c2: Goodbye!
A few years later… on Planet Vegeta…
A young man clad in a tight, dark blue Saiyan battle suit with reinforced shoulder guards and a light golden cape sat cross-legged in a desolate wilderness. Around him, the ground was scorched from repeated energy outbursts. A faint aura shimmered around his body, flickering like fire in the breeze—Ki, steadily rising.
Not far off, a commanding figure watched him with arms crossed. Wearing the traditional royal Saiyan armor with a flowing red cape, a scouter over one eye, and a stern expression, the figure was unmistakable King Vegeta, ruler of Planet Vegeta.
The King's eyes narrowed as the young man's energy surged. He tapped the side of his scouter, and within seconds, the device beeped and displayed a numeric reading.
"3053."
The scouter hummed, the number stabilizing.
King Vegeta didn't react. His expression remained cold, unimpressed.
"Is this your ceiling?" he thought to himself with veiled contempt. The boy approached with a casual gait, barely trying to hide his indifference. King Vegeta spoke sharply:
"Too slow… Betkas."
"You had a battle power of 1,000 at birth. Last year you reached 2,000. This year, only 3,000? An increase of a mere 1,000 in twelve months?"
Betkas stared at him, outwardly calm, but inwardly annoyed. He responded with practiced restraint, "I'll work harder."
Inside, he grumbled:
"You old bastard… Do you think power increases come easy? A thousand points per year on Earth, I'd be considered a freak. Even Goku took years to reach 8,000. Sure, during the Frieza arc they gained power in jumps, but that was post-Zenkai boosts and Senzu Beans. Here? I'm just grinding like hell every day."
King Vegeta's scowl deepened. A momentary flicker of killing intent flashed in his eyes, dropping the temperature around them.
Still, he simply turned away and spoke flatly:
"Continue your training. Someone will arrive soon… you know what to do."
Betkas's lips twitched, as if to speak but he didn't. He already understood what this was about.
---
In the years since his reincarnation, Betkas had pieced everything together.
This was the Dragon Ball universe. A world where power decided everything. Where a child could destroy a planet. Where energy blasts and transformations defied logic. At first, he'd thought it a dream. A cruel, ironic wish fulfillment. But it was real.
Worse he hadn't just become any Saiyan. He was now Betkas, the third son of King Vegeta, and younger brother to both Prince Vegeta and Tarble.
Tarble had already been exiled for his soft personality and low power level. That left only the driven, prideful Vegeta and the reluctant Betkas to remain on Planet Vegeta.
Training under Saiyan doctrine was brutal—no compassion, no shortcuts. Even as a reincarnated soul with previous martial arts experience (he'd practiced taekwondo on Earth), Betkas had nearly broken more times than he could count.
Over the years, he and Vegeta had trained together often. Sometimes they'd sparred. More often, they'd clashed. Despite being younger, Betkas had racked up more wins than losses early on, largely due to his prior combat instincts.
For Vegeta, a pure-blooded prince with sky-high pride but little real combat experience as a child, this was intolerable. Every time Betkas knocked him down, the scowl deepened. The resentment grew.
Had this been Earth, Betkas might've worried about political sabotage. But Saiyans weren't schemers they settled grudges with fists, not poison. Still, he was Vegeta's inner demon. And King Vegeta always turned a blind eye, likely hoping the competition would drive both sons further.
---
"Prince Betkas. You're to come with us."
After King Vegeta departed, three alien soldiers appeared behind Betkas. Each wore the standardized Frieza Force combat armor and scouters over one eye.
One had a bulbous octopus-like face. Another had the head of a canine. The third resembled a fish. Despite their grotesque features, their postures were polite—almost rehearsed. But Betkas wasn't fooled.
He turned and stared at them, outwardly calm, inwardly bemused.
"I get it," he said with a small nod. His tone was neutral, concealing his thoughts.
Without another word, the trio led him to a small spherical pod a standard short-range attack ship used by Frieza's army. One of them, the dog-faced one, turned and offered a warning, barely veiled as a threat:
"That ship up there is Lord Frieza's personal command vessel. Best mind your manners, Prince. Frieza's men don't think highly of Saiyans."
Betkas smirked slightly, then said flatly:
"Thanks. I'll remember that."
He already knew how much Frieza despised the Saiyan race. In the manga, Frieza had only spared Vegeta because of his royal lineage and potential nothing more. Betkas, by contrast, didn't have a significant role in the original timeline. He was an anomaly.
He boarded the small pod, strapped himself in, and activated the launch system. The craft lifted off, rocketing toward the massive disc-shaped mothership hovering in the upper atmosphere.
As he ascended, Betkas glanced back through the visual monitor. Far in the distance, another Saiyan pod.identical to his own soared away in a different direction.
He narrowed his eyes.
"Goodbye… Planet Vegeta…"
"…And goodbye, Broly."
He paused a moment longer.
"…See you later, Kakarot."
That second pod, he realized, likely contained the child named Kakarot later known as Goku—now en route to Earth. The timeline was catching up.
And as for him?
"Frieza... From now on, I'll be living aboard your floating warship."
"I hope it won't be too troublesome…"
His tone was dry, but the resolve in his heart was fierce.
"I hate trouble. But to survive… I have to become strong. With only 3,000 in battle power, I'm just cannon fodder. I need at least 50,000 maybe more if I want to avoid becoming space dust."
"I have to bide my time. Show potential but not enough to threaten Frieza. The real danger isn't just him... it's his lackeys."
He folded his arms as the ship broke into orbit, muttering one last time:
"Dodoria and Zarbon are manageable. But the Ginyu Force… they're the real pain."
His eyes narrowed, his golden pupils glowing faintly.
"I'm not going to die in someone else's story."
"This time… I'll change the ending."
—