Part 1: The Rivalry Begins
The military hospital had a cold, sterile feel, but it was alive with the hum of machines, the soft murmurs of doctors, and the occasional groan of wounded warriors. The air carried the scent of disinfectant and burned flesh, a sign that many patients here were fresh from battle. The walls, once pristine, had cracks and scorch marks—reminders that even a place meant for healing had seen its share of destruction.
Gogeta sat on the hospital bed, his right arm twisted unnaturally, bent at a grotesque angle. His face was tense, his teeth clenched, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He sucked in a breath, his fingers twitching as pain shot through his limb.
“Ahh—damn… this hurts more than getting hit by a star,” he muttered, gripping his broken arm.
Leaning casually against the metal railing of the medical bed stood Mori. Her sharp blue eyes studied him with an intensity that felt like she was measuring him, assessing his worth. She had flowing dark blue hair, long and straight, framing her sharp, noble features. There was something almost regal in the way she held herself—like a warrior born into greatness.
She wasn't just looking at Gogeta; she was analyzing him. His Stardust Move played in her mind, the moment he had nearly defeated Grakk. The raw power. The finesse. But also... his failure.
The hospital doors suddenly slid open with a sharp hiss.
“Wooooow. Hey, buddy,” Dodo grinned as he strolled in, hands in his pockets. His eyes darted to Gogeta’s twisted, battered arm, and he smirked. “Damn, man, you’re actually hurt? This is new.”
Gogeta shot him a glare but said nothing, instead exhaling sharply as he lay back, trying to ignore the throbbing pain.
Dodo stepped closer, extending his closed palm toward Gogeta. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he opened it, revealing tiny golden beans nestled in his hand.
“Eat one,” he said, grinning.
Gogeta narrowed his eyes. “What… are these?”
Before Dodo could answer, Mori straightened up and stepped forward, arms crossed.
“They’re called Oms Beans,” she explained. “They accelerate healing twenty times faster.”
Without hesitation, she plucked one from Dodo’s palm.
“Oi, careful!” Dodo panicked, pulling his hand back. “If I drop these, my dad will kill me!”
Mori ignored him. Instead, she grabbed Gogeta’s uninjured hand, opened his palm, and placed the bean inside.
Gogeta, still exhausted, eyed the tiny bean. Then, with a sigh, he popped it into his mouth.
Immediately, his body jerked. A burning sensation spread through his veins, forcing his muscles to tense up.
Then—
“GAAAAAH—what the hell?!” Gogeta coughed violently, his whole face twisting in disgust. “This tastes… sour as hell!”
Rubbing his mouth with his elbow, he frowned. But then, as the sharp taste faded, his mind suddenly cleared. His vision sharpened. The pain in his arm dulled slightly, and his exhaustion lessened.
Dodo chuckled. “Sooo… did it work?”
Gogeta took a deep breath, testing his fingers. “Feels... a little better.”
Dodo smirked. “Good. That means I’ll fight you when you’re fully healed.”
With a wave, he turned on his heel and strolled toward the exit. The doors hissed open, then shut behind him.
A moment of silence passed.
Mori, who had been observing the whole exchange, finally spoke. “You’re not as great as I thought.”
Gogeta glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
She pointed at him, sharp and direct. “If that had been a real fight, you’d be dead.”
She let her words hang in the air, watching his reaction.
Gogeta sighed, leaning back. “Yeah, yeah, sure. Guess I still have things to learn.”
Mori didn’t let up. “I was trained by the best. My father, Veil, is the strongest warrior in all of Asraioth.”
A flicker of curiosity crossed Gogeta’s face. “And what does that have to do with me?”
Mori smirked. Then, with a fire in her voice, she declared:
“Because you’re my rival. And I’m going to surpass you.”
Gogeta blinked. Then, after a beat, he raised his hand and grinned.
“Alright. Bet.”
He held up his partially healed hand, staring at it in mild surprise. “Guess the bean worked after all.”
Mori crossed her arms. “Of course it did.”
With a confident smile, she turned to leave, tossing a glance over her shoulder.
“Hope you heal up fast. We’ve got a mission tomorrow.”
Tomorrow when gogeta woke up from the hospital.
The Hospital’s Silence
Gogeta spent the next day in the sterile, humming medical bay, the Oms Beans stitching his shattered bones and torn ligaments back together at an unnatural pace. Nurses came and went, their eyes widening each time they checked his progress. By dawn, the doctors—a stern-faced Saiyan with a scarred cheek and a human medic whose glasses kept fogging from the planet’s heat—stood at the foot of his bed, baffled.
“You… shouldn’t be able to move that arm yet,” the Saiyan doctor muttered, prodding Gogeta’s freshly healed bicep. The skin was smooth, no trace of the jagged wound that had split it open hours earlier.
Gogeta flexed his fingers, grinning through the lingering soreness. “Guess I’m just built different.”
The human medic shook his head, scrolling through holographic charts. “Your cells are regenerating at a rate I’ve only seen in… experiments. You were supposed to be here for months.”
“Lucky me,” Gogeta said, hopping off the bed. His body felt lighter, sharper, as if the Oms Beans had scrubbed fatigue from his veins. He stretched, joints popping, and grabbed his tattered armor from a nearby chair. The doctors exchanged uneasy glances but said nothing as he strode out.
The Lava Planet’s Wrath
Outside, the air hit him like a furnace. The planet—a hellscape of jagged obsidian plains and rivers of molten rock—seethed under a blood-red sky. Saiyan warriors limped past him toward the medical tents, their armor scorched, faces streaked with ash and blood. One carried his comrade over his shoulder, the man’s leg severed at the knee, cauterized by what looked like a energy blast. Another clutched a mangled arm to her chest, her eyes hollow with pain. Gogeta’s smirk faded.
This place chews warriors up, he thought, rolling his shoulders as he walked. His boots crunched over blackened stone, heat wafting through the soles. In the distance, plumes of fire geysered from the earth, lighting the haze in brief, violent bursts.
His mind drifted to Mori—her sharp gaze, the way she’d tossed him the Oms Bean like a challenge. He caught himself smiling. She’s… something else. He remembered their fight against Grakk weeks ago, her icy focus as she’d flanked the warlord, her voice cutting through the chaos: “Left flank—now!” They’d moved in sync, a dance of fire and strategy, and for a moment, he’d felt… something. A flicker of respect? Or—
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Chapter 1: The Monster Named Domo – Rewritten Entrance
The Meteor’s Descent
The blood-red sky of Vulkarath was streaked with ash and embers, the air thick with the stench of sulfur. Near the medical tents, Saiyans hobbled on crutches or sat bandaged on jagged rocks, trading stories of battles won and scars earned. A young warrior with a freshly cauterized stump for an arm laughed hoarsely, pointing upward.
“Another damn meteor,” he sneered, nodding at a faint flicker of light piercing the haze. “Third one this week. Patrols ain’t doin’ their job.”
Others glanced up, unimpressed. Meteors were common here—Vulkarath’s gravitational pull dragged debris from neighboring asteroid belts like a starving beast. But as the light grew brighter, a grizzled Saiyan missing an eye squinted.
“That’s… movin’ weird,” he muttered.
The meteor didn’t streak. It pulsed, flickering like a dying star. And it was getting closer. Fast.
“The hell…?”
---
The Impact
CRACK—
The meteor struck the obsidian plains half a mile from the medical tents. The ground quaked, sending warriors tumbling. A shockwave of heat and debris ripped outward, flattening tents and hurling equipment into molten rivers. A cloud of black dust mushroomed into the sky, blotting out the sun.
Silence.
Then—coughing. Cursing.
A middle-class Saiyan with a bandaged chest staggered to his feet, snarling. “Guards! What the hell?! You let that thing through?!”
No one answered. The medical staff—mostly low-tier warriors—cowered behind overturned supply crates.
An old Saiyan, his legs severed at the knees and strapped to a rusted wheelchair, chuckled darkly. “Back in my day, we’d’ve blown that rock to slag before it hit dirt.” He spat a glob of blood. “Kids these days. Soft.”
As the smoke is settling some people notice and point wait thats a person not a meator
All the saiyans are raging and angry
From the dust cloud, footsteps echoed. Slow. Deliberate.
A high-class Saiyan—tall, muscular, his arm freshly healed from a prior battle—shoved through the crowd. His face twisted into a sneer. “Quit your whinin’. I’ll handle this.”
The crowd stirred. Warriors still clutching IV drips or missing limbs hooted weakly.
“Go crush ’em, Vrok!”
“Make ’em regret breathin’!”
Vrok cracked his knuckles, his aura flaring crimson. “Whoever you are—come out and die!”
The footsteps stopped.
The dust began to settle.
Vrok froze.
The figure standing in the crater was not a meteor. Not a machine. Not even a warrior.
It was a nightmare.
Domo stood 10 feet tall, his emaciated frame coiled like a serpent. His skin was corpse-pale, stretched taut over jutting bones, crisscrossed with jagged scars that glistened like fresh wounds. His limbs were grotesquely elongated, fingers ending in claw-like nails blackened with dried blood. His face—oh gods, his face—was a mangled tapestry of stitches and burns, one eye milky white, the other a festering yellow slit. His lips peeled back in a grin, revealing jagged, rusted-metal teeth.
But worse than his appearance was his aura.
It wasn’t energy. It was hunger. A suffocating pressure that seeped into the lungs, the marrow, the soul. Warriors dropped to their knees, vomiting. The old Saiyan in the wheelchair lurched upright, his stumps trembling.
“N-No…” he whispered. “It’s… him.”
---
The Kill
Vrok’s bravado evaporated. His legs shook, urine soaking his armor. “P-Please… I-I didn’t—”
Domo’s head twitched to the side, his neck bones popping. His milky eye rolled toward Vrok.
“Mmm…” he crooned, saliva dripping from his jaw. “Fresh meat.”
He moved.
Not with speed. With wrongness. His arm lashed out like a whip, stretching far beyond natural limits. Vrok screamed as Domo’s clawed hand closed around his skull.
CRUNCH.
Vrok’s head exploded in a spray of bone and brain matter. His body stood upright for a heartbeat, blood geysering from the neck, before collapsing into a twitching heap.
Domo retracted his arm, licking gore from his fingers with a serpentine tongue. “Mmm… sweet.”
---
Panic and Terror
The crowd erupted.
“RUN! IT’S DOMO!”
Saiyans scrambled over each other, abandoning crutches, IVs, even comrades. The old warrior in the wheelchair fell backward, his stumps kicking futilely as he screamed, “Get me up! GET ME UP!”
Domo’s yellow eye scanned the chaos. He took a step forward—
SLAM.
Gogeta, standing fifty yards away, felt his knees buckle. Sweat drenched his back. His heart pounded like a war drum. Every instinct screamed: PREDATOR. RUN. HIDE.
But he stood his ground.
Domo’s head snapped toward him. Their eyes met.
The monster grinned.
“Oh gods… it’s him.”
Gogeta followed their stares.
Gogeta’s fists clenched. “Who the hell are you supposed to be?”
Domo giggled—a high, unstable sound. He reached into the satchel at his hip and pulled out a severed Saiyan head, its face frozen in a scream. Gogeta’s stomach lurched.
“See this?” Domo crooned, stroking the corpse’s matted hair. “This one thought he could ambush me. Pathetic.” He dragged his tongue up the head’s severed neck, lapping at the congealed blood with a moan of pleasure. “Mmm… sweet. Each kill makes me stronger. Every drop I drink… every bone I break…”
He tossed the head aside and stepped closer, his aura flickering like a corrupted flame. “My father thinks power comes from discipline. Control. Weakness. Real strength…” He slammed a fist into his chest, the impact echoing. “…is taking. Crushing. Consuming.”
Gogeta’s lip curled. “You’re insane.”
Domo’s grin sharpened. “And you’re delicious. I can smell your power. When I rip out your heart, I bet it’ll taste like… 50 million.” He shuddered, saliva dripping from his chin. “Maybe more.”
---
The Dance of Destruction
Domo moved.
One second he was ten feet away; the next, his fist was an inch from Gogeta’s face. Gogeta ducked, the air screaming as Domo’s punch vaporized a boulder behind him.
Too fast!
Gogeta retaliated with a knee to Domo’s gut—but the man didn’t flinch. He grabbed Gogeta’s leg and squeezed, bones creaking.
“Cute,” Domo sneered, hurling him into a cliffside.
Gogeta crashed through rock, the world spinning. He barely rolled aside as Domo’s foot stomped down, shattering the stone where his head had been.
“Run! Run!” Domo mocked, his voice a singsong taunt. He lunged, fists a blur. Gogeta blocked, each blow rattling his bones, driving him backward.
The landscape erupted. Molten rock sprayed as Domo’s missed punches cratered the ground. Gogeta’s arms burned, his blocks growing slower, desperate.
“Getting tired?” Domo cooed. He grabbed Gogeta’s throat, lifting him off his feet. “Don’t worry. I’ll make it quick.”
Gogeta gagged, vision darkening—until he saw it. A flicker in Domo’s stance. A split-second arrogance.
Now.
---
The Shattered Tooth
Gogeta’s fist ignited with blue-white ki, the air crackling. He swung with everything—every ounce of pain, rage, and stubborn pride.
The punch connected with a crunch.
Domo’s head snapped sideways, a tooth spiraling through the air. His jaw hung loose, dislocated, blood spraying from his split lip. For the first time, his eyes widened—shocked.
Gogeta dropped to the ground, gasping. His knuckles throbbed, skin split open.
Domo staggered back, touching his mangled face. He stared at the blood on his fingers, then began to… laugh. A wet, gurgling sound.
“Yesss…” he hissed, his jaw snapping back into place with a sickening pop. “This is what I wanted! A real fight!”
Molten rock bubbled around them as Domo’s aura exploded, dark red and suffocating. Gogeta braced himself, teeth gritted.
Chapter 1: The Warrior Named Domo – David and Goliath
---
The Dance of Agony
The battlefield was a jagged hellscape of obsidian spires and rivers of molten rock. Gogeta, an 8-year-old Saiyan with a mop of wild hair and scrapes littering his arms, stood panting, his small frame trembling. Across from him loomed Domo—10 feet of sinewy muscle, scarred flesh, and twisted glee. His elongated limbs twitched like spider legs, his yellow eye locking onto Gogeta with predatory hunger.
"Run, little rat," Domo crooned, his voice like rusted nails. "I’ll make it quick."
Gogeta wiped blood from his split lip. Not a chance.
---
Gogeta darted forward, his small size letting him zigzag unpredictably. He feinted left, then slid between Domo’s tree-trunk legs, slamming a ki-charged palm into the back of Domo’s knee. The joint cracked, and Domo staggered, snarling.
"Cheap tricks!" Domo swung a backhand blindly. Gogeta ducked, the force of the swing tearing a nearby obsidian pillar in half. Before Domo could recover, Gogeta leaped onto his back, clinging like a spider monkey, and drove a flurry of ki-enhanced elbow strikes into Domo’s ribs.
CRUNCH. CRACK. CRUNCH.
Domo roared, thrashing like a wild beast. He slammed backward into a cliff face, trying to crush Gogeta. The boy let go at the last second, flipping away as the cliff collapsed into rubble.
---
Gogeta shot skyward, using short ki bursts to propel himself higher. Domo followed, his massive legs launching him like a cannonball.
Gogeta dropped suddenly, slamming a double-footed stomp onto Domo’s skull mid-ascent. The impact sent Domo plummeting, cratering the ground below. As Domo stood, Gogeta fired a rapid ki barrage—not to damage, but to blind. Domo swatted at the glowing orbs, and Gogeta swooped in, driving a knee into his solar plexus.
"ENOUGH!" Domo’s clawed hand snapped out, catching Gogeta’s ankle. He swung the boy like a ragdoll, smashing him into the ground repeatedly—THUD. THUD. THUD—before hurling him into a molten river.
Gogeta screamed as the lava seared his legs. He blasted upward with a wild ki burst, trailing smoke and embers.
---
Gogeta landed atop a fragile obsidian spire, baiting Domo. He lunged, fists raised—but Gogeta blasted the spire’s base, collapsing it. Domo crashed through the brittle rock, disoriented, and Gogeta pounced, raining ki-charged punches on his exposed spine.
"Cute," Domo spat. He twisted mid-fall, grabbing Gogeta’s arm and yanking him into a headbutt. Gogeta’s nose exploded in a spray of blood, and Domo hurled him into a canyon wall.
Half-conscious, Gogeta fired a wild ki blast at the canyon ceiling. The explosion rained boulders onto Domo, burying him. Gogeta crawled away, gasping—
KABOOM.
Domo erupted from the rubble, his skin scorched but unbroken. "You’ll need more than rocks!"
---
Gogeta’s vision blurred, his tiny body pushed beyond limits. He channeled every drop of ki into his fists, glowing like a dying star. He feigned a punch to Domo’s gut, then vanished, reappearing above to drive a ki-charged heel into his collarbone.
SNAP.
Domo’s shoulder sagged, his grin finally faltering. "You… pest!"
The battlefield was silent, save for the crackle of molten rock and the ragged breaths of an 8-year-old boy. Gogeta knelt on one knee, his tiny fists trembling against the obsidian ground. Blood dripped from his split lip, his SSJ2 aura flickering like a dying candle. Across the hellscape, Domo stood motionless, his 10-foot frame casting a shadow that swallowed the horizon.
Domo’s Aura – The Crimson Tide
It began as a whisper—a low, resonant hum that vibrated in Gogeta’s molars. Then it surged.
Domo’s crimson aura erupted, a tidal wave of malice that flattened the jagged terrain. The air thickened, tasting of iron and rot. Gogeta’s golden hair whipped violently as the pressure crushed him, his small body sinking into the cracked earth. He looked up, and for the first time, Domo seemed larger than the sky.
"Pathetic," Domo purred, taking a single step forward. The ground warped beneath his foot, molten rock bubbling upward like worshipers at an altar. "You’re not even a meal. Just… scraps."
Gogeta’s lungs burned. His vision blurred. Every instinct screamed to run, but his legs refused to move. Domo’s aura wasn’t just power—it was ownership. The planet itself bent to his will.
"You’re mine now," Domo crooned, his elongated fingers flexing. "Every bone. Every scream."
---
Flashback – Bumma’s Joyful Fury
The Ocean’s End
Young Gogeta sat cross-legged on a cliff, watching his mother, Bumma, twirl barefoot at the edge of an endless ocean. Her laughter rang like wind chimes as she gestured to the crashing waves.
"Watch closely, kiddo!" She grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "This one’s my masterpiece!"
She raised her palm, and the world shifted. The ocean recoiled, waves sliding backward as if fleeing. The air itself condensed, swirling into a vortex above her hand. A sphere of blue-white energy formed—a miniature star, devouring light and sound.
"It’s a magnet!" Bumma giggled, her hair whipping in the gale. "Pulls in energy from everything—even the air you’re breathing! And when it’s full…"
She winked.
BOOM.
The ocean vanished. Not evaporated—erased. A mile-wide crater yawned where water once roared, the vacuum sucking clouds from the sky. Bumma stood at the epicenter, hands on her hips, grinning like a child who’d cracked the universe’s code.
"See? Easy!" She ruffled Gogeta’s hair, her joy infectious. "You’ll do it better someday. I know it."
---
The Snap – Gogeta’s Resolve
Back on Vulkarath, Gogeta’s breath hitched. His mother’s laughter echoed in his skull, cutting through Domo’s oppressive aura.
"No…" Gogeta whispered, his trembling fists clenching. "Not… today."
His SSJ2 aura ignited, golden lightning shredding Domo’s crimson haze. The ground beneath him liquefied, molten rock surging upward as he forced himself to stand.
Domo’s Amusement
"Oh?" Domo tilted his head, his yellow eye narrowing. "Still squirming? Good."
He raised a clawed hand, and his aura condensed into a spear of red energy. "Let’s carve you into—"
Gogeta’s Roar
"SHUT UP!"
The Big Bang Attack – A Child’s Rebellion
The Pull
Gogeta raised his palm, mimicking his mother’s stance. At first, nothing happened—then the air screamed.
A speck of light formed in his hand. Tiny. Insignificant.
But then it pulled.
The Devour
Debris: Shattered obsidian, molten rock, even light itself bent toward the sphere.
Domo’s Aura: Threads of crimson energy tore free from Domo, siphoned into the growing singularity.
Gogeta’s Pain: His arm burned, skin peeling as the attack devoured his own ki.
Domo’s Panic
"What… is this?!" Domo snarled, his regal composure cracking. His elongated limbs strained against the gravitational pull, his flesh peeling back to bone. "STOP IT, BRAT!"
Gogeta’s Cry
"BIG… BANG… ATTAAAAAAAAACK!"
The Detonation – Erasure
The Blast
The sphere detonated.
A beam of pure annihilation tore through Domo, vaporizing his torso, then his legs, then his snarling face. The planet screamed, tectonic plates shearing apart. Mountains liquefied. The sky ripped open, starlight bleeding into the void.
The Aftermath
Silence.
Gogeta collapsed, his body a broken husk. The crater stretched for miles, its edges glowing white-hot. Domo was gone—not a scrap of flesh remained.
"M…Mom…" Gogeta whispered, tears mixing with blood. "I… did it…"
---
The King’s Return – A Whisper in the Void
The Laughter
It started as a wet gurgle. Then a cough. Then—
"Clever…"
From the epicenter of destruction, a skeletal hand clawed out of the magma. Domo’s charred skull grinned, muscle and sinew regenerating in grotesque waves.
"But I…" His yellow eye locked onto Gogeta. "Am no mortal."
Gogeta’s Despair
The boy’s vision faded. The last thing he saw was Domo’s clawed hand reaching for his throat.
"Sleep now," Domo crooned. "Your mission is waiting kid
