Chapter 1: The Summoning of the Elder
Guru sat on a grassy hill, his immense body resting on a makeshift platform. Earth's sky stretched endlessly above him, its unfamiliar shades of blue and white clouds a far cry from the green skies of Namek. The cool breeze brushed against his wrinkled skin, but it did little to ease the immense fatigue coursing through him. His time had nearly come.
He had known this moment was inevitable. After the Z-Warriors used the Dragon Balls to wish all the inhabitants of Namek to Earth, his life had been prolonged by the strange twist of fate. But even the magic of the Eternal Dragon could not delay the end for long. His body had already been at its limit before the battle with Frieza, and now, on this foreign world, Guru could feel the last vestiges of his strength slipping away.
Around him, some of the Namekians worked to settle into their new life, but many gathered close, concerned for their elder. Dende, always attentive, watched from a distance, his young face etched with worry. Guru, however, had accepted his fate. He had guided his people through their darkest hour, witnessed the fall of Frieza, and now he could leave them in the capable hands of the next generation.
He closed his eyes, ready for the peace of the afterlife.
But then, just as the darkness began to claim him, Guru felt an unfamiliar force, a tug at the very core of his being. His eyes shot open as the world around him began to distort, the clear sky of Earth fading into a blur of light and shadows. He sensed a powerful magic enveloping him, warping space itself, dragging him away from the peaceful end he had anticipated.
In the next instant, Guru found himself elsewhere.
His massive body materialized in a cramped, dimly lit chamber. The air was thick with the scent of incense and damp stone, and the walls were lined with strange, glowing runes. He was no longer on Earth, but instead in some kind of magical summoning room, a place where energies unknown to him crackled faintly in the air.
Before him stood a small group of humans, all garbed in ornate robes of deep crimson and gold. They stared up at him in awe, their expressions a mix of wonder and disbelief. One of them, a young man wearing a delicate crown of laurel leaves, stepped forward cautiously, his eyes wide as he took in the sight of the ancient Namekian.
"By the gods," the young man whispered, voice trembling. "What... what is this creature? Archmage Cailen, is this truly the warrior we sought?"
An older man with a long gray beard, holding a wooden staff, stood beside the king. His face was pale, his voice shaky. "I... I don't understand, Your Majesty," he stammered. "The ritual was meant to summon a powerful warrior from across the cosmos, one capable of defending our kingdom. But this…"
They all stared up at Guru, their faces hopeful yet confused.
Guru's breathing was labored, his old heart barely able to keep pace. He could feel the weight of time pressing down on him—more than ever now. The energy required to bring him here, wherever here was, had only worsened his already fragile condition. His enormous, sagging form filled much of the chamber, his head nearly scraping the ceiling. He tried to adjust himself, but even moving sent waves of exhaustion through his bones.
The young man, clearly a king or noble, took another step closer. His eyes searched Guru's face for some sign of recognition, some indication that the being before him could help. "You were summoned to aid us," he said, his voice rising in desperation. "Our kingdom is on the verge of destruction. The Dark Horde approaches—a legion of monsters and demons, unstoppable by our warriors or magic. We need... we need a savior."
Guru's ancient eyes, heavy with age, barely opened. He had been expecting his end, not this. Not another call to battle, not after so many centuries of watching over his people. His heart, though old and fragile, still felt the pull of duty, but his body was too far gone.
"I am... no warrior," Guru rumbled weakly, his voice echoing in the chamber like distant thunder. "My time... has passed."
The king exchanged frantic glances with his advisors. "No, this must be a mistake!" one of the mages hissed. "We summoned the greatest warrior in all existence, and yet we receive... this old creature?"
Another mage, younger and brash, raised his hands, crackling with magic. "Perhaps it hides its true power," he muttered. "Let me test it—"
"Silence!" Guru's voice thundered through the room. The effort it took to speak sent a jolt of pain through his chest, his breath catching in his throat. But even in his weakened state, his presence was commanding. The young mage recoiled, stumbling backward as the magic in his hands fizzled out.
Guru sighed deeply, the weight of his years pressing heavily upon him. "You seek strength..." His voice was slow, deliberate. "But... power alone will not save you."
The king's face fell, his hope draining away. "We need more than words," he whispered. "Our kingdom is falling apart, and you... you were supposed to be our last hope."
Guru's vision began to blur. His body was failing him, faster now. This sudden, unexpected journey to this alien world had sapped what little life force remained in him. The energy around him flickered, and his thoughts began to drift away.
He had come here not by his own will, but through the desires of these strangers. They sought a warrior, but what they had summoned was a dying elder. His wisdom, his strength—they were all fading as the end drew nearer.
He could sense the desperation in their voices, their fear. Perhaps, if he had just a little more time, he could offer them guidance. But time was not a luxury he had.
Guru's body sagged, his eyes growing heavier with each passing second. His breath slowed, and the chamber grew distant. The faces of the humans before him blurred into shadows, their voices a mere whisper in the back of his mind.
"I... I could have... helped..." Guru rasped, his voice trailing off into nothingness.
And then, with one final breath, the Great Elder of Namek—Guru—passed away.
The room fell into silence, the king and his advisors frozen in shock as the towering Namekian's lifeless form slumped over, the faint glow of life fading from his eyes. They had summoned a being of great power and wisdom, only to have him die before them, unable to utter more than a few words.
The king stared in disbelief, his hands trembling. "No... no, this can't be... What have we done?"
But there was no answer, only the stillness of the room, and the cold reality of their failed summoning.
