The skies above Beerus' planet were an expanse of swirling colors, an ever-changing tapestry that defied the conventional understanding of space and time. Constellations of stars that did not exist in any other universe twinkled merrily as if in anticipation of something monumental. The celestial orchestra was accompanied by a symphony of cosmic phenomena—comets streaking by, asteroid showers creating beautiful if brief fireworks and distant nebulae pulsing with radiant hues. All of these seemed as if they were heralding the end of a long period of cosmic tranquility.
Inside the darkened chamber of a gargantuan palace that hovered at the center of the celestial paradise, an air of impending significance was palpable. This was the resting place of Beerus, the God of Destruction, a being whose mood swings could decide the fate of planets, stars, and even entire galaxies. Towering hourglasses, each filled with a different type of glittering cosmic sand, floated around the room like sentinels. They had been counting down the seconds, minutes, years, and decades that Beerus had spent in slumber. Now, they began to chime, their vibrations mingling with the cosmic energy in the room. Their hollow bodies resonated with an otherworldly sound that was both harmonious and menacing, a paradox befitting the deity they were about to wake.
As if on cue, the hourglasses exploded in a burst of cosmic energy, sending ripples of power that washed over the room like a tsunami. The event would have spelled disaster in any other context, but here it served as an elaborate alarm clock. The explosion rocked the bed at the center of the room, which was itself a grand affair adorned with fabrics from celestial looms and embroidered with runes of ancient power. But the being it housed was even grander.
Beerus began to stir, his feline ears twitching as the cosmic waves of energy collided against them. His eyes—those golden orbs that had seen the birth and death of countless civilizations—slowly opened, blinking away remnants of a dream that he'd already forgotten.
"Urgh… What is it now? Can't a God get some rest?" he mumbled, voice tinged with irritation as he sat up, stretching his limbs. His tail flicked with annoyance, slapping away stardust that had settled on his bed during his long sleep.
A serene voice, always unperturbed, broke the silence that followed the grand display. "Good morning, Lord Beerus. I trust you had a restful sleep. You've been at it for thirty-nine years, after all."
Whis, the angelic attendant to Beerus, appeared as if from nowhere. His staff in hand, he hovered effortlessly in the air, his elegant garments untouched by the earlier explosion. His placid expression was as calm as a still pond, contrasting sharply with Beerus' grumpy demeanor.
"Morning? Whis, do you have any idea how dreadful it is to be jolted awake like that? I could have destroyed a galaxy in my irritation!" Beerus exclaimed, his tail thrashing about more vigorously.
Whis chuckled softly. "Ah, but Lord Beerus, it was you who set the alarm to be so… explosive. You insisted that it was the only way to make sure you didn't hit the 'snooze' button, as it were."
Beerus paused, his eyes narrowing as he processed this information. "Did I, now? I must have been terribly excited about something to make such a foolish decision. Do you remember what it was?"
"As a matter of fact, you mentioned a premonition—a glimpse of a formidable adversary, or perhaps an intriguing mystery that would pique your interest. You were quite vague, but adamant that you must be awakened on this exact date," Whis explained, twirling his staff absentmindedly.
"Ah, yes. Now I remember, vaguely." Beerus sighed. "Premonitions can be quite irksome. They interrupt my sleep but never have the decency to be clear about what they imply."
Whis floated down gracefully, placing a breakfast tray filled with delicacies from across various universes on a table beside Beerus. "Well, premonition or not, an awake God of Destruction is an active God of Destruction. Perhaps some nourishment will help clear the cobwebs?"
"Ah, food, the one constant pleasure." Beerus looked at the tray with increasing interest, momentarily forgetting his grumpiness. He picked up a piece of exotic fruit that resembled a cross between a peach and a lychee but had the fragrance of neither. As he took a bite, a flood of flavors erupted in his mouth, and a look of satisfaction washed over his face.
"Mmm, this is heavenly, Whis. Almost good enough to make me forget the dreadful way I was awakened." Beerus complimented as he continued to relish his first meal in decades.
Whis beamed. "I aim to please, Lord Beerus. So, what will you do now that you're awake?"
Beerus put down the fruit, his expression turning serious. "First, I think it's time to investigate this so-called premonition. And then, if it turns out to be something that piques my interest… well, you know what I enjoy doing."
"Destroying things?" Whis ventured with a teasing smile.
The walls of Beerus' palace shimmered with a luminescent sheen, the colors shifting and oscillating as if they were themselves alive, reflecting the whims of their master. Whis led the way down a corridor adorned with intricate designs, each motif symbolizing a different aspect of destruction and creation.
"Ah, Lord Beerus, there's nothing quite like a bath to refresh oneself after a long slumber, don't you agree?" Whis glanced over his shoulder, his eyes twinkling.
"Indeed, Whis. Especially when that bath is prepared by someone who understands the precise temperature and mixture of cosmic salts needed to rejuvenate celestial beings," Beerus conceded, trailing behind his attendant. His ears perked, showing a sliver of anticipation, a stark contrast to the grumpiness that clouded him just moments ago.
They arrived at a grand chamber, its walls lined with tiles made from crystallized starlight. The room resonated with an ethereal hum, and at its center was an enormous bathtub. It was filled with shimmering water that seemed to capture the essence of the cosmos itself, sparkling with miniature constellations. The aroma from various cosmic herbs filled the air, promising a bath like no other.
"I've taken the liberty of incorporating some Stardust Lavender and Nebula Rosemary to help enhance your relaxation," Whis said, waving his staff over the tub, fine-tuning the ingredients that swirled in the waters.
Beerus, taking a sniff of the air, grinned. "A scent as pleasant as this could only serve to improve my mood. You've outdone yourself, Whis."
Pleased, Whis gestured towards the bath. "Your bath awaits, my Lord."
With a graceful leap that belied his earlier grogginess, Beerus descended into the bath, the water accepting him with a cosmic splash. The God of Destruction sighed contentedly as he submerged himself, the celestial concoction going to work, kneading away the vestiges of his prolonged sleep. A purr of pleasure vibrated in the air.
After what felt like an eternity encapsulated in mere minutes, Beerus rose from the bath, a different deity from the one who had entered. His fur seemed to glimmer, and his eyes sparkled with newfound clarity.
Dressed now in his signature God of Destruction attire—his regal purple and gold ensemble—Beerus exuded an air of authority that seemed to ripple through the very fabric of the universe.
Feeling revitalized, he declared, "Now, I'm ready to face whatever premonition that's been gnawing at the corners of my subconscious."
With that, they proceeded to walk through the kaleidoscopic landscapes that adorned Beerus' planet, heading towards the residence of the Oracle Fish. As they traversed the gardens of floating islands and celestial waterfalls, Whis decided to inquire further.
"Lord Beerus, you mentioned earlier that you had a premonition of some sort. A dream, was it? Would you be willing to elaborate?" Whis asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.
Beerus looked momentarily contemplative before speaking, "Well, it was more of a fleeting vision than anything concrete. I dreamed of an arch-rival appearing someday—a rival who could finally give me the battle I've longed for."
"And what made this dream so memorable?" Whis pressed.
Beerus chuckled. "Oh, you'll love this, Whis. This formidable opponent had pink hair."
Whis paused in his stride for a moment, his eyebrows arching in amused skepticism. "Pink hair, you say? My, my, what an intimidating color. Should I start scouring the multiverse for warriors with such… daring fashion choices?"
Beerus scowled, his tail flicking with annoyance. "I knew you'd find it amusing, but remember, appearances can be deceptive. And let's not forget, it's the substance that intrigues me, not the style."
"Fair enough," Whis conceded, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "Still, it's not often one hears of fearsome warriors with pink hair. It's a bit, shall we say, whimsical?"
"Whimsical or not, the dream was vivid, and the aura of that warrior was unlike anything I've sensed before," Beerus replied, defending his subconscious visions.
By this point, they had reached their destination—a pond of crystalline water inhabited by the Oracle Fish, a being of immense wisdom and, purportedly, knowledge of the future. It was a vivid shade of blue and swam lazily through its habitat, which was filled with flora resembling underwater fireworks displays, constantly exploding in blooms of light.
"Ah, Oracle Fish, we have come to seek your wisdom," Whis announced, waving his staff to create ripples in the pond, signaling the Oracle Fish to approach.
The Oracle Fish swam towards them, its eyes filled with an intelligence that seemed anachronistic to its small frame. "Hmm? Lord Beerus, awake so soon? And you've brought Whis along. Must be something important."
Beerus looked at the fish intently, "Oracle Fish, do you remember telling me years ago that I would encounter a formidable adversary with pink hair? Because I've been having dreams about such an opponent recently."
The Oracle Fish floated in thought, then responded, "Pink hair, you say? I can't say I remember telling you that, Lord Beerus."
Whis chuckled, "Ah, it seems that your dreams and premonitions might be less prophetic and more—what's the word?—speculative."
Beerus' eyes narrowed, and his ears flattened against his head. "Are you mocking me, Whis?"
"Would I ever?" Whis grinned, clearly enjoying the moment.
Beerus huffed. "Well, if the Oracle Fish can't confirm it, and you find it so amusing, then there's no point lingering here. Let's go."
Beerus abruptly turned and stormed off, his tail twitching with irritation. Whis followed, his levity dissolving into a more serious demeanor.
"Very well, Lord Beerus. But whether your premonition proves true or not, something tells me that your awakening will set off a chain of events that could very well shake the cosmos."
Beerus didn't look back but merely grumbled, "Let it shake. The universe could use a good jolt."
And with that, they left the Oracle Fish's sanctuary, heading back towards their palace.
Beerus stalked through the luminous corridors of his celestial palace, each step resonating with his irritation. The air around him crackled subtly with the energy of his displeasure. He was, quite simply, not in a mood to be trifled with.
"Oracle Fish and his convenient memory lapses. And Whis—always a step ahead but not helpful when you actually need some clarity," he grumbled. His tail flicking sharply as if slicing through his frustrations.
But suddenly, he stopped. His eyes, usually narrowed in some form of disdain or another, widened perceptibly. He felt it—a twitch in the cosmic tapestry, a ripple in the otherwise smooth façade of his universe. An energy unlike any he had ever sensed before beckoned on the periphery of his godly senses. It was as if someone had pricked the balloon of reality, allowing a breath of alien air to rush in.
"What is this? Some new form of energy?" he muttered to himself, genuinely puzzled.
Then, echoing as if from a great distance yet intimately close, a voice—a young girl's voice—chanted words that tingled along his senses. The words themselves were unfamiliar, but the intent behind them pulsed like a beacon. It was a summoning.
"My servant that exists somewhere in this vast universe, my divine, beautiful, wise, powerful servant, heed my call. I wish from the very bottom of my heart to make a contract with you..."
"A summoning? Who dares?" Beerus hissed, outrage replacing bewilderment.
Before he could react further, a sphere of vibrant energy enveloped him. He saw arcane symbols and magical constructs whirl around him as he felt himself being drawn into a vortex. With a sudden jolt that left even him disoriented, Beerus found himself being pulled out of his universe altogether.
Whis, taking his time to catch up, suddenly paused. He sensed the abrupt void where Lord Beerus's formidable energy signature should have been. It was an absence that left a tangible emptiness, a question mark in a sentence that always had a resolute exclamation.
"Lord Beerus? Where could he have gone?" Whis said softly, eyes narrowing as he expanded his senses.
He reached out with his ethereal feelers, stretching the tendrils of his awareness across the universe. Yet, he found no trace of Beerus. What he did find, however, were the lingering wisps of that strange, new energy—the same energy, he suspected, that Beerus had encountered. It left a taste of another reality, a sense of magical incantation, and the feel of a primitive world.
"Ah, so he got ensnared by a summoning spell—from another world, no less. How very… novel," Whis mused, his voice tinged with both amusement and concern. "Could this have something to do with his premonition, perhaps? I do hope he's not causing too much chaos wherever he is."
Whis tapped his staff gently on the floor as if contemplating his next steps. Then, he sighed—a rare expression of worry for the normally unflappable attendant.
"Wherever you are, Lord Beerus, I do hope you're finding this experience... enlightening," Whis murmured. But despite his light tone, a flicker of concern danced in his eyes. "And for the sake of that world, I hope they realize just what—or who—they've summoned."
In a castle adorned with intricate stonework and tall, looming spires, young mages bustled through the hallways, their excited chatter filling the air. Emerald gardens bloomed in courtyards, and ornate fountains danced under the celestial sun. It was a magnificent display of affluence and magical prowess. This was Tristain Academy, a prestigious institution where young nobles honed their magical skills.
But not everyone found it to be a haven of enlightenment. In one of the spellcasting chambers, a tense atmosphere had settled. Rows of young mages were assembled in their finest robes, nervously clutching wands and staves as they awaited their turn. It was the day of the familiar summoning ritual—a rite of passage that would bond them to their magical companions for life.
Seated away from her classmates, Louise Françoise Le Blanc de La Vallière fiddled with her wand—a simple but elegant piece of wood. Her face was a canvas of determination, but her trembling hands betrayed her anxiety.
"Louise the Zero, are you really going through with this? You can still back out, you know," taunted Guiche, a pompous youth twirling a rose between his fingers. His metallic summoning familiar—a molten bronze mouse named Verðandi—sat on his shoulder, looking equally disdainful.
Ignoring him, Louise took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She envisioned her familiar—a majestic creature that would silence her critics, a loyal partner that would stand by her side, come what may.
Kirche, a striking young woman with a mischievous grin, leaned toward Louise. "Oh, Louise, don't listen to Guiche. I'm sure you'll summon something... appropriately mediocre." Her fire salamander familiar, Flame, hissed approvingly from her lap.
Louise bit her lower lip but said nothing. She knew her reputation—the infamous Louise the Zero, a mage who could never get her spells right. But today, she would prove them wrong. She had to.
Just then, Professor Colbert, a mild-mannered man with a kind face framed by graying hair, cleared his throat. "Quiet down, everyone. The ritual is sacred, and we shall treat it as such." He unfurled a scroll and began reading the names of students who had successfully completed their summoning.
As each student was called, they stepped onto the ornate magical circle inscribed on the floor. With their wand movements and incantations, a burst of light would emanate, and a creature would materialize—a falcon, a wolf, a dragon, each reflecting the talent and potential of the summoner.
Finally, Professor Colbert looked down at the scroll, then peered over his spectacles at Louise. "Louise Françoise Le Blanc de La Vallière, you're next."
As Louise walked to the circle, her footsteps seemed to echo ominously. Whispers broke out among the students like a wave of unspoken jeers. She could feel their eyes on her, scrutinizing, doubting, almost willing her to fail.
Standing at the edge of the magical circle, she glanced at Professor Colbert, who gave her a reassuring nod. In that moment, her mind stilled, her focus sharpening like the point of her wand. This was her chance—a chance to rewrite her story, to earn her place in the annals of magical history.
With her heart pounding in her chest, Louise raised her wand. Her voice, clear and resolute, began to chant the ancient incantation.
"My servant that exists somewhere in this vast universe, my divine, beautiful, wise, powerful servant, heed my call. I wish from the very bottom of my heart to make a contract with you..."
A tempestuous wind kicked up, swirling around the room and rattling the windows. The magical circle beneath her feet glowed brighter, each line and rune shimmering with raw energy. Then, with a final shout, she thrust her wand skyward.
For a moment, there was silence, as if the world itself was holding its breath. Then, a burst of light so brilliant it blinded everyone in the room and filled the chamber. When it subsided, in the middle of the circle, shrouded in ethereal smoke, stood a figure.
Louise's eyes widened. She had done it. She had successfully performed the summoning ritual. And from the gasps and murmurs around her, she knew she had summoned something—or someone—completely unexpected.
As the smoke cleared, the figure became more defined, and Louise found herself locking eyes with her new familiar. But this was no ordinary creature; this was something powerful, something cosmic, something that defied all expectations.
Louise's gaze met that of her summoned entity, her intended 'familiar.' As the lingering wisps of ethereal smoke dissolved into the air, her eyes widened at the being standing before her. Tall, feline, and definitely not human, her would-be familiar was unlike any she had seen before or even read about in magical tomes.
"Who... what are you?" she stammered, staring up into his golden, almond-shaped eyes. The air around him crackled subtly as if bending under the weight of his presence.
Beerus, the God of Destruction, looked around the chamber—its intricately designed walls, the inscriptions on the floor, and the students in their mage robes—all of which were foreign to him. He then cast his eyes down upon the young girl who had summoned him.
"Me? Rather, the question is, what are you? And where is this?" he growled, clearly perturbed.
Louise, sensing a wave of hostility emanating from her newly summoned entity, lifted her chin up defiantly. "I am Louise Françoise Le Blanc de La Vallière, third daughter of the Vallière family, and you—whatever you are—are supposed to be my familiar."
"Familiar?" Beerus blinked, his tail flicking behind him with irritation. "Do I look like a servant to you?"
Louise felt a hot rush of embarrassment flush her cheeks. "Well, you do look... rather funny," she muttered, taking in his feline features, his purple hairless skin, and the Egyptian-like attire.
"Funny-looking?" Beerus looked like he was on the verge of erupting. The room itself seemed to vibrate from his suppressed anger. But then his eyes caught sight of Louise's hair—her striking pink hair. It was the same shade that had dominated his premonition, the one he had been pondering over before his abrupt transportation to this world. Intrigued, yet not willing to disclose this realization, he chose to remain silent on the matter.
Taking his silence as an opportunity, Louise mustered her courage and spoke in a voice laced with false confidence. "So, what's your name, would-be familiar?"
"Beerus, God of Destruction," he answered curtly, unwilling to hide his title despite the strangeness of the situation.
A momentary pause filled the room, and a hushed murmur spread through the assembly of students and onlookers.
"God of what now?" Louise blinked, her eyes widening. While the title sounded impressive, it also sounded terrifying.
"You heard me. Now, would you kindly explain what's going on? I'm not accustomed to being yanked from my world without any warning."
Louise felt her pride bristle at the implication. "You are in Tristain Academy, in the kingdom of Tristain. You were supposed to be summoned to be my familiar, magical companion and servant. And as such, you would be bound to protect me and serve me."
Beerus raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a sardonic smile. "Serve you? Protect you? I don't serve anyone. And as for protection, you should be more concerned about protecting your world from me."
Professor Colbert, who had been watching the exchange with both amazement and growing concern, felt that intervening might not be the best course of action at this point. The tension between Louise and her would-be familiar was palpable, and he was unsure how to handle a god of destruction.
"I am nobody's familiar, little girl," Beerus snorted, cutting through the uneasy silence that had fallen over the room. "However..." His eyes flicked once again to Louise's pink hair, and he seemed to contemplate something. After a moment, he sighed dramatically, a sound that carried both resignation and an element of curiosity. "This situation intrigues me enough to stick around for a little while. But remember, I'm not your servant or protector. I'm simply a god...observing."
Louise looked at Beerus, her eyes searching for a clue, a hint of his real intentions. There was something about him, something undeniably powerful and dangerous, yet the oddity of his being here, in her world, held its own form of enchantment.
As they stepped out into the vibrant sunlit courtyard, Beerus looked around curiously. Rows of tall trees flanked the stone pathway, their leaves dancing in the afternoon breeze. Students were clustered around in groups, showing off their newly summoned familiars with varying degrees of pride and awe.
"So, what's happening here?" Beerus asked, casting an aloof glance at a group of students cooing over a griffon-like creature.
"After second-year students like myself summon our familiars, we get the rest of the day off to familiarize ourselves with them," Louise explained, her eyes sweeping over the courtyard as if looking for a place to sit.
"Familiarize?" Beerus mused. "I assume you mean to pamper and feed your so-called 'servants'?"
"Well, not exactly pamper," Louise began cautiously, "but yes, generally get to know them, learn their strengths, habits, that sort of thing."
Before Beerus could reply, the sound of high heels clicking against stone interrupted them. Louise turned around to find Kirche Zerbst, the sultry, flame-haired student from Germania, approaching them with a fox-like grin.
"Ah, Louise the Zero. So, this is your familiar, huh?" Kirche gave Beerus a sweeping once-over, her eyes lingering on his peculiar appearance. "Well, he certainly matches your unique taste. A furry deity of some sort?"
Beerus's eyes narrowed, but before he could open his mouth to unleash what would undoubtedly be a biting retort, a delightful scent wafted through the air. With a swish of his tail, he turned and sauntered off, utterly indifferent to the teenage dramas unfolding around him.
Louise, momentarily distracted by Kirche's jibe, didn't notice Beerus's departure. "My familiar is none of your business, Kirche."
"Oh, touched a nerve, have I?" Kirche chortled. "You should be grateful; at least your familiar makes you look a little less boring."
Meanwhile, Beerus had located the source of the heavenly aroma—Siesta, the academy maid, who was serving slices of cake on a dainty silver tray to the students and their familiars. She wore a traditional maid outfit, complete with a white apron and frilled headpiece.
"Human, what is this divine-smelling creation?" Beerus inquired, hovering near the tray like a moth to a flame.
Siesta looked up, her eyes widening in surprise at the sight of Beerus. His otherworldly appearance was shocking, yet something about his aura seemed irresistibly compelling. "Um, this is cake, sir. Would you like a slice?"
"Would I?!" Beerus seemed ecstatic, practically snatching the last remaining piece of cake from the tray.
Just as Beerus prepared to savor his prize, a voice brimming with entitlement filled the air. "Siesta! Where's my slice of cake? I specifically asked you to save one for me!"
Guiche de Gramont, a blond-haired student with a narcissistic streak, strutted over, a small rose-wielding brass golem trailing behind him. However, upon seeing the last slice of cake in Beerus's possession, his face flushed crimson with indignation.
"You! What do you think you're doing? That cake was meant for me!"
Beerus looked at Guiche as one might look at an annoying insect. "Buzz off. This cake is mine now."
The audacity of Beerus's dismissal visibly enraged Guiche. "Do you have any idea who I am? I am Guiche de Gramont, and—"
"Do you have any idea who I am?" Beerus interrupted, his voice dripping with contempt. "I'm Beerus, God of Destruction, and currently the holder of this delicious-looking cake."
With that, he took a sumptuous bite, his eyes lighting up with joy. The cake was a symphony of flavors—chocolate, cream, and a hint of something heavenly that Beerus couldn't quite put his finger on. It was sublime, a culinary masterpiece worthy of a god.
Beerus was savoring the final remnants of his delightful slice of cake, his eyes closed in rapture, when Guiche decided to make his move. In a swift, overconfident motion, the young noble snatched the slice from Beerus's hand.
"You may have been able to take it, but that doesn't mean it belongs to you," Guiche sneered, holding the cake as if it were a prized trophy. "Some creatures are just beneath others."
The air seemed to drop a few degrees. Beerus's eyes opened, piercing and dangerous. "What did you say?"
Before Guiche could utter another word, his hand slipped—perhaps a subconscious tremor of fear—and the slice of cake plummeted to the ground, landing in a sad heap of crumbs and frosting.
That was the last straw.
Beerus stood up, and as he did, an ominous purple aura began to envelop him. His eyes glowed with a hue that could only be described as celestial wrath. The ground beneath him began to tremble, cracks spreading like veins across the surface. It was as if the planet itself was rebelling against the gravity of his fury. Above, the sky darkened dramatically, clouds swirling in a chaotic ballet.
Students screamed and scattered, their familiars just as frightened. Professors started chanting protective spells, magical barriers materializing around the academy's architecture. Yet nothing seemed able to withstand the ominous force emanating from Beerus.
Louise, who had been watching this unfold from the edge of the courtyard, felt her heart leap into her throat. She raced toward Siesta, who was standing immobilized, her tray trembling in her hands. "What happened? Why is he like this?"
"It's—It's the cake," Siesta stuttered, her voice tinged with disbelief and fear. "Guiche took the last slice away from him."
Louise's eyes shifted to Guiche, who was now cowering, his usually arrogant demeanor shattered by terror. For once, he looked his age—a young man, barely more than a boy, unprepared for the force of the universe he had just trifled with.
Realizing that there was no talking Beerus out of his celestial tantrum, Louise's gaze darted across the courtyard. Her eyes fell on a student about to take a bite of a chocolate cake slice. Summoning every ounce of her agility, she bolted toward him, snatching the cake right out of his hand.
"I'm really, really sorry about this!" she yelled over her shoulder as she raced back to where Beerus stood, his aura of destruction reaching a fever pitch.
With a leap that defied her petite stature, Louise broke through the crowd, skidding to a halt right in front of Beerus. "Beerus, wait!"
He turned his menacing eyes toward her, and for a moment, Louise felt like she was staring into the abyss.
"I have cake," she blurted out, lifting the stolen slice toward him like an offering to an ancient deity.
His eyes flickered for a moment, focusing on the cake. The aura around him seemed to waver, the ground's trembling lessening by a fraction. Louise held her breath.
Slowly, almost cautiously, Beerus reached out and took the cake from her hand. He examined it briefly and then took a bite.
A second passed, then another. Gradually, the purple aura dissipated, the earth ceased its trembling, and the sky began to brighten. Students and faculty let out a collective sigh of relief, although their faces still held the pallor of lingering dread.
Beerus swallowed, clearing his throat as if nothing had happened. "If it wasn't for this cake, the entire planet would've been destroyed."
Louise felt her knees weaken, a sigh of relief escaping her lips. The tension that had gripped the entire academy seemed to evaporate, replaced by a collective sense of incredulity and awe.
Guiche, stumbling back to his feet, was visibly shaken. The bravado he typically carried like a cloak had been torn away, leaving only a sense of vulnerability and disbelief. He met Louise's gaze for a moment, his eyes filled with a newfound respect—or perhaps, more accurately, a newfound fear.
Beerus looked down at Louise, pondering. She had striking pink hair, just like the figure in his premonition. Yet she was a mortal, and he didn't sense much power emanating from her. Could this small, defiant girl really be the arch-rival he had foreseen?
For now, he decided, observations were in order. And given that this world provided such delicacies as the cake he'd just consumed, staying a bit longer didn't sound like too terrible an idea.
As Louise and Beerus stood side by side in a courtyard filled with students still reeling from their brush with annihilation, a curious form of understanding settled between them—an understanding neither had anticipated but that both, in their own unique ways, found worth exploring.
I had an absolute blast writing this one-shot story featuring a most unlikely pairing: Louise from "Familiar of Zero" and Beerus from the "Dragon Ball" series. The clash of worlds, personalities, and—of course—the importance of cake made this an incredibly fun narrative to explore.
I want to thank all of you for taking the time to read this tale, and I must say that I'm quite intrigued by the possibilities this crossover universe holds. There's so much more to delve into—more culinary delights for Beerus to discover, more magical escapades for Louise, and perhaps even a deeper unraveling of Beerus's premonition. For now, though, this story stands as a one-shot, but I promise I'll get back to this intriguing crossover universe in the future.