Again | See You Sequel ✮ 𝑯𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓𝑿𝑯𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑿 𝑫𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒐𝒏 𝑩𝒂𝒍𝒍

☆Prologue☆

Third person POV

The Heavens Arena, a towering skyscraper that scraped the celestial canvas, pierced the night sky with its majestic presence. However, on this particular night, the vibrant glow was replaced by an ominous darkness that draped the building in an unsettling shroud.

The once-pristine arena floor, usually a stage for spectacular feats of combat, now lay in disarray. Debris, shattered glass, and remnants of a chaotic struggle scattered across the vast expanse, telling a tale of mayhem that had unfolded with destructive intensity. The air was heavy with the acrid scent of burnt remnants, a testament to the ferocity that had befallen this once-hallowed ground.

In the midst of the wreckage, an old man, his attire now tattered and stained, stood hunched over. His hands clutched his stomach, blood seeping through his fingers and staining the floor beneath him. Labored breaths escaped his lips, forming visible puffs in the chilled air.

"You're finally at the end of the line, Son Gozen."

Before him, two imposing figures loomed, their silhouettes dark against the fractured glow of the arena lights. Their presence exuded an otherworldly menace, a red aura pulsating around them like malevolent flames. The air crackled with an energy that spoke of power beyond the earthly realm.

"Far from it..." The old man, undeterred by the ominous figures before him, scoffed defiantly. His obsidian eyes, though wearied by the years, still glinted with a fierce determination.

"You may take me now just like how you took the rest of my brethren," he rasped, his voice cutting through the silence. "But the prophecy cannot be thwarted by the likes of you. Destiny will unfold as it is written, and your plans will crumble like dust in the wind."

The figures, engulfed in the eerie red glow, exchanged a glance. The old man's words seemed to echo in the cavernous space, challenging the very fabric of their intentions. Yet, within the red maelstrom that enveloped them, there was a cold and calculating determination, as if they believed themselves capable of rewriting the narrative of fate.

The Heavens Arena bore witness to a confrontation that transcended the boundaries of mortal comprehension. The old Saiyan man, battered and broken, stood as a harbinger of an impending prophecy-a prophecy that would dictate the course of events in a struggle that stretched beyond the confines of the shattered arena and into the realms of the celestial unknown.