Whistler/ fated encounter(?)

The silver-gray surface of the moon sat in stillness, unbothered by time or gravity. Mori stood near the edge of a cliff-like formation, gazing down at the distant blue sphere below. Earth—or, as he had once heard it mentioned in passing transmissions, "Whistler." It spun slowly, clouds drifting lazily across the curved horizon, its oceans twinkling under the starlight like scattered sapphires. 

Mori's seals still glowed faintly across his skin, dimming now that his body had stabilized. For the past five days, he had drifted in space, alone with his thoughts. Alone with the guilt. The silence of the moon had offered him brief comfort, its void-like quiet wrapping around him like a cold blanket. But even here, even in the stillness, his mind was loud. 

The memories—screams, energy waves, flames, the way their bodies evaporated in pink light—haunted him. He remembered pleading for them to stop, for them to listen. But they hadn't. And when he lost control, when the pain twisted into rage, the planet paid the price. 

He shook his head. 

"No more," he whispered to himself, stepping to the edge. "No more running." 

And with a burst of quiet pinkish-white light, Mori took off, descending toward Earth. 

The clouds parted as his body pierced through the atmosphere, a thin veil of heat surrounding him as he slowed his descent. He didn't aim for any specific location. He simply followed where the air was thickest with life. Not the kind of energy he'd come to associate with fear or war, but something softer… something warmer. 

He landed lightly in a thick forest. 

Tall trees stretched to the skies, their canopies so dense they dimmed the sunlight below, casting a cool emerald glow over everything. Mori blinked, his wide red-on-black eyes scanning his surroundings. Leaves rustled in the wind. Insects chirped in rhythm. A stream nearby trickled over smooth stones. 

It was… peaceful. 

He walked forward slowly, almost in disbelief. The air was rich, vibrant. Every step he took pressed soft soil underfoot. Small animals darted through the underbrush—some with fur, some with scales, one with long ears and wide eyes that stopped to stare at him before scampering off. 

A smile tugged at his lips. 

So many new things. So many strange creatures and colors. One tree had bark that shimmered in the light. Another bore glowing fruit that pulsed faintly, like it was breathing. 

Mori reached up, plucked one, and held it in his palm. It was warm. 

"Alive…" he murmured. 

He placed it gently back onto the branch. 

Birds sang overhead, and somewhere deeper in the forest, something massive stomped through the trees, but it wasn't coming closer. He was no longer in a lab, no longer drifting in cold space, no longer surrounded by death. 

He was… here. 

A boy with no name other than "Anomaly." A child made of dozens of ancient bloodlines. A weapon born in a cradle of steel. And yet now… now he was walking barefoot through the woods like any other lost soul. 

And for a moment—it felt okay. 

Hours passed. Mori found himself crouching beside a pond, peering down at his reflection. His hair was wilder now, longer. His eyes glowed faintly even in the dimming light. And then there were the seals—strange markings etched into his skin, humming with subdued power. 

He didn't understand them. He didn't even remember forming them. But since their appearance, his energy had dulled—like he had finally turned down the volume on the endless storm inside him. 

"I feel… lighter," he whispered, brushing the seal on his right hand. 

He took a breath. 

Then another. 

And smiled. 

It was real. He could breathe here. 

He wandered deeper into the forest, discovering new things at every turn. A family of deer-like creatures with long, ribboned tails. A tree that sang when touched. A field of flowers that changed color based on emotion—he discovered that when he smiled, they bloomed a golden hue, and when his thoughts darkened, they turned deep violet. 

The planet seemed to welcome him… at least, this part of it. 

He didn't know where humans were, or if they'd even accept him. He didn't even know what humans looked like—he'd only seen shadows and files in the lab. 

But he didn't care. 

Not yet. 

Right now, Earth was introducing itself to him the way it knew best—through its roots, its rivers, and its silence. 

Eventually, night fell. 

Mori found a quiet spot under a tall tree, one whose branches twisted into the stars above. He sat cross-legged, gazing upward. This planet had a sky like no other. It wasn't just the stars—it was the way the clouds glowed faintly from moonlight, the way the crickets sang in tempo, the way wind carried whispers of unseen creatures in the distance. 

He lay down, using his arms as a pillow. 

"I think I like it here," he said to no one in particular. "I think… I could stay." 

But he knew he wouldn't. 

This was just the beginning. 

He still had to understand himself. He still had to atone for what he did. And whether he liked it or not, the universe was watching. Somewhere out there, beings like Whis, Beerus, and the Kais were likely aware of him. He was a ripple in a still pond. A shift in the stars. 

And sooner or later… that shift would become a storm. 

But for tonight, he was just Mori. 

A boy under the stars, marveling at a world he'd never known. 

Far above the planet, the stars twinkled gently. The universe held its breath, the cosmic chessboard slowly rearranging its pieces. 

And in the soft cradle of a forest, the Ultimate Lifeform slept beneath a tree, his seals glowing faintly like ancient runes—silent, locked, and waiting. 

 The wind was light, warm, and filled with unfamiliar scents. Mori stood at the edge of the forest, eyes wide, staring out at the shimmering skyline in the distance. Towering structures reached toward the heavens like metal trees, some glowing, some humming with energy. Roads curved and twisted, filled with moving vehicles that zoomed past like streaks of light. For the first time in his life, Mori had reached something entirely unknown: civilization. 

He took a step forward, hesitant but curious. 

"Is this… Whistler?" he murmured, referring to Earth by the name he'd given it from space. 

With each step closer to West City, the ground beneath his bare feet turned from soft grass to hard pavement. The air became heavier with sound—buzzing machines, conversations, laughter, sirens. It was unlike anything Mori had ever heard. And he loved it. 

His nervousness melted into fascination. 

The city greeted him not with hostility, but with life. People walked in every direction, crossing wide roads and stepping into large glass buildings. Bright signs with moving images danced above shops. Music leaked out from speakers, mixing with the sounds of chatter and machinery. 

Mori wandered through the city streets, his head tilted back in awe. His golden eyes sparkled at the flying vehicles overhead and the vendors yelling about capsule deals or sweet bean treats. A little dog in a vest barked at him and ran away. He giggled. 

"There's so much... everywhere," he whispered. 

No one really paid attention to him at first—just another kid wandering around. His simple clothes were odd, sure, and his hair a bit wild, but West City was known for its eclectic residents. If anything, he fit right in. 

He found a vendor stand with spinning lights and strange tubes filled with fizzing drinks. Mori touched one, and it fizzed even more violently, making him jump back in surprise. The vendor gave him a curious look, but Mori just smiled awkwardly and wandered on. 

He passed a group of children playing with handheld machines, laughing and bumping into each other. Mori stopped, watching them from behind a tall bench. Their laughter was contagious. One of the boys noticed Mori and waved. Mori raised a hand back, unsure what to do. 

It was warmth. It was new. It was normal. 

Something inside him relaxed for the first time in months. 

But just as quickly as the wonder settled in, something else tugged at him—a feeling, distant and faint, like a whisper in the back of his mind. It was caution. A quiet fear that the peace wouldn't last. That something about him would ruin it. 

He shook it off and pressed forward. He walked along a long path that led to what looked like a garden park nestled between two tall buildings. There were fountains and colorful flowers he'd never seen before. Birds chirped overhead. A squirrel ran across his path and Mori grinned. 

He reached out, and the little animal, oddly enough, approached him without fear. It crawled onto his arm and sniffed him. 

"Hi there," Mori whispered. "You're not scared of me?" 

The squirrel chittered, almost like a giggle, then hopped off and vanished into the trees. 

Mori's heart swelled. 

He wasn't sure how long he wandered, but eventually, the light began to shift. The sun moved lower in the sky, casting golden hues across the city. Mori stood beneath a massive glass tower, staring at his reflection in one of the windows. He saw a boy—tired but curious. A little messy. A little strange. But alive. 

Then, he turned the corner… and bumped into someone. 

Literally. 

"Oof! Oh, my apologies!" came a voice, smooth and gentle. 

Mori stumbled back and blinked. 

Standing before him was an older man, probably well past his sixties, with soft blue hair that reached his shoulders and a small pair of glasses resting on his nose. Draped over his shoulder, perched as if it owned the man, was a small, black cat with piercing yellow eyes. 

The man chuckled, brushing off his white lab coat. "Didn't see you there, son. Are you alright?" 

Mori looked up, a bit stunned. He opened his mouth but no words came out at first. The cat stared at him with unusual interest. 

"I… I'm okay," Mori finally said. 

The older man smiled kindly. "Well, you've got good balance. Not many kids can run into me and stay on their feet." He adjusted his glasses and tilted his head, examining the boy. "You're not from around here, are you?" 

Mori shook his head slowly. "No… I just got here." 

"Ah, I see." The man crouched slightly, getting on Mori's level. "Name's Dr. Briefs. And this little guy," he nodded at the cat, "is Scratch." 

Scratch gave a soft meow and continued to stare. 

Mori blinked. "Dr… Briefs?" 

"That's right," the man chuckled. "You look like you've had quite the journey." 

Mori hesitated. "...Yeah." 

Dr. Briefs stood up again, stretching slightly. "Well, if you're lost or need a place to rest those feet, Capsule Corp isn't far. And my daughter makes a mean grilled cheese." 

Mori didn't understand what a grilled cheese was, but his stomach growled at the mention. 

The doctor smiled wider. "I'll take that as a yes." 

And so, as the stars began to peek into the sky above West City, Mori took his first steps toward Capsule Corp, walking beside a scientist with a mysterious gleam in his eye and a cat that still hadn't blinked once. 

 The soft click of polished shoes and bare feet echoed lightly across the bustling streets of West City as the blue-haired scientist and the otherworldly boy made their way through the glowing evening. Dr. Briefs strolled leisurely, hands in his coat pockets, while the little black cat on his shoulder flicked its tail lazily. Mori, eyes wide and darting, couldn't stop spinning around to take everything in. 

"Is all of this... normal?" Mori asked, tilting his head at a towering screen that played what looked like a man dancing with noodles. 

Dr. Briefs chuckled. "Well, for West City? Yes. We're a quirky bunch. You'll get used to it." 

Mori nodded, though his gaze remained fixed on the screen. "What was that long creature he was eating?" 

"Oh, that's ramen. Popular dish around here. You'll like it, I think. Big fan of noodles myself." 

They passed a row of shops with blinking signs, one of which displayed a pair of sneakers bouncing on their own. 

"Are those shoes alive!?" Mori gasped, pointing. 

"Haha, no, no," Dr. Briefs replied with a grin. "Just a bit of tech showing off. Everything's powered by capsule technology here. Makes life easier." 

Mori raised a brow. "What is... Capsule Corp, exactly?" 

Dr. Briefs' expression brightened. "Well, you're in for a treat, kid. Capsule Corporation is the future of modern convenience. We're known for turning the biggest things into the smallest capsules. Houses, vehicles, labs, even whole gardens—just pop and they're ready to go! I started the company years ago in my garage with just a soldering iron and a few too many cats underfoot." 

Mori's eyes lit up. "You make all that?" 

"I invent, mostly. The company makes. My daughter's even smarter than I am when it comes to application. She's got a mind like a rocket." He glanced at Mori with a gentle smile. "You'll meet her soon." 

The two turned onto a winding path flanked by trees and flowers that Mori had never seen before. He bent down to examine one with petals that glowed faintly. 

Dr. Briefs paused, amused. "That one's genetically modified to absorb sunlight and give off a faint bioluminescence at night. I think the gardener went a little overboard." 

Mori stood up with a grin. "I like it." 

They came to a large gate, which parted with a soft hiss, revealing the sprawling estate of Capsule Corp. A glistening dome structure loomed in the center, flanked by smaller outbuildings and gardens. Robots buzzed quietly along their programmed routes, trimming hedges and delivering packages. 

As they stepped through the entrance, the scent of something delicious met them. 

"Mmm, smells like dinner's ready," Dr. Briefs said. 

Inside, the living area was warm and open, with cozy furniture and family photos on the walls. From the kitchen, a woman with soft features and curled teal hair emerged wearing an apron. She paused when she saw Mori. 

"Dear, you didn't mention we were having company," she said, blinking. 

"Ah, yes, well… he sort of found me," Dr. Briefs replied. "This is Mori. Fascinating boy. I think you'll like him." 

Mori offered a polite bow. "Nice to meet you." 

She smiled. "Well, dinner's almost done. You're welcome to join us." 

The table was quickly set, and dinner passed with light chatter and gentle laughter. Mori took to the food instantly, his excitement returning with every bite. His senses danced—each flavor was new and strange, but comforting. 

Halfway through the meal, Mori glanced up at Dr. Briefs. 

"You mentioned a daughter?" 

"Oh, yes. Bulma. She's probably in her room studying. She has school in the morning, and if I know her, she's already planning something unnecessarily brilliant." 

Mori smiled. "She sounds smart." 

Dr. Briefs chuckled. "Too smart for her own good sometimes." 

After dinner, the two stepped out into the backyard beneath the starry sky. The black cat remained curled up inside, purring softly on a pillow near the window. 

Mori stood at the edge of the lawn, staring up at the stars. Dr. Briefs joined him, folding his arms behind his back. 

"So," he began, "you've got a strong energy. Not the same as a normal fighter. Not even close." 

Mori looked down. "I… don't know how to describe it." 

Dr. Briefs looked at him thoughtfully. "Where are your parents?" 

There was a long pause before Mori answered. 

"I don't have any." 

The old man's brow furrowed slightly. 

"I was created… not born. In a lab. A group of scientists raised me. They said I was made with the genes of the strongest races in the universe." 

Dr. Briefs raised a brow, intrigued. "Go on." 

"They called them… Saiyan, Namekian, Frost Demon, and a few others. But one of them—the last one—is different. I don't talk about that one." 

Dr. Briefs nodded slowly. "Understandable." 

"I didn't know what I was. But as I got older, I started to feel… unstable. My ki reacts to my emotions. I had a dream one night. A bad one. I lost control. My ki exploded. When I woke up… they were gone. All of them." 

Dr. Briefs didn't speak. He let the silence hang. 

Mori stared at the grass beneath his feet. "I didn't mean to. I was just scared." 

Dr. Briefs placed a hand on Mori's shoulder. "You're not the first gifted soul to carry a burden like that." 

Mori looked up, his eyes dim. 

"I came here. I didn't know where else to go. I just… wanted to start over." 

Dr. Briefs smiled gently. "Well, you found the right planet. Earth has a strange habit of accepting all kinds." 

The night air carried a soft breeze. 

"Your energy," Dr. Briefs said, "is calm now. Why is that? Shouldn't it be reacting to how you feel?" 

Mori glanced at his hands, then slowly pulled back the sleeves of his tunic. Glowing marks shimmered on his skin—faint, but still pulsing softly. 

"I… made these. I don't know how. One day, I just wished it would stop. That the power would go away. Then the marks appeared. Seals." 

Dr. Briefs examined them closely. "Fascinating… and you did this unknowingly?" 

Mori nodded. "Each one feels different. I think… they represent different pieces of me." 

"Do you know how they work?" 

"No," Mori admitted. "Only that… ever since they appeared, I haven't lost control. Not once." 

Dr. Briefs was silent for a while, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "So these races… you said Saiyan, Namekian, and… Frost Demon?" 

"Yes. Saiyans are warriors who get stronger after every battle. Namekians can regenerate and use magic. Frost Demons are… cold and calculating. Powerful. They can manipulate energy into terrifying forms." 

"And the others?" 

Mori paused. "I'd rather not talk about the last one. Not yet." 

Dr. Briefs respected the change in tone and nodded. "Alright. But I'm glad you're here, Mori. And I want you to know… if you ever need a place to stay, or someone to talk to, Capsule Corp's doors are open." 

Mori looked down, a strange warmth in his chest. It wasn't something he recognized right away. But after a moment, he realized what it was. 

Gratitude. 

"Thank you, Dr. Briefs." 

The old man smiled. "Call me Doc."