And in a bed across the room from the transforming Eve, Vegeta was dreaming. His dreams lacked any of the pleasantness of Eve's. The scene being portrayed in his mind was as dark as it was terrifying. He was alone on the battlefield, battered, broken, and beaten. Before him stood all of the opponents he had ever faced. There were thousands of them, most of whom he had killed without even flinching, and some of the more notables, such as Frieza and Cell. But Goku was not in front of him, nor was Android 18. They were at his back, as bloodied and weakened as himself. Soon his enemies began to laugh at him, mocked him, took satisfaction in seeing his defeat. Only one of them was not laughing.
The black figure stood there amidst the sea of laughter, its lifeless red eyes burning, sending more fear into his being than he had ever known. Facing death was not what scared him, but what lurked behind those eyes did. They were so detached, so lifeless, yet so focused and piercing, he felt as if they could see into his soul. The laughter began to swell to a roar as the figure approached him, blocking out all other sound. Soon the crowd of his vanquished foes began to fade and blur, then disappeared entirely, leaving only himself and the black figure.
As the darkness approached an overwhelming sense of dread swept over him. He felt as if he was leaving something behind, something that had been left unresolved for the longest time, but he could not remember what it was. He tried in vain to gather his energy to make one final rush at the figure, realizing that he had no more energy to give. All of what he had left was keeping him standing. The figure was almost on top of him when streaks of gold, white, and green began to fill his field of vision. The colors all focused on the blackness but were soon swallowed and spat out.
The next thing he knew he was cold from the neck down. There was no pain, but he knew he was dying, or rather, he was dead. Vegeta blinked and then was outside his body, looking at himself. The black figure's arm had completely severed his head from his neck, and his body lay lifeless on the ground, his head a few feet away. Now he felt himself slowly being drawn upward, pulled toward something he could not see or touch, but nonetheless knew existed. As he continued his ascent he was able to get a better view of the world below him. What he saw left him in speechless.
There was fire and smoke all over, dancing in a strangely beautiful way to an unheard rhythm. There were colored blasts seemingly emanating from nowhere all around below him. When the blast impacted their targets a dull roar could be heard, followed by a slight vibration in the earth. He became aware of hundreds of thousands of beings below him, their movements detectable in the light of the flames and from the exterior lights of their suits. Vehicles were also discernable amidst the din of war. And far, far away on the horizon were gigantic buildings the likes of which he had never seen. As he looked at them, he realized what he left behind was in them.
Vegeta was pulled up even further, above the clouds, and soon the raging man-made tempest blurred and disappeared from sight. But not from his ears. He could still hear it as his attention was drawn upwards buy huge flashes of light. Unlike the scene below him, this gave off no noise. It was a silent ballet of interweaving ships and beams, torpedoes and railguns, all moving to the cadence of war. Vegeta scolded himself for the use of such prosaic analogies. When he focused more on one section of the battle he could divide the ships into two categories: black ones and grey ones.
There was much more black than grey. Tiny dots moved all about the scene, adding their tiny pinpoints of light to the fray. But those tiny pinpoints of light often turned into giant tendrils of flame. Beams carved obscure shaps into armored plating or completely vaporized smaller vessels. When one of the larger ships was destroyed he watched in fascination as explosions rippled across their hulls, breaking the ships breaking into dozens of smaller sections, and then as the smaller pieces in turn detonated. Each of the broken ships soon became still as their fires died in the vacuum.
A terribly bright flash forced him to close his as, but when he opened them again he was no longer in the air. He was on the ground inside a foreign complex. Somehow, he knew the way to go, and knew he had to get there fast. The halls echoed and rocked as the earth trembled beneath the onslaught of the dark invaders, causing the dim red emergency lights to flicker occasionally. He moved with urgency down empty halls until he came upon a plain sealed door, indiscernible from the rest, yet he knew he had arrived. He walked through it with ease, but the sight inside caused his heart to wrench. Huddled in the far corner of the room was a terrified woman with a silent baby.
The woman took no notice of his entry, and he approached her. Tears were streaming down her face, yet she made no noise, she simply stared blankly at a point in the room. In her arms was a purple-haired child that was lifeless and blue. Vegeta was struck with a feeling of sorrow and complete rage at the same time. He wanted more than anything to comfort the stunned woman and hold her close, to tell her the great lie that everything would be alright. He wanted to make up for all the time he had been away from her, let her down, ignored her, but knew that it was too little, too late.
He reached down to caress her face, to feel her softness one last time, but once again the scene changed. He was now alone in a black void, surrounded only by nothingness and his rage. He wanted to lash out as he had done so many times before, destroy something, kill something to alleviate the pain that hurt him more than any blow, any energy blast, any thing, had hurt him before. Yet there was nothing there. His rage soon melted into sorrow as he realized that his life had been nothing more than he allowed it to be. He broke down and wept.
After what seemed like a short time he became aware of a presence in the void, something unlike he had ever felt before. His rage soon returned and was prepared to unleash his full fury on this intruder. When he saw that it was himself he froze. Something inside him said that it was only his body, not his soul. When he heard himself speak he knew this to be true.
"What you have just witnessed is the shape of things to come," his reflection spoke.
"Who are you?" Vegeta inquired with wonder.
"My name is Solarak, and you shall meet me quite soon, in the place that you call reality."
"What is this place?"
"I am surprised that you creatures have such limitations on your mind. You have evolved your bodies to their fullest potential, but you have yet to realize the powers of your essence. This, Saiyan Prince, is merely a dream within your mind."
"How do you know who I am?"
"I am in your brain, young Saiyan, I know everything about you. I know your past, and to some extent, your future. I know your strengths, your weaknesses, I know you better than you know yourself."
"What are you doing in my brain?" Vegeta asked with more of a hostile tone. He did not like his privacy to be invaded.
"You know why I was here, and you know why I showed you the images you just saw. I can only hope that you will take the course of action you know to be best. I am going to leave you to yourself now, but I want you to remember something."
"What is that?"
"That time is the most important thing in the universe. You cannot acquire more of it, and once it has passed you can never get it back. I suggest you value the time you have left, Prince, for the future holds trials the likes of which you have never known."
Before Vegeta could respond everything was gone. His subconscious had abruptly shut down, and he fell into a dreamless sleep. The next day would be the beginning of a change for Vegeta, and it would be a change for the better. But his reverse in attitude meant little in the scheme of things. He was to play only a small part in the events to come, for a plan had been set in motion a thousand light years away that would determine the outcome of the final events, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it
The black figure stood there amidst the sea of laughter, its lifeless red eyes burning, sending more fear into his being than he had ever known. Facing death was not what scared him, but what lurked behind those eyes did. They were so detached, so lifeless, yet so focused and piercing, he felt as if they could see into his soul. The laughter began to swell to a roar as the figure approached him, blocking out all other sound. Soon the crowd of his vanquished foes began to fade and blur, then disappeared entirely, leaving only himself and the black figure.
As the darkness approached an overwhelming sense of dread swept over him. He felt as if he was leaving something behind, something that had been left unresolved for the longest time, but he could not remember what it was. He tried in vain to gather his energy to make one final rush at the figure, realizing that he had no more energy to give. All of what he had left was keeping him standing. The figure was almost on top of him when streaks of gold, white, and green began to fill his field of vision. The colors all focused on the blackness but were soon swallowed and spat out.
The next thing he knew he was cold from the neck down. There was no pain, but he knew he was dying, or rather, he was dead. Vegeta blinked and then was outside his body, looking at himself. The black figure's arm had completely severed his head from his neck, and his body lay lifeless on the ground, his head a few feet away. Now he felt himself slowly being drawn upward, pulled toward something he could not see or touch, but nonetheless knew existed. As he continued his ascent he was able to get a better view of the world below him. What he saw left him in speechless.
There was fire and smoke all over, dancing in a strangely beautiful way to an unheard rhythm. There were colored blasts seemingly emanating from nowhere all around below him. When the blast impacted their targets a dull roar could be heard, followed by a slight vibration in the earth. He became aware of hundreds of thousands of beings below him, their movements detectable in the light of the flames and from the exterior lights of their suits. Vehicles were also discernable amidst the din of war. And far, far away on the horizon were gigantic buildings the likes of which he had never seen. As he looked at them, he realized what he left behind was in them.
Vegeta was pulled up even further, above the clouds, and soon the raging man-made tempest blurred and disappeared from sight. But not from his ears. He could still hear it as his attention was drawn upwards buy huge flashes of light. Unlike the scene below him, this gave off no noise. It was a silent ballet of interweaving ships and beams, torpedoes and railguns, all moving to the cadence of war. Vegeta scolded himself for the use of such prosaic analogies. When he focused more on one section of the battle he could divide the ships into two categories: black ones and grey ones.
There was much more black than grey. Tiny dots moved all about the scene, adding their tiny pinpoints of light to the fray. But those tiny pinpoints of light often turned into giant tendrils of flame. Beams carved obscure shaps into armored plating or completely vaporized smaller vessels. When one of the larger ships was destroyed he watched in fascination as explosions rippled across their hulls, breaking the ships breaking into dozens of smaller sections, and then as the smaller pieces in turn detonated. Each of the broken ships soon became still as their fires died in the vacuum.
A terribly bright flash forced him to close his as, but when he opened them again he was no longer in the air. He was on the ground inside a foreign complex. Somehow, he knew the way to go, and knew he had to get there fast. The halls echoed and rocked as the earth trembled beneath the onslaught of the dark invaders, causing the dim red emergency lights to flicker occasionally. He moved with urgency down empty halls until he came upon a plain sealed door, indiscernible from the rest, yet he knew he had arrived. He walked through it with ease, but the sight inside caused his heart to wrench. Huddled in the far corner of the room was a terrified woman with a silent baby.
The woman took no notice of his entry, and he approached her. Tears were streaming down her face, yet she made no noise, she simply stared blankly at a point in the room. In her arms was a purple-haired child that was lifeless and blue. Vegeta was struck with a feeling of sorrow and complete rage at the same time. He wanted more than anything to comfort the stunned woman and hold her close, to tell her the great lie that everything would be alright. He wanted to make up for all the time he had been away from her, let her down, ignored her, but knew that it was too little, too late.
He reached down to caress her face, to feel her softness one last time, but once again the scene changed. He was now alone in a black void, surrounded only by nothingness and his rage. He wanted to lash out as he had done so many times before, destroy something, kill something to alleviate the pain that hurt him more than any blow, any energy blast, any thing, had hurt him before. Yet there was nothing there. His rage soon melted into sorrow as he realized that his life had been nothing more than he allowed it to be. He broke down and wept.
After what seemed like a short time he became aware of a presence in the void, something unlike he had ever felt before. His rage soon returned and was prepared to unleash his full fury on this intruder. When he saw that it was himself he froze. Something inside him said that it was only his body, not his soul. When he heard himself speak he knew this to be true.
"What you have just witnessed is the shape of things to come," his reflection spoke.
"Who are you?" Vegeta inquired with wonder.
"My name is Solarak, and you shall meet me quite soon, in the place that you call reality."
"What is this place?"
"I am surprised that you creatures have such limitations on your mind. You have evolved your bodies to their fullest potential, but you have yet to realize the powers of your essence. This, Saiyan Prince, is merely a dream within your mind."
"How do you know who I am?"
"I am in your brain, young Saiyan, I know everything about you. I know your past, and to some extent, your future. I know your strengths, your weaknesses, I know you better than you know yourself."
"What are you doing in my brain?" Vegeta asked with more of a hostile tone. He did not like his privacy to be invaded.
"You know why I was here, and you know why I showed you the images you just saw. I can only hope that you will take the course of action you know to be best. I am going to leave you to yourself now, but I want you to remember something."
"What is that?"
"That time is the most important thing in the universe. You cannot acquire more of it, and once it has passed you can never get it back. I suggest you value the time you have left, Prince, for the future holds trials the likes of which you have never known."
Before Vegeta could respond everything was gone. His subconscious had abruptly shut down, and he fell into a dreamless sleep. The next day would be the beginning of a change for Vegeta, and it would be a change for the better. But his reverse in attitude meant little in the scheme of things. He was to play only a small part in the events to come, for a plan had been set in motion a thousand light years away that would determine the outcome of the final events, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it