The moment Rudra's life ended, darkness swallowed him whole.
When he opened his eyes again, he found himself lying on a barren ground of jagged black rocks. A strange silence weighed heavily on the air. The sky above was void, with only a dim moon casting pale light across the wasteland.
"What… happened?"
Rudra slowly stood up, his body trembling, and looked around in disbelief.
"Where am I?"
The memories came crashing back — the round houses, flying cars, the futuristic city. The police shouting outside. The bullets.
"Wait! If I remember correctly… I was in the Dragon Ball universe and—"
His voice faltered.
"—and the police there killed me."
He froze, his chest tightening as the words left his mouth.
Then, suddenly, the silence was broken by the sound of clapping.
Rudra's head snapped toward the shadows. A tall figure emerged, illuminated by the eerie glow of the moon.
"Well then… so it's you?"
As the figure stepped forward, Rudra's eyes widened in shock. The being's body was unmistakably Namekian in shape — tall, lean, with antennae and pointed ears. But his skin wasn't green. Instead, it glowed with a strange mixture of red and orange, as if flames ran beneath his veins.
"A Namekian?" Rudra whispered in disbelief.
The stranger laughed, a deep, resonant sound that echoed across the rocks.
"So you've recognized it."
The figure raised his hand proudly.
"My name is Zalama. The legendary Namekian who created the Super Dragon Balls!"
Rudra's jaw dropped. His voice cracked with disbelief as he shouted, "What??"
This was impossible. Zalama was nothing more than a fan-theory character in discussions — a name whispered in Dragon Ball communities, not someone meant to stand in front of him.
"How can this be real…?"
Zalama only laughed harder.
"It seems I've surprised you."
The giant extended a massive hand toward Rudra.
"Come with me. Take my hand. There's a better place where we can talk properly."
At first, Rudra hesitated. He didn't trust this strange being. Yet he had questions — far too many. With a cautious step, he reached forward.
"Fine. But don't try anything clever."
Zalama smirked.
"If I intended to harm you, I would have done so already."
In the blink of an eye, the barren wasteland dissolved. Rudra found himself transported to an entirely different planet — one unlike anything he had ever seen. The skies shimmered red and green, while the land stretched endlessly with forests, glowing rivers, and towering crystalline structures. Life flourished everywhere; an entire civilization bustled in the distance.
Rudra's eyes widened.
"This planet… it's enormous."
With another gesture, Zalama warped them into a vast chamber. Its walls shimmered with emerald and crimson hues. At the far end stood colossal thrones, their designs intricate and ancient.
Zalama, whose size dwarfed a normal human many times over, sat comfortably upon the largest throne. His form looked almost divine under the shifting lights.
"Sit, Rudra," Zalama commanded.
Feeling awkward, Rudra climbed onto one of the other thrones. It was so large that ten men his size could have fit into it.
"Uh… thanks."
Without a word, Zalama lifted his hand. A golden glow swirled, and suddenly a table appeared before them, covered with dazzling dishes and drinks.
By now, Rudra was beyond shock. He ignored the feast and leaned forward.
"I'll start with my first question. How do you know me?"
Zalama brushed off the question. Instead, he conjured two glasses and slid one toward Rudra. A frosty drink sloshed within.
"Here. I know you like cold coffee, don't you?"
Rudra stiffened. His frustration grew, but the answer was clear enough — Zalama's power wasn't limited to this universe. He knew of Rudra's world too.
Taking a cautious sip, Rudra narrowed his eyes.
"Fine. My second question: Are you the one who summoned me into this reality?"
Once again, Zalama dodged the question. He sipped his own drink with a satisfied sigh.
"Excellent. Cold coffee from your world has a flavor even I cannot recreate, no matter how powerful my magic. So, I simply brought a human from your world — one who knew how to brew it — here for me."
Rudra almost choked. "You mean… kidnapped, just like me?"
Zalama burst into laughter.
"Oh, you joke so poorly that I can't help but laugh!"
Grinding his teeth, Rudra drained his glass in one gulp.
"Then tell me. What do you want from me?"
Zalama's smile faded into a more serious expression. He set his empty glass aside and leaned forward.
"I expected you to beg me to grant your every wish. But it seems… you're not as selfish as I thought."
With a single wave of his hand, the table and food vanished into thin air.
"Very well. Let's get to the point. Because of the angels' rules, I cannot see the future. But I discovered a reality where we — all of us, this entire universe — exist only as stories. In that moment, I realized something: why not summon a Dragon Ball fan? Someone who knows every possible future, in incredible detail."
His fiery eyes locked onto Rudra.
"And that's why I brought you here. Unfortunately, you failed your first trial… and died pathetically, trying too hard to be a good person."
Rudra clenched his fists but kept his face blank. His voice was cold.
"The world I dreamed of is nothing like this. That dream has become a harsh reality."
Zalama's smirk returned as he leaned back on his throne.
"Then here is my offer: I want you to become my scapegoat."
The words struck Rudra like thunder. His eyes burned with anger as he glared back at the legendary Namekian.