Beginning
His body twisted unnaturally as it soared above the pavement, time seemingly slowing down in those heart-stopping moments. The sickening crunch of bone against metal filled his ears before he felt himself slam onto the hard ground.
Pain radiated through every inch of his being as he struggled for breath. Warm blood oozed from deep gashes across his face and limbs, painting crimson patterns on the asphalt around him. A guttural scream tore from his throat as agony overwhelmed him.
Liam lay there, barely clinging to life by a fraying thread. Even then, with death's icy fingers reaching out to claim him, he summoned the strength to close his eyes one last time—a silent acceptance of the end that awaited him mere seconds away.
He drifted aimlessly through an endless void, devoid of any light or sound, losing all sense of time and purpose. Seconds blurred into years as the darkness engulfed him.
Suddenly, piercing red eyes materialized before him, their intensity burning through the blackness. A thunderous voice resonated within the emptiness, "Papitto!" it boomed, and a blinding radiance consumed Liam's essence.
His mind reeled as unfamiliar memories crashed against his existing ones like waves on a shore, threatening to overwhelm him. Desperate to make sense of the chaos, he clutched his head in both hands until he could no longer stand. The lush green grass cushioned his fall as he collapsed, a ragged gasp tearing from his lips.
With trembling fingers still pressed to his temples, he stared at his hands in confusion. White combat gloves covered them entirely—a sight alien to him. "I'm... alive," he whispered in disbelief, the words barely escaping past the tightness in his throat.
He scanned the unfamiliar landscape before him with wide eyes before shifting his gaze downward. His form was encased in battle armor that seemed to fit perfectly—a sight that sent a shiver down his spine. Questions flooded his mind: "Am I at MomoCon? Was it all just a dream?" But everything felt too real—the cool metal against his skin, the soft earth beneath him—to be merely imagined.
Memories continued to flood his mind, a torrent of alien experiences that were both vivid and yet somehow disconnected from his own identity. His eyes widened in utter disbelief as the impossible truth dawned on him.
"I'm on Earth…but not my Earth," he whispered, his voice trembling with a mixture of awe and trepidation. He raised his head towards the sky, squinting against the unfamiliar glare of an alien sun. A realization hit him like a physical blow, robbing him of breath: "I'm in Dragon Ball Z… but I'm Vegeta." The words felt foreign on his tongue, yet simultaneously right in a way he couldn't quite explain. A strain of shock was evident on his face as he grappled with this new reality, trying to reconcile it with the life he once knew.
Though he was confused, it seemed his mind had calmed, the memories finding blending, finally making him realize his situation at hand.
He was Vegeta. Prince Vegeta IV of the Saiyan Race.
A chill crept down his spine as the stark realization sank in death was no longer just an abstract concept. In this alien world, it was a very real and imminent threat. The memory of perishing once before, as both Liam and Vegeta, instilled a profound fear deep within him.
It wasn't just a distant possibility; it was a tangible terror that now loomed over him like an ever-present shadow. Every battle, every confrontation held the potential for permanent oblivion, a fate far more daunting than anything he had faced before.
This knowledge left him trembling, his heart pounding in his chest as he grappled with the weight of his mortality in this strange new universe.
"I need to get stronger fast. If I'm correct, the fact that I find myself on Earth means it's after the destruction of Namek," he thought, the weight of that realization settling heavily on his shoulders.
"Shit, I still have knowledge of the show, but I had skipped parts of the Android Saga," Vegeta muttered to himself, frustrated by his incomplete understanding. "At least I read and watched everything else up to Goku, Broly, Gohan and myself sparring in our new forms."
Just as he was about to dwell longer on his predicament, a girly voice cut through the air.
"Ehhhh really???!, Hey guys listen up!"
As the high-pitched voice rang out, Vegeta's keen eyes scanned the gathering before him, instantly locking onto the striking blue-haired figure he knew would one day become his mate.
Bulma stood there, vibrant and full of life, her youthful energy a stark contrast to the woman he remembered from the anime.
A hint of shame crept into Vegeta's thoughts as he recalled his past infatuation with her in fanfiction, particularly the embarrassing erotic tales he'd penned featuring the brilliant inventor during his younger years.
Shaking off those memories, an idea began to form in his mind. With the knowledge of key events yet to come, perhaps he could alter certain outcomes and avoid meeting an untimely demise for a second time. The looming threat of Frieza and King Cold's arrival a year hence was already on his radar; their return spelled certain doom if left unprepared.
Bulma possessed both the intellect and resources to aid in Vegeta's training - improving himself through technology and martial prowess alike could be crucial in overcoming that challenge.
He had time now to forge alliances and gather strength before facing those foes anew. A determined glint entered Vegeta's eye as he considered how this new reality might yet play out differently than it had before...