A/N: Hello, there. Just for the record, THE SAIYANS IN THIS STORY ARE NERFED. They're fundamentally the same, but this is mostly to keep things balanced and fit decently well into the world of Fairy Tail, while also providing meaningful challenges, character development, and so on and so forth. You may want to look elsewhere if you were expecting a 1:1 power scale. Otherwise, thanks for taking the time to read!

Dear Mom and Dad,

I'm not sure where to start. I don't know if this letter will ever reach you, but I need to leave something behind, a piece of myself that says goodbye.

It's been eight years since that day. Eight years since everything changed, and it still feels like it just happened yesterday. I wish I could say I've found the strength to move on, but truth be told, I've mostly just been running—running from the pain, the memories, and the expectations that felt heavier than I could bear. Now, all I feel is just… emptiness.

Every day in this village reminds me of what I've lost. I trained day in and day out, pushing myself to become strong enough to avenge you and our people. I thought that anger and rage would keep me going, but all it did was consume me. It fueled my training, but it never filled the void. I don't want to be just the only Saiyan alive or a living legend; I want to find a place where I do my own thing—where I can finally feel like me. It's hard to live up to a legend when there's no one left to witness it come to life.

I know I've grieved for far too long, so I'm leaving the village today. My heart feels heavy, and there's a quiet kind of numbness that's settled in. I don't know what the future holds, or if I'll ever truly find what I'm looking for. Maybe I'll find a new home, or maybe I'll find a new purpose. What I do know is that I have to try.

I want to live my life in a way that would make you proud. You always saw something in me, something more than just a Saiyan with a powerful legacy. I hope that one day I can tap into that strength you believed in, not just to avenge the past but to create something meaningful in the present.

I'll carry your memories with me wherever I go. Maybe one day, I'll become that legend you saw in me, but only time will tell. Until then, I want you to know that I'll be okay. I'm determined to honor your memory, even if I'm still figuring things out.

Thank you for believing in me, for everything you taught me, and for the love you gave me. I'll make you proud—one way or another.

I love you.

Jin

1: Day of Fate

X776

Under the midday sun, the training grounds buzzed with energy. Young Saiyans sparred, their shouts and the clash of blows filling the air. In the midst of this, a ten-year-old Jin moved with a focused intensity. He had short black hair styled in spiky locks reminiscent of his father, and softer features inherited from his mother. Jin's tail was wrapped around his waist, flicking occasionally as a subconscious response to his intense concentration. Jin was of average height for his age, yet taller than many of his peers. His softer demeanor stood in stark contrast to the hardened faces around him.

"Keep your guard up, Jin!" the instructor barked, his voice cutting through the action.

Jin nodded, his eyes narrowing as he focused on his opponent. The other boy lunged, but Jin sidestepped effortlessly, delivering a swift, controlled strike to his opponent's midsection, sending him tumbling before quickly bouncing back up.

Jin's movements were a blur. His fists and feet struck with precision, each blow calculated and devastating. His opponent struggled to keep up, his defenses crumbling under the relentless assault. With a final, powerful strike, Jin sent his adversary sprawling to the ground, signaling the end of the session.

The training session ended with Jin standing victorious, yet he found no solace in the win. The other young Saiyans watched in awe, some with admiration, others with envy, and a few with a tinge of fear. As they gathered around, Jin received a mix of praise and guarded glances.

"Did you see that? He's incredible!"

"You're amazing, Jin!"

"Yeah, but it's not even fair," another muttered, unable to hide the bitterness in his voice. "He's supposed to be the legend, or whatever, so of course he'd win."

"Imagine the pressure, though. Wouldn't wanna be in his shoes."

Ignoring the praise and the murmurs, Jin wiped the sweat from his brow, breathing heavily but showing no signs of fatigue. The words of admiration barely registered with him anymore, and all he could think about were the expectations he was forced to carry.

"That's enough for today," their instructor announced. "Good work, everyone. Rest up and prepare for tomorrow."

As the other young Saiyans dispersed, Jin took a moment to catch his breath. Despite his victory, the pressure weighed heavily on him. The constant comparisons, the endless training, the isolation from the normal life he yearned for—it was all becoming too much. After the training session, Jin let his tail unfurl, the appendage moving freely and reflecting his current state of mind as he left the training grounds.

The Saiyan village, named Vegeta after their king, was a hidden sanctuary in the remote northern part of Fiore. It was surrounded by a powerful barrier that not only kept it invisible but also shielded it from moonlight, preventing the Saiyans from transforming into what is known as a Great Ape—a terrifying and uncontrollable beast of immense strength for all but the most powerful Saiyans.

The Saiyans prided themselves on their mastery of ki, a form of energy derived directly from one's life force, which granted them a distinct edge over the mages of Fiore. They were aware of magic but chose to rely on their superior control of ki, a source of immense pride for their race. Their advanced technology, from power level scanners to cloaking tech and biotechnology through birthing pods, further set them apart.

The Saiyan hierarchy was clear-cut: strength was everything. From infancy, power levels determined one's place in society. Low-class warriors, middle-class fighters, and the elite—each knew their place that was defined by their potential from birth, while those with extremely low power levels were made unworthy to even think of stepping into a training ground. The king and his son, the prince, were the pinnacle of Saiyan strength and prestige, ruling with an iron fist and an unyielding pride.

He passed by a group of non-fighter Saiyans, their laughter and carefree demeanor a stark contrast to his own rigid existence. They were oblivious to the burden of constant combat and training, and Jin envied them.

Jin's fluctuating power earned him a status that both elevated and isolated him. His performance in training sessions drew admiration from many, but he often felt the burden of expectations more than the honor. Even as an infant, he had been marked as a potential Super Saiyan—a legendary figure said to have appeared five hundred years ago.

According to legend, the Super Saiyan was a kind-hearted warrior who led a rebellion against the Saiyan race's very values. Though ultimately defeated despite his immense power, his legacy endured, and the tale of his prowess was passed down through generations despite many dismissing the Super Saiyan as mere myth.

"Jin, there you are!" a voice called out, snapping him from his thoughts. It was Kael, one of his peers, who approached with a grin. "You did pretty good today, man. You're really living up to the legend, huh?"

"I… I guess," Jin replied softly, managing a faint smile. "Just doing my best."

Kael simply grinned, clapping him on the shoulder. "You're too modest. One day, you'll be the one to lead us, and I know you're gonna do great."

As Kael walked away, Jin's smile faded as he continued his way home, acutely aware of the eyes upon him. Almost every Saiyan he passed recognized him, some offering respectful nods, and others whispering among themselves. He could feel their expectations like a tangible weight on his shoulders. He longed for a sense of normalcy, to be just another face in the crowd and make friends, but his status made that impossible.

His mind drifted back to the legend. The Super Saiyan of five hundred years ago had been different—kind-hearted, like Jin himself. Despite the strength and power expected of him, Jin had always felt a gentle nature within, but the burden of possibly being the next Super Saiyan was too much. He didn't buy into the legend, and the constant speculation only made it worse.

Arriving home, Jin was greeted by his mother, Chard. She was a gentle soul, her features soft and kind. Unlike most Saiyans, she had a low power level and never became a fighter, a fact that allowed Jin to feel more at ease around her.

His father, Brock, a middle-class warrior, was often away on missions, leaving Jin to fend off the pressures alone. Despite his father's absence, Jin felt comfort in his mother's presence.

"Welcome home," she greeted warmly. "How was training today?"

"Just... the usual," Jin replied, forcing a smile. "But it went well."

Chard's expression softened. She approached and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You're doing great, Jin. Just remember to take care of yourself too, okay?"

Jin nodded, though he felt the familiar pang of pressure even in her words. She cared for him deeply, but the weight of expectations was ever-present.

"I will, Mom. Thanks."

After a quick meal, he retreated to his room, the quiet of his sanctuary offering a brief respite from the demands of his life. Jin's room was plain and minimalist, reflecting his lack of time and interest in personalizing it.

He lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, lost in thought. The legend of the Super Saiyan lingered in his mind once again. Was he truly destined to be that warrior? Did it even matter?

"I'm tired of this; tired of being the one they look up to, the one they think will save them," Jin murmured to the empty room. "I just want to live a normal life. Be like everyone else, make real friends, and not be constantly measured against some legend I never asked for."

His gaze shifted to the small window where the moon's light was blocked by the barrier, a reminder of the power he was supposed to inherit.

"I don't care if I'm the legend or not," he muttered to himself. "Why can't I just be… me?"

Tomorrow would bring another day of training, another day of living up to expectations. But for tonight, he allowed himself a moment of vulnerability, a moment to be just Jin—a young Saiyan with a heavy heart and an uncertain future.

X766

The dimly lit environment of the royal nursery hummed with the faint, rhythmic beeps of numerous machines. Numerous rows of birthing pods lined the room, each containing a tiny Saiyan infant.

The soft, multicolored lights of the pods cast a muted glow, highlighting the solemn faces of the Saiyan scientists who moved among them, tending to the babies and monitoring their vital signs. The air was thick with the importance of their work, each child a potential warrior, a future defender of their race.

At the center of the nursery, on an elevated platform, lay the most promising of the elite infants. The Saiyan hierarchy was clear even among the elites: the lower-class were lined up in rows, while the middle-class occupied the central platform, and at the very top, a single pod housed the infant prince, Vegeta IV.

As the scientists moved about their duties, King Vegeta III entered the nursery, his regal presence commanding immediate attention. He was tall and imposing, with a mane of spiky brown hair, a beard, and a stern, angular face. His traditional Saiyan battle armor bore the Vegeta royal family crest, and a blue and red cape fluttered behind him. Two attendants flanked him, their expressions neutral but respectful.

The scientists rushed to line up and bow before him, their movements a blend of reverence and fear. King Vegeta made his way to the highest platform, his gaze fixed on the pod containing his infant son. His expression softened, if only slightly, as he placed a hand on the glass.

"My son, my pride and joy. You grow stronger each day, and your power level is astonishing. One day, you will rule alongside me, perhaps even surpass me to become something greater. I look forward to watching you grow into a vicious king."

His words were a declaration, a promise, as he gazed at the tiny figure inside. With a flourish of his cape, King Vegeta descended to the middle level, evaluating the other infants with a critical eye. His reactions ranged from mild interest to indifference until he came across an infant he didn't recognize. The sight of this unfamiliar child among the elite class of Saiyan infants made his eyes narrow in suspicion.

"Who is this child?!" King Vegeta demanded. "What is he doing in the same room as my son?!"

Two scientists scrambled to attend to him. One placed a handheld scouter by the pod, scanning the infant's power level, but the reading received an error.

"Y-your Majesty, this is Jin, the child of Lt. Brock—"

"This nursery is reserved for exceptional children destined to become Saiyan elites!" King Vegeta snapped, causing the scientists to flinch. "Not some low-ranking baby taken off the streets! Explain yourselves!"

"O-of course, Your Majesty," One of them replied, his hand shaking as he glanced at the scouter in his hand. "You see, we found that his latent abilities are exceptionally high."

King Vegeta's eyes narrowed. "You dare to suggest that this child has a rating on par with my son?!"

A brief exchange of glances among the scientists confirmed the gravity of their situation.

"W-well, sir… whenever we analyze Jin, his power levels actually... far exceed your son's."

A tense silence followed. King Vegeta's single eye twitch spoke volumes about his feelings.

"What you're saying is impossible! The prince's rating broke every record in Saiyan history! Give me that!"

Snatching the scouter from the scientist's hand, King Vegeta measured Jin's power level himself. His other hand slammed against the pod's glass, startling the infant into crying. The scouter malfunctioned and burst in his hand, leaving King Vegeta clutching his hand in disbelief and anger.

"W-we apologize, Your Majesty," one scientist stammered. "I-it seems the scouter has shorted out. We will get a new one shortly."

The scientists, seeing the king's fury, hurried to fetch another scouter. They measured Jin's power level again, the new device now showing a proper reading.

"It appears there was a malfunction, Your Majesty. Upon further inspection, Jin's current power level is now less than half of his previous readings."

"Even so, ignoring the previous data, his latent abilities are remarkable. He could grow to be an outstanding warrior with training, perhaps even the legendary Super Saiyan."

King Vegeta's eyes widened before narrowing further, the implications of such a statement not lost on him in the slightest as he turned his back to them. His mind raced with the potential threat and the burden of having another child surpass his own son. After a long, tense moment, he made his decision.

"Keep him around and monitor him."

The scientists gasped lightly, glancing among themselves in shock at his decision despite what had just happened earlier.

"M-may we ask why, Your Majesty?"

King Vegeta scoffed. "This child should be proud he is being spared! I have plans for him much later, but he will not stay in the same room as my son."

"O-of course, sir!"

Not wanting to question the King further, the scientists quickly complied with his request, preparing to move Jin's pod to a different part of the nursery. As they did, King Vegeta glanced away and clenched his fists.

"No low-class child surpasses my son. No one."

Jin woke with a sharp breath, the sound of a hand slamming on glass slipping away like smoke. Shaking off the memory, he sat up knowing he had training to attend to, but not without letting out a heavy and resigned sigh as he gazed outside his window.

"It's… just another day."

Jin continued his training for another three days, relentless but reluctant in his pursuit to live up to the supposed legendary Super Saiyan. He woke each morning to the weight of expectation, and today was no different.

His father, Brock, a stern figure with a presence that demanded respect, stood at the foot of his bed with his arms crossed.

"Get up, Jin," Brock said sternly.

Jin obeyed without question, sitting up in bed and rubbing his eyes. Brock was a tall, muscular man with a stern expression and a commanding presence. Unlike with his mother, Jin was tame and obedient around his father, who was more upfront about his expectations and pride in Jin being the potential Super Saiyan.

"I'm meeting with some colleagues for a debrief," Brock continued. "But I'm here to inform you that you'll be having a visitor during your training.

Jin looked up, curiosity piqued. "Who?"

Brock shrugged, a rare show of uncertainty. "I don't know. But whoever it is, make sure you give your best."

Jin nodded, determination flickering in his eyes. "I will, Father."

"I have faith in you, son." Brock placed a firm hand on Jin's shoulder, his grip strong and reassuring. "Remember, you have the potential to be the Super Saiyan. Don't let 'em down."

Jin nodded, though a familiar knot of anxiety tightened in his chest. Once his father had left, Jin sat in silence, wallowing in self-doubt once again.

Later that day, Jin found himself in the training grounds, surrounded by his peers. The air was thick with the sounds of combat—grunts, the clash of fists, and the dull thud of bodies hitting the ground. Jin pushed himself harder, trying to focus, but the nagging doubt always lingered in the back of his mind.

Suddenly, a hush fell over the training grounds. All eyes turned to the entrance as King Vegeta entered the area. Following behind him was his son, Prince Vegeta, his expression a mirror of his father's pride and arrogance.

The young Saiyans quickly lined up, bowing deeply in respect. Jin's heart raced as King Vegeta approached him.

"Rise," King Vegeta commanded, his voice echoing through the silent grounds.

Jin stood, his eyes darting nervously as he complied, feeling the weight of the King's scrutiny. King Vegeta's expression was unreadable, but the intensity of his gaze bore into Jin's very soul.

"You should be honored. My son wishes to challenge you," King Vegeta announced, although carrying a hint of disdain. "He wants to see if you truly are the up-and-coming Super Saiyan."

Prince Vegeta stepped forward, and he was the spitting image of his father. The young Saiyan wore the traditional armor, sans the cape and family crest, his fierce eyes reflecting the same proud arrogance.

"So, you're the one they've been talking about," he challenged. "Show me if you truly have the power to back up those claims."

Jin felt a wave of unimaginable pressure crash over him. All eyes were on him, and now even the rulers of their village were directly challenging him. The King and the Prince weren't just here to test him; they were jealous of his potential, a power that surpassed royalty.

His mind raced with the implications of this duel: winning meant proving his strength but would undoubtedly incur the wrath of the royal family. On the other hand, losing would mean unimaginable shame. Either way, Jin felt trapped.

"Don't you dare back down!" the Prince said, seeing Jin's hesitation. "You stand before a Saiyan elite. A low-class warrior like you should be proud to fight me."

Jin's resolve hardened, his hands balling into fists.

"O-of course, my Prince," he said despite his evident anxiety.

With everyone watching, the instructor commenced the battle. The two young Saiyans clashed with a burst of energy, their blows echoing through the training grounds.

Initially, the fight was evenly matched. Jin's raw power allowed him to match his opponent's. However, the Prince's skill and precision soon became apparent. Each blow from the Prince was tactically efficient, fueled by arrogance and a desire to prove his superiority. Blow after blow, Prince Vegeta pressed his advantage, each strike landing with devastating precision.

Despite the odds, Jin's determination grew. He began to read Prince Vegeta's moves, subconsciously adapting to his tactics. The fight evened out once again, the two young warriors exchanging powerful blows in quick succession. Realizing that Jin was learning and adapting, Prince Vegeta decided to end the fight decisively.

He launched a series of powerful, precise attacks to his head and gut, each strike landing with brutal efficiency. Jin was overwhelmed, struggling to defend himself. With a final, devastating blow, Prince Vegeta struck Jin down with a powerful kick to his chest, leaving him unable to stand and gasping for air.

The young Saiyans and their instructor watched in shock, their murmurs filling the silence that followed. Some were awed by Jin's ability to keep up with the Prince, while others were fearful of the latter's prowess. There was an unexpected sympathy for Jin, who had fought valiantly but ultimately faced a humiliating defeat.

King Vegeta allowed a rare smile, pride swelling in his chest. His son had proven his superiority like he hoped he would all those years ago.

Jin struggled to his knees, his body trembling while Prince Vegeta stood over him with a smirk.

"You have some skill, I'll give you that," he acknowledged. "But it's not nearly enough. If you're to be called a Super Saiyan, you must be more than this. You're weak, unworthy of the title. If anyone is to be deemed a legend, it will be me, not some low-class nobody like you."

Tears streamed down Jin's face as he tried to hold back his sobs. His pride, his self-worth, everything he had worked for felt shattered. The prince's words cut deep, each one a reminder of his own perceived inadequacy.

"You call yourself a Saiyan?" Vegeta sneered. "You hesitate; compassion is a weakness, and you, Jin, you reek of it. A true Saiyan does not falter and fights with everything they have, because your enemies won't show such kindness or mercy."

Jin's heart sank and his body trembled, the weight of his shame and self-doubt utterly consuming him. It was all too much to bear.

"You're no legend," Prince Vegeta spat, turning his back to him. "You're an embarrassment to our race, unworthy of your own power. My father should have disposed of you while you were still in the nursery."

The young Saiyans gasped, murmuring among themselves in shock at the harshness of the Prince's words. Even King Vegeta was taken aback by his son's insults, knowing it was his decision to keep Jin around.

In a moment of sheer desperation, Jin's emotions boiled over. With a cry of frustration, he slammed his fist into the ground, the impact creating a massive crater. The force of the blow sent shockwaves through the training grounds, surprising even the King.

"The fight is already over," the Prince said coldly as he turned back to face Jin. "You of all people should know when to give up."

Jin, driven by a mix of rage and despair, ran towards the Prince, the latter hardening his stance in preparation.

But Jin had other ideas. He ran past the Prince and the King, flying away from the training grounds… and the village.

"You coward!" Prince Vegeta called out in a mix of anger and disbelief. "Get back here and fight me!"

"That's enough," King Vegeta said sternly, raising his hand. "You've said more than enough to that boy. Leave him be."

Sobbing and crying as he flew, Jin tearfully retreated into a patch of forest a decent distance from the village, wishing to isolate himself from everything. The wind rushed past him, doing little to dry the tears streaming down his cheeks. His vision blurred, but he didn't care. He just needed to be away.

He landed heavily on a large, sturdy branch high in a massive tree, the impact shaking leaves loose. Jin began to pace frantically, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. The fight replayed in his mind, each punch and kick a fresh wound to his pride.

"How much more of this can I take?" he whispered to himself, trembling with anguish. "They all saw me. They saw me lose. To the damn Prince of all people. They must think I'm a joke… a failure."

His mind conjured images of his kin, their faces twisted in doubt and disappointment. He imagined their whispers, their scornful looks. He imagined what his parents would feel, especially his father.

Shame and failure loomed over him like a dark cloud. There would be no escaping this, no hiding from what awaited him.

He pounded his fists against the tree trunk in frustration, the bark splintering under his blows.

"Why?! Why me?!" he shouted into the forest, his voice cracking as he sank to his knees. "Why am I a Saiyan?! Why did I have to be born with this… this curse?!"

His fists clenched, and he pounded the branch below him.

"It's not fair!" he shouted, the words echoing through the silent forest. "I never asked for any of this! I never wanted to be a legend!"

He stood and punched the tree with all his might, the force causing a deep crack to form.

"I hate this! I hate them! Why couldn't I just be normal?! A normal person with a normal life! No stupid fighting! No pointless training! No stupid Saiyan pride!"

Jin's shoulders shook with each sob, his breaths coming in uneven gasps. His tears fell freely, splashing onto the branch beneath him.

"If only I were stronger… if only I could have beaten him… maybe then they'd see I'm worth something. Maybe then…"

Exhausted, Jin slumped against the tree trunk, sliding down to sit on the branch. Jin's thoughts spiraled deeper into despair, the idea of returning to the village filled him with dread.

"If I go back... I'll have to face them all and… no. I can't do it. I can't face Father. I just can't…"

He hugged his knees to his chest, the tears flowing freely again. The crushing weight of his perceived failure pressed down on him, and he couldn't stop the sobs from wracking his body.

"I'll never be good enough. They'll never see me as anything but a disappointment." His voice was a whisper now, hoarse from crying. "Why can't I be someone else? Anyone else…"

The forest around him was silent, offering no comfort. He felt utterly alone, lost in his own misery. Jin's thoughts circled back to the inevitable. If he went back, he would have to live with the consequences of losing. The unending shame and scrutiny of his kin. The disappointment in his parents' eyes. He couldn't bear it.

"I can't... I can't do this anymore," he said quietly. "I can't live like this… I just… I just want to be… free."

Jin took a deep, shuddering breath and looked around the forest, its serene beauty offering a stark contrast to the turmoil inside him. He realized he needed to let go, if only for a moment. He needed to escape the suffocating expectations, even if just in his mind. He leaned back against the tree trunk, closing his eyes.

"Maybe... maybe for a little while…" he whispered softly, growing more weary. "I just… need to be alone…"

He focused on his breathing, letting the cool air fill his lungs and then exhaling slowly. The sounds of the forest—leaves rustling, distant bird calls—began to soothe him. His tears gradually stopped, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Jin felt a small measure of peace as he drifted off to sleep.

Evening fell over the village as Chard busied herself in the kitchen, preparing dinner. The comforting aroma of a hearty stew filled the air, but her mind was elsewhere. She couldn't shake the nagging worry that had settled in her chest since earlier that day. Jin still hadn't come home, and the knot in her stomach tightened with each passing minute.

The door creaked open, and Brock stepped inside, wiping sweat from his brow.

"I'm home," he greeted wearily. "Got off early today. Any idea where Jin is? His training should be over by now."

Chard's demeanor darkened, her hands pausing in their work. She turned to face Brock, her eyes reflecting a mix of concern and frustration.

"You haven't heard, have you?"

Brock frowned in confusion. "Heard what? What's going on?"

"Prince Vegeta," Chard began, her voice trembling slightly with suppressed emotion. "He challenged Jin to a duel."

Brock's eyes widened in shock. "The Prince? Why would he—" He cut himself off, shaking his head. "Never mind, it's just… What happened?"

Chard let out a sigh, her shoulders slumping. "Jin lost. The parents of the other younger Saiyans said he ran off after the fight. Prince Vegeta insulted him, told him he wasn't strong enough to be the Super Saiyan, or something along those lines, and he hasn't come back since."

Brock's shock turned to a pang of guilt. "I didn't know… I have to find him. It's getting late."

He moved toward the door, but Chard stepped in front of him.

"Brock, stop and think. How do you think he's feeling right now? Our son just faced the Prince and lost. He's probably devastated."

"I know, but—"

"Do you?" Chard said sharply. "The Prince didn't just beat him. He humiliated him. Jin doesn't need more pressure right now. He's just a boy, Brock. He wants to do more with his life than just fighting."

Brock's demeanor softened, a pained expression crossing his face.

"You're right. Maybe I've been too hard on him. Maybe we all have. But what can we do? We can't just tell everyone to take it easy on him."

Chard's eyes softened, and she placed a hand on his arm.

"We don't need to convince everyone. We just need to start with ourselves. Let's take it easy on him, show him we're here for him. He's bound for great things, but he's still our baby boy."

Brock sighed, nodding slowly. "Okay. Let's give him some time, and we'll make it up to him when he comes back."

A loud reverberation echoed through the village, and Brock's head snapped toward the door.

"What was that?" she asked.

"Stay here," he instructed Chard. He stepped outside, his gaze scanning the horizon as he took to the air.

Flying swiftly to the disturbance, he received a transmission on his scouter.

"Someone's outside the village. We're currently investigating."

"I'm on my way," Brock replied, arriving at the village entrance.

As he neared the source of the commotion, a group of Saiyans had already gathered, their expressions a mix of confusion and alarm. They all stared at a single point where the barrier shimmered, and Brock's eyes widened as he saw the cause.

Standing outside the village was a tall figure with long and wild dark blue hair and blue eyes. He was dark-skinned, and wore nothing except a long high-collared black cloak, with what appeared to be dragon teeth that kept the cloak on, and baggy pants that shared the color of his hair. On his face and arms appeared to be light blue markings.

The Saiyans murmured among themselves as the stranger slowly paced left and right, tension palpable in the air as he curiously eyed the barrier that supposedly kept them hidden.

"Who is that?" one of them whispered. "How did he find us?"

Before they could react, the stranger lifted a hand and delivered a powerful punch to the barrier. It shattered instantly, the cracks cascading above the village and revealing it in its entirety.

Brock and the others momentarily froze in shock before their instincts kicked in.

"Who are you?!" Brock demanded despite the fear gnawing at him. "How did you find our village?!"

The stranger blinked, a mix of curiosity and disdain in his eyes.

"Since when was this all here…?" he wondered aloud. "What the hell…?"

The scouters on the Saiyans' heads beeped rapidly, displaying the stranger's power level. They soon received the result, and they collectively gasped as their scouters received an error.

"That's... that's impossible!" one of them stammered, eyes wide in shock. "The scouters can't measure his power!"

Just then, another figure descended from the sky—King Vegeta. His regal presence commanded immediate attention, and he landed between the stranger and the villagers.

"Who are you, and how did you find this place?!" he demanded. "You are trespassing on Saiyan grounds! Identify yourself immediately!"

Brock stepped forward. "But Your Majesty, his power level is—!"

King Vegeta cut him off with a raised hand. "I can see that, Lt. Brock. We'll deal with him accordingly."

The stranger sighed in annoyance, his patience clearly wearing thin.

"Humans… always popping up where they shouldn't be."

His eyes flashed with a dangerous light as he clenched his fists.

"My name is Acnologia," he declared with an ominous finality. "The last thing you will ever see."

The afternoon sun bathed the quaint town in a warm, golden glow. Jin's excitement was palpable as he dashed to the door, his footsteps echoing through the house.

"I'm going to meet my friends at the park!" he called out, brimming with enthusiasm.

Chard, busy in the kitchen, turned with a warm smile. "Have fun, sweetheart."

Brock, engrossed in a newspaper, looked up briefly. "Take care out there, son."

Outside, Jin hopped onto his bike, his heart light and carefree. The town stretched out before him, a bustling, lively place filled with the hum of everyday life. Buildings stood tall and welcoming, their architecture a blend of old charm and modern design. Streets were lined with small shops and cafes, their doors open wide to greet the afternoon crowd. People strolled leisurely, chatting and laughing, their faces serene and content. There were no signs of Saiyans, no barriers, no fighting—just a serene slice of life.

Jin rode through the town, the wind whipping through his hair, a grin plastered on his face. He passed by a bakery, the smell of fresh bread making his stomach growl.

"Hey, Jin!" a shopkeeper called out, and Jin grinned back.

"Hi, Mr. Malto!" Jin replied, waving back enthusiastically.

Further down the road, Mrs. Anya, the florist, tended to her vibrant display of flowers. "Hello, Jin! Off to meet your friends?"

"Yes, ma'am!" he answered, his heart light with happiness.

Finally, he reached the park, a verdant oasis in the middle of the town. The large tree at the center stood like a guardian, its branches spreading wide to offer shade. Underneath it, a group of children waited, their voices carrying on the gentle breeze. Jin's friends—Kael, Nira, and Lari—were gathered there, their faces lighting up when they saw him.

"Jin! There you are!" Kael called out, his arm waving energetically.

Jin parked his bike at the stand and rushed over to them.

"Hey, guys! Sorry I'm late. I got your message just a bit ago."

Nira grinned. "It's okay, we've just been hanging out. But Kael's got something to show you."

Kael draped an arm around Jin's shoulders, leading him across the park. "Come on, man. There's someone I want you to meet."

Curiosity piqued, Jin followed Kael across the park. As they approached a bench, he saw a girl sitting there with her back turned, her long hair catching the afternoon sunlight. Jin froze, his breath hitching as his eyes were drawn to the vibrant color of her hair.

"Jin, this is—"

Jin took a sharp breath as his eyes fluttered open, the dream abruptly fading away.

"Red..."

The remnants of the dream clung to him as he shook off his sleepiness. Blinking in the darkness, he realized it was night.

"Must have overslept."

As he stood back up and dusted himself off, reality soon crashed down on him as he remembered the events that had led him here. The defeat, the shame, the disappointment. He sighed heavily, the weight of his emotions settling on his shoulders once again.

"Great..." he whispered to himself. "Might as well get it over with."

Before he could ponder further, a distant explosion echoed through the night. His head snapped up, ears straining to pinpoint the source. Without hesitation, he soared into the air, his eyes scanning the horizon. His brow furrowed as he noticed the village, now visible without the barrier.

"Is… is that Vegeta?" Where's the barrier?" he muttered, confusion giving way to dread as he saw smoke rising from the village.

Without a moment's hesitation, Jin surged forward, his heart pounding in his chest.

"No..." he whispered, the urgency driving him faster. His mind raced with thoughts of his family, his friends, his home. "No no no no no no…"

The village of Vegeta lay in ruins, a shattered memory of what it once stood for. Buildings that once towered with pride now lay in crumbled heaps, flames licking the remnants of homes. The royal palace, a symbol of Saiyan strength, was a mere skeleton of its former self. The air was thick with smoke and the scent of charred wood and flesh. Bodies of fallen Saiyans, warriors, and innocents alike, were scattered across the ground, their lives ended by the merciless might of Acnologia.

King and Prince Vegeta stood side by side, locked in a desperate battle against Acnologia. The dragon stood before them, his expression one of casual indifference, not even breaking a sweat since his unintentional entry into the village.

"You may have destroyed our village, but you will not break our pride!" King Vegeta's voice boomed with authority, his eyes burning with determination. "We are Saiyans! We do not know the meaning of surrender!"

Prince Vegeta, equally bruised and resolute, echoed his father's sentiment. "Underestimate us, and you will regret it. Saiyans never surrender!"

Acnologia smirked, his eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. Without a word, he blitzed through King Vegeta, his raised arm slicing through the king's chest with merciless precision. The king crumpled, his last breath escaping in a choked gasp.

"Father!" Prince Vegeta's scream echoed through the ruins. He barely had time to react before Acnologia's hand was around his neck, lifting him off the ground. The prince struggled, his eyes filled with a mix of fury and despair.

"You have the spirit of a warrior," Acnologia mused, his grip tightening. "You're not just humans, are you? Still, it's a shame our paths crossed. Your fate was sealed the moment I found this place."

Prince Vegeta struggled, tears streaming down his face.

"Jin…! Help… me…!"

With a casual flick, Acnologia hurled the prince into the remnants of the palace. The building crumbled, burying the last of the royal line. Dusting his hands, Acnologia glanced around, seeing no further threats. With a bored sigh, he turned and walked away, leaving the once-proud village in smoldering ruins.

High above, Jin froze in midair, his heart pounding in his chest. He had heard his name called out, followed by the sickening sound of a building collapsing. Dread gripped him as he cautiously descended into the village. The sight that met him was worse than any nightmare.

He forced himself to move forward, stepping over fallen comrades, both warriors and innocents, their lifeless eyes staring up at the sky. His stomach churned, but he pushed the nausea down.

"This can't be real," he whispered to himself, his voice barely breaking the silence. "Please, not like this. Not like this."

A flash of light outside the village drew his attention. He looked up, his body freezing in terror as a massive black dragon with blue spiraling markings emerged. With a roar, the dragon took to the skies, disappearing into the distance.

"Please… anyone…" he whispered, grabbing a scouter off a fallen warrior. He activated it, the device scanning for power levels. It beeped incessantly, but each scan came back with nothing.

"No... no... it can't be." He adjusted the scouter, willing it to reveal something—anything. "Come on! Someone's got to be left!"

He moved through the wreckage, scanning each building as he desperately searched for even the faintest flicker of life.

"How could this happen?" he muttered, anguish twisting in his gut. "How could they be so strong, yet…?"

Then, a faint signal pinged on the display. Two readings—weak, flickering, yet unmistakably familiar.

Jin's heart raced as he sprinted towards the source of the signals, leaping over debris and skidding to a halt in front of what was left of their home. His eyes widened as he saw them.

His father lay protectively over his mother. Both were grievously wounded, their bodies battered and bloodied. Brock's protective stance showed he had tried to shield Chard from the worst of the attack, but both had been caught in Acnologia's destructive onslaught.

"Mom! Dad!" Jin cried, rushing to their side and dropping to his knees. Tears streamed down his face as he took in their injuries. "No… no, no, no! Please, please, don't be gone! Don't leave me!"

"Jin…" Brock rasped, his eyes fluttering open. Relief washed over his face, a fragile smile breaking through the pain. "You're safe…"

"Why... Why did I leave?!" Jin choked out, his voice breaking as he grasped their hands, feeling the warmth slipping away. "I should have been here! I should have—"

"We're sorry," Brock interrupted softly. "We failed you, son. We placed too much on you... expected too much."

"Dad, I'm not good enough! I couldn't save you!" Tears streamed down Jin's face, hot and unrelenting. "I ran away! I thought—"

Brock's grip tightened slightly. "I'm glad you ran, Jin. It wouldn't have made a difference. You would have died too."

Chard gently squeezed his hand. "You are more than what we pushed you to be. We are proud of you... for being our son... for being you."

"But I'm not strong enough!" Jin shouted. "I should have been there! I should have protected you!"

Brock's grip tightened on his son's hand, the weight of his body faltering.

"You are strong, Jin. Stronger than you know. But strength isn't everything. We… we should have recognized you as our boy, not just the legend."

Chard smiled weakly, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "You must not forget, Jin. We love you, no matter what. You are our pride and joy."

"Mom, please…" Jin choked, feeling his heart shatter at the sight of their suffering. "I'm so afraid. What do I do now?"

Their time was running out, and Jin could see it.

"Please... don't leave me!" he pleaded. "I need you…!"

Brock took a shuddering breath, his grip on Jin's hand tightening for a moment.

"Listen to me, whether you choose to pursue the legend or live the life you want… it's up to you now. It's your choice… live a life you can be proud of…"

"Jin…" Chard whispered, her breath growing shallow. "We can rest… knowing you will be okay. You are destined for greatness, my baby boy."

"I can't lose you! Not like this!" Jin cried, pulling them closer as if that could stave off the inevitable. "Stay with me! Don't leave!"

Brock's grip loosened, and his eyes closed as he took his final breath. "I love you, Jin. You're… the best thing that has ever happened to us…"

Jin's cries grew louder as he hugged his father's body, his anguish pouring out in uncontrollable sobs.

"No... Father! Please, don't go!" He turned to his mother, desperately holding onto her. "Mama! Please don't leave me…!"

Chard's eyes were filled with love and sorrow as she looked at her son one last time.

"I love you, baby… You're… going to be alright..."

"No! Stay with me! Mama!"

With those final words, her eyes closed, and she was gone.

Jin's grief turned to anguish as he looked at his parents' bodies and the destruction around him. The weight of his failure and the loss of his future crushed him, and he screamed into the night, a howl of sorrow and despair.

Jin's screams of agony echoed through the ruined village, his pain and despair erupting in primal howls. The image of the black dragon, Acnologia, flashed in his mind, and his sorrow turned to rage.

His eyes flickered yellow, and a yellow aura exploded around him in a violent burst of energy. He continued to scream, filled with sorrow, despair, and anger.

Jin was alone. Completely and utterly alone.