Broly

The journey to Vampa passes in a blur of preparation and training.

With the coordinates secured from Commander Appula, our ship cuts through the void of space with purpose, each passing hour bringing us closer to a potential ally - or threat.

"What do you think he'll be like?" Goten asks, his small face pressed against the viewport as the barren planet grows larger in our field of vision. "This other Saiyan?"

I consider the question carefully. While I know exactly what to expect based on my knowledge from my previous life, I maintain the cover story I've established.

"Based on the old records I discovered," I reply, "he's likely extremely powerful. Perhaps the most naturally gifted Saiyan ever born.

But also isolated, having spent most of his life on this desolate world with only his father for company."

"How old do you think he is?" Trunks asks, calculating in his head. "If he was sent away as a baby..."

"Based on the records, he would be in his early thirties now," I explain. "Sent away just a few years before Planet Vegeta's destruction."

"Will he want to fight us?" Goten asks, excitement evident in his voice.

"That depends on how we approach him," I reply, bringing the ship into a controlled descent through Vampa's thin atmosphere. "His father, Paragus, will likely be suspicious of any visitors. We need to proceed with caution."

The landscape that greets us as we break through the cloud layer is harsh and unforgiving - barren terrain stretching to the horizon, punctuated by strange rock formations and vast chasms.

The perfect prison for a Saiyan exile.

"This place looks awful," Goten observes with childlike bluntness. "Why would anyone stay here?"

"They may not have had a choice," I explain, scanning the surface for signs of life as our ship continues its descent.

"If my information is correct, they've been stranded here for decades. Their ship was likely damaged beyond repair."

As the ship settles onto the rocky surface with barely a tremor, I turn to the boys with a serious expression.

"I want you both to remain on the ship," I instruct firmly. "This encounter could be unpredictable, and I need to focus on diplomacy without worrying about your safety."

"But we want to meet him too!" Trunks protests. "We've come all this way!"

"You'll meet him soon enough," I assure them. "But first contact needs to be handled carefully. These Saiyans have been isolated for decades - they could be volatile."

"What if you need help?" Goten asks, concern evident in his voice.

I smile confidently. "I'll be fine. Remember who you're talking to. But if there's trouble, you'll know it - and then you can come out, but only if absolutely necessary. Understand?"

Both boys reluctantly agree, though their disappointed expressions make it clear they're not happy about being sidelined.

"Monitor the ship's sensors," I instruct as I move toward the exit hatch. "And stay in communication range. I'll keep my comlink active so you can hear what's happening."

As the hatch opens, the harsh environment of Vampa assaults my senses immediately - thin, acrid air that burns slightly in the lungs, oppressive gravity that would crush an ordinary human, and a howling wind that carries particles of sharp dust.

I step onto the planet's surface, my senses alert for any sign of danger. My tail remains wrapped securely around my waist, a natural Saiyan posture that feels instinctive in this tense situation.

I don't have to wait long.

A figure emerges from behind a rocky outcropping, moving with surprising speed despite his apparent age.

Gray-haired and bearded, wearing tattered armor that might once have belonged to Frieza's forces, his eyes burn with an intensity born of decades of isolation and desperation.

"A visitor!" he calls out, his voice hoarse as if unused to speaking aloud. "After all these years!"

Behind him, a much larger figure appears - tall and powerfully built - he's around a foot shorter than me with wild black hair and a fur pelt wrapped around his waist.

His expression is wary but curious as he studies me and the ship.

Broly.

"Are you from Frieza's forces?" the older man demands, approaching without hesitation - too desperate to be afraid. "Has he finally remembered his loyal soldier Paragus?"

I step forward, keeping my power level deliberately suppressed to appear non-threatening. "I'm not with Frieza. My name is Vegito. I've come from a planet called Earth."

Paragus's face falls momentarily before his expression hardens with determination. "Earth? I've never heard of it. But you have a ship - a way off this cursed planet!"

"Father," the larger man - Broly - says quietly, his deep voice carrying a note of caution.

"Be quiet, Broly," Paragus snaps without looking back at his son. His attention remains fixed on me - or more specifically, on my ship. "Thirty-four years we've been stranded here. Thirty-four years waiting for rescue!"

To demonstrate my heritage, I unfurl my tail from around my waist, letting it sway freely behind me.

Broly's eyes widen at the sight, his own tail twitching in response - an instinctive recognition of his own kind.

It seems it hasn't been permanently cut off yet. Good.

"You're a Saiyan?" Paragus asks, genuine shock breaking through his desperate focus on escape. "But how? Where did you come from?"

"As I said, I'm from Earth now," I reply calmly. "Though our race originated on Planet Vegeta."

"Planet Vegeta," Paragus repeats, a complex mixture of emotions crossing his weathered face. "What news of it? Has King Vegeta been overthrown? Has justice been served for what he did to my son?"

I weigh how much to reveal at once. "Planet Vegeta was destroyed decades ago," I explain carefully. "Destroyed by Frieza, who feared the Saiyan race might one day challenge him."

The news hits Paragus like a physical blow. He staggers slightly, his expression cycling through disbelief, shock, and finally a hollow acceptance.

"Destroyed?" he whispers. "All of it? Everyone?"

"A handful survived," I tell him. "Including Prince Vegeta himself and another Saiyan named Kakarot."

Paragus seems to barely register this information, his mind still grappling with the destruction of his homeworld. Then suddenly, one detail breaks through his shock.

"The prince lives?" His voice takes on a dangerous edge. "The son of the king who condemned my boy to this hell... he lives?"

I recognize the dangerous turn in his thoughts immediately. "Yes, Prince Vegeta survived. But he bears no responsibility for his father's actions. He was merely a child himself when you and Broly were exiled."

"A child of royal blood," Paragus snarls, his decades of hatred bubbling to the surface. "The legacy of the king who sentenced us to this torment!"

I can see his hand moving subtly toward what appears to be a remote control at his waist. My eyes narrow as I notice for the first time the device attached to Broly's neck - some kind of control collar.

"I didn't come here to discuss old grievances," I state firmly. "I came to offer you both a chance to leave this place. To join me in building something new among the stars."

But Paragus is beyond reason now, decades of nursed vengeance overwhelming his judgment. "Broly!" he commands sharply, pressing the device at his waist.

"Kill him! Kill this ally of the royal family!"

The collar around Broly's neck pulses with energy, and the large Saiyan's expression shifts from curiosity to pain, then to blank rage.

His power level spikes dramatically as he roars, the sound echoing across the barren landscape.

I have mere seconds to act. I know exactly what Broly is capable of - how his power grows exponentially as he fights, how he adapts to his opponent's techniques.

In my previous life, I'd seen how even Gogeta Blue had to be serious against a fully unleashed Broly.

I can't allow him to reach that state.

With no time for hesitation, I transform directly into Super Saiyan. Golden light erupts from my being, my hair turning gold as my power explodes outward in a dazzling display that momentarily illuminates the entire landscape.

Paragus staggers backward in shock, his eyes wide with disbelief at the transformation. "What - what are you?!"

Broly charges forward with tremendous speed, but in my Super Saiyan form, his movements appear almost sluggish - I reckon that currently with my Potential Unlocked we are equal in base.

I sidestep his initial attack effortlessly, then deliver a precisely calculated strike to the back of his neck - just enough force to render him unconscious without causing permanent harm.

The large Saiyan collapses immediately, his power level plummeting as he falls unconscious to the rocky ground.

Paragus stares in horror, the remote control falling from his trembling fingers. "Impossible... No one has ever... Broly has never..."

I move toward him with deliberate calm, my form towering over his weathered frame. "I could have killed him - or you - but that's not why I came here. I came to offer salvation, not destruction."

"What... what are you?" Paragus repeats, backing away until a rock formation prevents further retreat.

I power down to my base form, a gesture of restraint rather than necessity. "I am Vegito, as I said. A Saiyan warrior of a different kind.

And I've come to offer you both a place in my new empire - the Paradis Empire."

Paragus glances at his unconscious son, then back to me, calculation replacing fear in his eyes. "Why would you want us?"

"Because despite everything, you and Broly have survived in impossible circumstances," I explain.

"That kind of resilience is valuable. And Broly's potential, properly channeled, could be extraordinary."

I step closer, my voice hardening slightly. "But understand this - your vendetta against the Vegeta royal line ends now.

King Vegeta is long dead, his planet destroyed, his legacy reduced to ashes. His son, Prince Vegeta, was a child when you were exiled. He bears no responsibility for your suffering."

"You expect me to simply forget-" Paragus begins angrily.

"I expect you to be rational," I interrupt firmly. "What would vengeance against Prince Vegeta accomplish now? Would it undo your decades on Vampa?

Would it restore your lost years? Or would it simply add more senseless destruction to a universe that has already seen too much?"

Paragus falls silent, his expression conflicted.

I press my advantage. "Consider your options logically, Paragus.

Option one: you persist in your vendetta. You somehow defeat me - highly unlikely, as you've just witnessed - and eventually confront Prince Vegeta.

Best case scenario, you succeed in killing him. Then what? You're a fugitive on an alien world, hunted by Earth's defenders, with nowhere to go."

I gesture toward Broly's unconscious form. "And what of your son? Is that the future you want for him? More violence, more hatred, more isolation?"

Paragus's gaze shifts to Broly, something softening in his weathered features.

"Option two," I continue. "You join my empire. You both receive proper training, comfortable accommodations, respect for your abilities.

Broly learns to control his power without that barbaric collar. You help build something lasting, something meaningful. A legacy beyond vengeance."

"And the prince?" Paragus asks, his voice lower now. "He lives on this Earth you mentioned?"

"He does," I confirm. "With his family. He's found peace there, built a new life.

He's not the son of the king you knew - he's become his own man, forged through hardship and growth."

I step closer, my voice sincere. "Paragus, you've spent thirty-four years imprisoned by your hatred. Isn't it time to be free of that burden? To give Broly the chance at a life beyond isolation and control?"

The older Saiyan looks down at the remote control lying in the dust, then at his son. For perhaps the first time in decades, he seems to truly see Broly not as a weapon of vengeance, but as his child.

"He's never known anything but this hell," Paragus says quietly. "Never had a real life."

"He could have that now," I offer. "Both of you could."

Paragus is silent for a long moment, internal conflict evident in his expression. Finally, he looks up, decades of hardened resolve cracking slightly.

"What exactly would this... empire of yours entail?" he asks cautiously.

I explain the vision of the Paradis Empire - a system built on cooperation rather than exploitation, on mutual benefit rather than fear.

As I speak, I can see Paragus's calculating mind assessing the opportunities, weighing them against his long-held desire for revenge.

"You would have positions of respect," I conclude. "Broly would receive proper training to control his abilities. No more collar, no more suppression - genuine mastery."

Broly stirs slightly, beginning to regain consciousness. Paragus glances at him anxiously.

"When he wakes," I assure him, "I'll explain everything calmly. He seems capable of reason when not being controlled or enraged."

"He is," Paragus acknowledges reluctantly. "More than I've perhaps allowed him to show."

As Broly fully regains consciousness, sitting up with a confused expression, I approach him carefully. "I apologize for having to render you unconscious," I tell him directly.

"Your father ordered you to attack me, and I needed to prevent that conflict."

Broly looks to Paragus questioningly, his hand moving to the collar around his neck.

"The collar comes off permanently if you choose to join us," I state firmly. "That's non-negotiable."

To my surprise, Paragus himself moves forward and deactivates the device, removing it from his son's neck.

"It's time for a change, Broly," he says, his voice rough with emotion he seems unused to expressing. "This man... Vegito... he's offering us a way off Vampa. A new start."

The large Saiyan reaches up in wonder to touch the bare skin where the device has rested for most of his life, his expression a mixture of confusion and tentative hope.

"How does it feel to be without the collar?" I ask him directly.

He considers the question carefully, as if no one has ever asked about his feelings before. "Lighter," he says finally. "Like... breathing easier."

"Good," I nod approvingly. "That's how it should feel to be free."

I explain to Broly, in simple terms he can understand, the offer I've made - a place in my empire, proper training, a life beyond Vampa.

As I speak, I can see genuine hope dawning in his eyes, perhaps for the first time.

"We... leave Vampa?" he asks, as if afraid to believe it possible.

"Immediately," I confirm. "My ship is ready whenever you are."

With surprising haste, Paragus urges us to depart, his fear that I might change my mind evident in every gesture. "We have nothing worth taking from this place," he insists. "Let us leave immediately."

As we board the ship, I activate my comlink. "Boys, we have guests. Two Saiyan survivors who'll be joining us. Be on your best behavior."

Goten and Trunks are waiting in the main cabin, barely containing their excitement at meeting new Saiyans.

Their enthusiasm seems to momentarily overwhelm Broly, who hangs back slightly behind his father.

"This is Broly and Paragus," I introduce them. "They've been stranded on Vampa for over forty years. Broly, Paragus, these are Goten and Trunks - half-Saiyan children from Earth."

"Half-Saiyan?" Paragus questions, studying the boys with newfound interest.

"Their mothers are human," I explain. "The dominant species on Earth."

"Human?" Broly repeats the unfamiliar word, his brow furrowing.

"You'll meet humans soon enough," I assure him. "They're generally smaller than us, without tails, and physically weaker, but intelligent and adaptable."

As I prepare the ship for departure, inputting the coordinates for our return journey to Earth, the boys immediately take it upon themselves to show Broly around, excitedly pointing out features that must seem miraculous to someone who has spent his life in primitive conditions.

"Leaving Vampa's atmosphere now," I announce as the ship rises smoothly through the thin air. "Artificial gravity and life support systems functioning normally."

Through the viewport, we watch as the desolate planet grows smaller beneath us.

Broly stares at the receding world with an unreadable expression - the only home he's ever known, however harsh, disappearing from view.

"You won't miss it," Trunks assures him confidently. "Earth is way better. There's oceans and forests and cities and all kinds of food."

"And people," Goten adds. "Lots of different people who can be your friends."

Broly seems overwhelmed by these concepts, but not fearful. There's a cautious optimism in his expression that I find encouraging.

Paragus, meanwhile, has been examining every detail of our ship with the intensity of a man who has spent decades dreaming of escape.

His questions about our technology, about Earth, about the current state of the universe come in a relentless stream, as if he's trying to absorb near on forty years of missed information in a single conversation.

"And Prince Vegeta - he truly lives on this Earth now?" he asks, his tone carefully neutral where before there had been venom.

"He does," I confirm. "With his family. He's found peace there, built a new life."

"Family," Paragus repeats, something almost wistful in his voice. "I suppose much has changed in these years."

"More than you can imagine," I tell him. "The universe is a very different place now. Frieza is gone.

The Saiyan race is all but extinct. Old grudges seem... insignificant against the vastness of what's been lost."

He nods slowly, a man coming to terms with the fact that the world he'd hoped to return to - even for vengeance - no longer exists.

"Perhaps you're right," he acknowledges reluctantly. "Perhaps it is time to build something new rather than dwell on what can't be changed."

It's a small concession, but a significant one from a man who has nursed his hatred for four decades.

I make a mental note to watch him carefully once we reach Earth, but I sense genuine resignation in his tone.

As our journey continues, I observe something remarkable - Broly's interactions with the boys.

Without his father's hovering presence and the threat of the collar, he begins to display a personality that has likely been suppressed for decades - thoughtful, observant, with an unexpected gentleness that contrasts sharply with his imposing physical presence.

The boys show him a board game, patiently explaining the rules while demonstrating moves.

Broly watches with intense concentration, his massive hands carefully moving the small pieces with surprising delicacy.

"Vegito!" Goten calls out when he notices me. "Broly's really good at this game! He beat Trunks twice already!"

"It was beginner's luck," Trunks insists, though his expression suggests genuine surprise at being outmaneuvered.

"Not luck," Broly says quietly. "I watched. Learned the patterns."

I observe them for a moment, struck by how natural their interaction seems despite the vast differences in their backgrounds and experiences. "Strategic thinking," I note approvingly.

"An important skill both in games and in life."

Broly looks up at me, a hint of pride in his expression at the praise - perhaps the first positive reinforcement he's received for something other than combat ability.

By the time the ship's cycle shifts to evening and the boys reluctantly head to their quarters for rest, Broly seems almost transformed - still reserved, but with a new openness in his expression.

"They are... good," he says as we clean up the game pieces. "The small ones. Kind."

"Children often are," I reply. "They accept others without the prejudices adults develop. To them, you're simply a new friend, not a weapon or a threat."

He considers this, carefully placing the game box on a shelf. "I... don't have friends anymore... Not since Baa."

"You'll have many opportunities to make friends on Earth," I tell him. "Though you may find the adjustment challenging at first.

Large groups of people, new environments, different social expectations - it will be a significant change from Vampa."

"You will help?" he asks, and the simple trust in the question catches me off guard.

"Yes," I promise. "I'll help you adjust. And so will Goten and Trunks, I suspect. They've already adopted you as their friend."

A small, hesitant smile forms on his face - perhaps the first genuine smile of his adult life. "Thank you," he says, the words carrying a depth of sincerity that transcends their simplicity.

As Broly and the boys settle in their respective quarters for the night, Paragus approaches me in the ship's observation lounge.

He stands at a respectful distance, his weathered face illuminated by the starlight streaming through the viewport.

"That power you displayed on Vampa," he begins, his voice low and cautious. "The golden light... I've never seen anything like it."

I turn to face him, noting the mixture of fear and curiosity in his eyes. "It's called Super Saiyan," I reply simply.

Paragus draws in a sharp breath, his eyes widening. "Super Saiyan? But that's... that's just a legend. A myth told to Saiyan children."

"The legend is real," I confirm. "As you witnessed firsthand."

He takes an involuntary step backward, his expression shifting from curiosity to something approaching reverence and fear. "Then you are... you are the legendary Super Saiyan? The warrior of prophecy?"

There's a tremor in his voice now, and I can see his hands shaking slightly.

To a Saiyan of his generation, raised on tales of the mythical Super Saiyan, my existence represents something almost divine - and terrifying.

"I am a Super Saiyan," I clarify carefully.

"Not the only one. Prince Vegeta has achieved this form as well, as has Kakarot - the Saiyan I mentioned earlier. In fact, he was the first one to achieve it in millennia. Even the boys can transform."

"Impossible," Paragus whispers, clearly struggling to reconcile this information with his understanding of Saiyan mythology.

"The legends speak of a single warrior arising once every thousand years. A being of unmatched power and ruthlessness. The ultimate killing machine."

He studies me with newfound intensity. "But you... you spared my son. You offered mercy instead of destruction.

You speak of building rather than destroying. This contradicts everything I was taught about the Super Saiyan."

I consider how to explain this discrepancy between legend and reality. "The legends aren't entirely false," I tell him.

"The Super Saiyan transformation is indeed triggered by rage - bottomless, consuming rage. It enhances our natural Saiyan aggression and killer instinct to immense proportions."

I create a small sphere of golden energy in my palm, letting it illuminate the space between us.

"In its raw form, the transformation can indeed create the ruthless destroyer of legend. A being of pure destructive power, driven by primal Saiyan instincts."

Paragus watches the golden light with a mixture of awe and trepidation. "Then how...?"

"The difference," I continue, extinguishing the energy ball, "is in the mastery of that power. The Super Saiyan transformation can be tamed, its destructive impulses controlled through discipline and will."

I think of Goku on Namek, his heart pure enough to channel the transformation's power without being consumed by its rage.

And of Vegeta, whose iron will eventually bent the transformation to his purposes through sheer determination.

"One with a pure enough heart can channel the transformation's power without succumbing to its darker impulses," I explain.

"Or through sheer force of will and self-control, the transformation can be mastered over time."

Paragus processes this information slowly, decades of belief being rewritten before my eyes. "And Broly?" he asks finally. "Could he achieve this transformation as well?"

"Almost certainly," I confirm. "His natural power is extraordinary. With proper training and emotional balance, he could potentially become one of the strongest Super Saiyans ever to exist."

Paragus falls silent, his gaze turning to the stars visible through the viewport. After a long moment, he speaks again, his voice barely above a whisper.

"All these years, I've been trying to control his power, to contain it. I believed it was the only way." He turns back to me, his expression haunted.

"But you're saying there's another path. A way to harness that power without suppression."

"Control through understanding, not through fear," I affirm. "It won't be easy. Broly's power is deeply connected to his emotions, perhaps more so than any Saiyan I've encountered.

But with patience and proper guidance, he can learn to master himself rather than being mastered by others."

Paragus's shoulders slump slightly, the weight of decades of mistaken methods settling upon him. "I thought I was preparing him to be a weapon of vengeance," he admits.

"But perhaps... perhaps I was simply afraid of what he might become if I didn't maintain control."

"Fear is a natural response to power we don't understand," I acknowledge, offering neither condemnation nor absolution. "But it rarely leads to wisdom."

"And you..." Paragus looks up at me, studying my features with new understanding. "You're more than just a Super Saiyan, aren't you?

The power you displayed - Every fiber of my being tells me that it is beyond even the legends."

I smile slightly, neither confirming nor denying his assessment. "Let's just say that Super Saiyan is merely the beginning of what a Saiyan can achieve.

There are transformations beyond it that even the ancient legends never imagined."

Paragus shakes his head in wonder. "The universe has changed more than I realized during our exile."

"It has," I agree. "And it will continue to change. The question is whether you and Broly will be part of shaping that change, or merely witnesses to it."

"I'm an old man," Paragus says, suddenly looking every year of his age. "Set in my ways. But Broly... Broly deserves the chance to be more than what I tried to make him."

He meets my gaze with newfound resolve. "Please, teach him what you know. Show him this path to mastery that you speak of."

"I will," I promise. "But he'll need your support as well. Your approval matters to him more than you might realize."

Paragus nods slowly, a complex mixture of emotions crossing his weathered features. "I'll try," he says simply. "For his sake, I'll try."

As he turns to leave, he pauses. "The Super Saiyan of legend was supposed to be our race's greatest champion.

Perhaps in your own way, you are fulfilling that prophecy after all - not through destruction, but through preservation.

Through building something new from the ashes of what was lost."

With that philosophical observation, he departs, leaving me alone with the stars and my thoughts.

Maybe he is right, maybe he is wrong. The legend matters little to me.

Though still, It is interesting to speak with another Saiyan who grew up with the tales of it. I having Vegeta's memories remember the feelings of awe and pure worship he had towards the Super Saiyan.

How he drew pride from it, will, determination - everything he is comes from that tale.

It is his foundation for it is what pushed him through every bit of humiliation and suffering under Frieza's reign, keeping him whole and not broken.

It was what protected his heart in the darkest of days...

Speaking of the heart, I do not look forward to confronting Chichi and Bulma this soon after that conversation.

All I hope is that they don't do anything stupid.

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(Author note: Hello everyone! I hope you all liked the chapter!

Do tell me how you found it.

So, Broly is going to join the gang far earlier than in canon. Let's see what we can do with that.

Also, I hoped you liked Paragus's character. I feel like he geniunely cares for Broly but just was too afraid of him to properly show it.

So yeah, I hope to see you all later,

Bye!)