The sky over the wilderness turned an ominous, swirling black. Lightning crackled, defying the laws of meteorology.
Luther stood before the seven glowing orbs, his hands in his pockets. He wasn't trembling with awe. He was just checking his watch.
"Arise, Shenron!" Luther shouted, using the classic command. "And let's make this quick."
A pillar of golden light erupted from the ground, twisting and solidifying into the massive, serpentine form of the Eternal Dragon. Red eyes glowed like coals in the darkness.
"I AM SHENRON," the dragon boomed, his voice vibrating in Luther's chest. "SPEAK YOUR WISH. I SHALL GRANT ANY ONE WISH WITHIN MY POWER."
Luther stepped forward. "Simple. I want you to teleport the Legendary Super Saiyan, Broly, right here. In front of me."
Shenron stared down. There was a long, awkward pause. The dragon seemed to be straining, his eyes flashing briefly.
"I CANNOT GRANT THAT WISH," Shenron finally rumbled.
Luther raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? You're a magic dragon. It's a delivery job."
"THE ENTITY KNOWN AS BROLY POSSESSES A POWER THAT EXCEEDS MY CREATOR'S," Shenron explained, sounding almost apologetic. "AND HE REFUSES THE SUMMONS. I CANNOT MOVE HIM AGAINST HIS WILL."
Luther sighed. "Right. The 'Consent Clause.' I forgot about that."
He quickly ran the calculations. The Earth Dragon Balls were weaker than the Namekian ones. And Broly? Even in his base form, the guy was a walking nuclear reactor. If he instinctively resisted the magic, Shenron couldn't force him.
"Fine," Luther pivoted. "If you can't bring Mohammed to the mountain, bring the mountain to Mohammed."
He looked up at the dragon.
"Send me to him. Teleport me to Broly's location. And make sure I have a return ticket open whenever I want."
Shenron's eyes flashed red again.
"THAT WISH IS EASY. IT SHALL BE GRANTED."
"Thanks, scales."
Before Luther could blink, reality warped.
It wasn't like his own crude teleportation that felt like a meat grinder. This was smooth. It felt like being hooked by a giant fishing line and yanked across the cosmos. The stars blurred into streaks of light. Dimensions folded.
Luther relaxed his body, letting the magic do the work. He could have fought it—his Biological Field was screaming to resist the intrusion—but he let the current take him.
THUD.
Luther hit the ground. He stumbled but caught himself, hovering a few inches off the jagged, rocky terrain.
The air tasted like sulfur and copper. The sky was a sickly, bruised yellow. The gravity was heavy—maybe ten or twenty times Earth's standard—but to a Kryptonian, it felt like nothing.
"Planet Vampa," Luther guessed, scanning the desolate horizon. "The armpit of the galaxy."
He closed his eyes and expanded his senses.
Super Hearing. Super Vision. Ki Sensing.
The planet was mostly quiet, filled with the scuttling of giant bugs and the wind howling through canyons. But then—there it was.
A Ki signature.
It was wild, jagged, and absolutely massive. It didn't feel like the refined, sharp Ki of a martial artist. It felt like a storm. It was primal rage given form.
"Found you," Luther whispered.
He flew low, hugging the terrain to avoid detection. He crested a ridge and looked down into a crater.
There he was.
A young man with wild black hair, wearing a pelt of green fur around his waist. He was dragging the corpse of a massive, spider-like alien beast by one leg.
Luther analyzed him instantly.
DBS Broly. The Reboot.
This was good. The "Z" version of Broly was a psychopath who hated crying babies. His power doubled randomly, but he was unstable.
This version? The "Super" version? He was a prodigy. He learned as he fought. He could go from "getting beat up by Vegeta" to "smashing Golden Frieza" in under an hour. His potential was effectively infinite.
"Target acquired," Luther thought.
He needed a sample. He needed the genetic code that allowed for that explosive, reactive evolution.
Luther didn't want a fight. A fight would destroy the planet, and he needed a lab, not a debris field. He needed to be surgical.
He vanished.
He moved faster than sound, faster than thought. He suppressed his presence completely, becoming a ghost in the wind.
Broly stopped walking. His instincts—honed by survival on this hellhole—screamed that something was wrong. But he was too slow.
Luther appeared directly behind him.
He didn't go for a punch. He went for the source.
He grabbed Broly's tail—the sensitive appendage wrapped around his waist.
"Gotcha."
ZZZT!
Luther's eyes flared red. Two razor-thin beams of heat vision sliced through the thick muscle and bone of the tail.
It was over in a millisecond. Luther cauterized the wound instantly to preserve the sample, caught the severed tail, and collected the spray of blood in a pre-prepared vial.
"GAAH!"
Broly roared. It wasn't a human sound; it was the sound of a wounded titan.
He spun around, his Ki exploding outward in a green shockwave that vaporized the spider-corpse and pulverized the rock for a mile in every direction.
"WHO?!" Broly screamed, his eyes turning yellow, his muscles swelling. He blasted energy beams randomly, turning the landscape into a sea of fire.
But there was no one there.
Luther was already ten miles deep.
Deep beneath the crust of the planet, Luther hollowed out a massive cavern using silent, precise application of his freeze breath and strength.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small capsule.
POOF.
A fully fully-equipped, state-of-the-art genetic laboratory materialized in the cave. It had its own power generator, air scrubbers, and gravity plating.
"Sorry about the tail, big guy," Luther muttered, walking into the sterile white lab while the ground shook above him from Broly's tantrum. "But it'll grow back. Probably."
He placed the severed tail and the blood vial into a stasis analyzer.
"Computer," Luther commanded. "Begin sequencing. Isolate the S-Cells. Cross-reference with the Kryptonian Codex. I want to see where the puzzle pieces fit."
Thus began the grind.
Luther didn't sleep. He didn't eat. He just worked.
Above him, life on Vampa went on. He could hear Broly training, fighting giant ticks, and roaring at the moon. It became background noise—a constant reminder of the power he was trying to harness.
Luther dove into the microscopic world. He failed. He tried again. He burned through thousands of simulations.
He was trying to do the impossible: fuse the "Solar Battery" of a Kryptonian—which absorbed external energy—with the "Mutant Engine" of Broly—which generated internal energy endlessly.
One month passed. Six months. A year.
Luther's eyes were glued to the microscope. His hair had grown out slightly. He looked less like a CEO and more like a mad scientist.
The calendar on the wall ticked over.
Two years.
Luther sat in front of the main console. A final simulation bar filled up on the screen. It turned green.
[SYNCHRONIZATION COMPLETE. HYBRID GENOME STABLE.]
Luther leaned back in his chair, a slow, terrifying smile spreading across his face.
"Bingo."
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