Dragonball Quest
Spawnot Saga
5 Years Pass…Claimer: I own Ima Ryditz.
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z. Nor do I own Wei Diablowong. Ima Sazot, Blizzard, Necro, or Spawnot. They belong to their respective creators.
A little boy of 4 years was holding a ball of light. He had black eyes, hair that stuck up in every direction possible with a color to match his eyes, and an expression of concentration on his face. He saw a rock fly up, and then he threw the light ball. It hit home, disintegrating the rock. He heard a clapping sound. "Bravo, bro, bravo!" He turned to face his brother, who was smiling. "Thanks Ryditz! I'm getting' a WWHHOOOLLEE lot better!" Ryditz's smile turned to a grin. Could this kid be ANY cuter? "Yup, you sure are, Sazot, you sure are…"
Wei Diablowong was deep in meditation. A blue aura flared around him, and gave an outsider the impression that his hair was an arctic blue, not jet-black, its true color. He stopped focusing, and instead turned to ponder on the events that had transpired in his life so far. 5 years ago he had lost to Ima Ryditz in the Elite Tournament. He was still considered elite-rank, just not the 1 elite. He deserved it too. He had been too confident in that battle, and had severely underestimated Ima's abilities in that battle. His blindness didn't allow him to see that Ima had surpassed him in power. Now, 5 years later, Ima and himself had gotten better, though they hadn't trained as much in recent years, Diablowong training himself to not feel emotions, and Ryditz, taking care of his new brother. What was ironic was that the Imas were the closest things to friends that Diablowong had. He didn't know how it happened. Maybe it was that they had sparred with each other to keep their strength up, and the bond had gone from there. He'd never know…
In deep space, a ship made its way towards Vegeta. The course itself wasn't plotted: it was just a random stop. Inside it, a young man worked the controls. He had a slender frame, and striking blonde hair that reached down to his shoulders. He was wearing a blue long-sleeved shirt, and a pair of old jeans. He reached out to press a few buttons, then relaxed at his chair, whistling. "BOO!" Came a voice from behind, but the man wasn't fazed. "Don't see why you keep on trying, Blizzard…" the man muttered. "You're no fun," Blizzard muttered, taking a seat in the co-pilot's chair. Blizzard was a Changling, though sometimes his race was referred to as Icers. Blizzard was short, with a relatively flat fact, with two horns extending 45 degrees off to the right or left, with a glossy teal dome for the top of his head. He was wearing a saiyan battle jacket with shoulder pads. "So, Necro, how long until you think we reach this 'Vegetable,' or whatever." "Next few days, mebbe?" Necro replied. "So, Saiyans this time, huh? Spawnot sure like irony, no doubt," Blizzard said with a menacing chuckle. Necro joined him. "Yeah, the hunters are about to become the hunted!"