir!" A flustered female voice said through the intercom. [Old habits die hard I suppose.] Zevra thought to himself.
"I..it's just the..that.. Subject 7 has been detected!" An oxygen pump engaged suddenly to allow Zevra the ability to draw in a deep breath before speaking. "Your certain?" He said as his red, cybernetic pupil contracted. "Absolutely Sir. there can be no mistaking his unique power signature... it is indeed Subject 7." Violet's
voice now steadying. A loud rasping screech that repeated every 2 to 3 seconds could be heard through the intercom...Zevra's equivalent of laughter.
"It's finally time... make sure everything is in readiness. It's time to make some changes." His red pupil suddenly widening before glancing over to a clear glass chamber to the left of him. Inside it were seven pedestals upon which set seven orange orbs, each with a number of red stars within them ranging from one to seven. "It's nearly time... dragon..." He spoke that last word with as much venom as his mechanical voice would allow. "Your powers have favored them all this time... perhaps someone else should have a turn..."