Raditz exhaled deeply, releasing all the tension that had coiled in his chest during the battle. The breath came out long and controlled, carrying with it the last remnants of divine power as his body fully returned to its base state. Immediately, clarity flooded his mind—that crystalline mental state that came after pushing yourself to absolute limits and surviving intact.
The perpetual breeze of the Destroyer's Realm felt incredible against his skin, cool air flowing across the verdant grass and washing over him like a physical blessing. After the heat of god-level combat, even this simple sensation felt like a luxury.
Beside him, Beerus allowed himself a similar moment of relief, though his was more subtle—a quiet exhale, shoulders dropping just slightly. At least he'd maintained the dignity befitting a God of Destruction. A draw wasn't a loss, after all. His reputation remained intact.
"My brother is incredible," Goku said, his voice colored with genuine excitement and unmistakable envy. "To actually fight Lord Beerus to a standstill like that..."
Vegeta's jaw tightened. Internally, he was equally shocked by what he'd witnessed, but admitting it out loud? Never. He settled for a soft, dismissive snort, arms crossed tightly over his chest as he forced his expression into something resembling indifference.
Whis, ever the observer, glided over with that perpetual knowing smile. "Raditz, you've done exceptionally well. Truly impressive progress." Then, because he couldn't resist, he turned to Beerus with barely concealed amusement. "Though Lord Beerus, you might want to pick up the pace in your training. Being matched by someone so much younger must be a novel experience for you."
"Whis!" Beerus's eye twitched.
The Angel chuckled before addressing the two mortal Saiyans. "Mr. Goku, Mr. Vegeta—I trust you both found this educational? I expect to see similar dedication in your own training moving forward."
"Right!" Goku's entire demeanor shifted, renewed determination blazing in his eyes. He turned to Vegeta, grinning with that competitive edge that had defined their relationship for years. "Come on, Vegeta! We've got to catch up to my brother!"
"Hmph!" Vegeta's response was immediate and predictable. "I won't lose to you, Kakarot. And I certainly won't remain this far behind Raditz forever."
Both Saiyans were already moving, energy crackling around them as they threw themselves back into their training with the single-minded intensity that defined their kind. Defeat, witnessing superior power, being shown the gap between themselves and the next level—none of it discouraged them. If anything, it only made them train harder.
Raditz watched them for a moment, a small smile playing at his lips. This was what Saiyans were supposed to be. Not the conquering destroyers that Frieza had molded them into, but warriors who constantly pushed beyond their limits, who treated every defeat as a stepping stone rather than a setback. Watching Goku and Vegeta chase strength with such pure determination reminded him why he'd fought so hard to give their race a second chance.
"Well then," Raditz said, stretching his arms above his head with a satisfied grunt. "Since there's nothing else urgent, I should head home. Zangya's waiting with dinner, and she gets creative with her punishments when I'm late." He turned to Beerus with a playful grin. "Lord Beerus, you're welcome to join us. My wife's cooking might not be at Whis's level, but it's still worth the trip."
For once, Beerus waved off the offer without even a moment's consideration. "Maybe another time. You go ahead."
Raditz raised an eyebrow—Beerus turning down food was like Goku refusing a challenge—but he didn't press the issue. "Suit yourself. See you all later."
He raised two fingers to his forehead, and in the next instant, vanished via Instant Transmission.
The verdant grass continued swaying in the artificial breeze. Goku and Vegeta's shouts and energy blasts created a distant soundtrack of intense training. Whis hummed softly to himself, examining his staff with apparent fascination.
Beerus stood perfectly still, golden eyes fixed on the spot where Raditz had disappeared. Minutes passed in silence. Finally, without turning his head, he spoke quietly.
"Hey, Whis. Tell me the truth." His voice had lost all its usual bombast, reduced to something almost vulnerable. "Did Raditz hold back?"
"Haha!" Whis's laugh was genuine, though not unkind. "Lord Beerus, your perception is as sharp as ever." His smile softened into something more serious, and he nodded slowly. "Yes. He did."
The words hung in the air like a physical weight.
"I knew it." Beerus's fists clenched at his sides, though his voice remained controlled. "Damn it all... I'm really not satisfied with this."
"Lord Beerus isn't weak," Whis said gently, his tone lacking any trace of his usual teasing. "It's simply that Raditz's rate of growth is... extraordinary. Unprecedented, really. To be perfectly honest, if he manages to take even one more significant step forward, he may actually be capable of challenging me."
Beerus's eyes went wide. He turned to stare at Whis fully, mouth opening and closing a few times before he found words. "You're... you're serious?"
"Quite serious, I'm afraid."
For several long moments, Beerus processed this information. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, he straightened up with an overly casual air. "Well! Regardless of all that, this proves my precognitive dream was accurate, doesn't it? The Super Saiyan God really did appear, exactly as prophesied!"
The transparent attempt to salvage his pride would have been comical if it weren't so earnest.
Whis decided to show mercy. Rather than pointing out the obvious deflection, he simply smiled and nodded. "Lord Beerus is absolutely correct this time. The prophecy came true precisely as foretold."
But Beerus didn't look depressed despite learning the truth about Raditz holding back. Instead, his lips curved into a slow, meaningful grin—the kind of smile that suggested he was already planning something, already thinking several moves ahead.
Far beyond the twelve universes, in a space that existed outside conventional reality, an infinite sea of stars stretched in all directions. Prismatic mist drifted through the cosmic void, light refracting and dancing in patterns that defied physics. The environment shifted constantly—chaotic yet somehow peaceful, like watching someone else's dreams unfold.
At the heart of this impossible space stood a palace.
Or rather, it resembled a palace the way a child's crayon drawing resembles a photograph. The structure was shaped like the kanji for "all" (全), its architecture seemingly designed by someone whose only reference for "impressive building" was a kindergarten entrance. Bright, primary colors dominated every surface. Rounded edges and cheerful proportions gave it an almost toy-like quality. This was the Palace of Omni-King—the supreme seat of power in all existence.
The aesthetic dissonance was both deliberate and deeply unsettling. The being who ruled from here could erase entire universes with a thought, yet chose to surround himself with the trappings of childhood.
Inside the throne room, Zeno sat upon an enormous chair that made his small frame look even more diminutive. Before him stretched a massive game board, and scattered across its surface were planets—not representations or projections, but actual celestial bodies, shrunk down and teleported here for his amusement. Beside the board sat a thick manga volume: Dragon Ball Heroes.
Zeno raised one small arm, extending a single finger with the concentration of a child lining up a particularly important shot.
"Hmmm..." He eyed the board carefully, tongue poking out slightly in focus. Then, decisively: "Nail!"
Tink!
His finger flicked forward. One planet careened across the board's surface, spinning as it crashed into another world. The collision generated a brief flash of light—countless billions of lives potentially extinguished in an instant—and both celestial bodies crumbled into glittering dust that sparkled like crushed gemstones.
"Hehehehe!" Zeno's feet kicked back and forth gleefully, delighted by the pretty lights.
The two guards flanking his throne remained absolutely motionless. They didn't react to the casual extinction event. They didn't speak. They barely seemed to breathe. They were less bodyguards and more ornamental pillars that happened to be vaguely humanoid in shape.
Zeno continued playing for a while longer, but as the number of planets on his board dwindled, his enthusiasm began to wane. He poked at the remaining worlds with less energy, his kicks slowing.
"Grand Priest!" He called out suddenly, dropping the manga beside him. "I've almost finished Dragon Ball Heroes! There's only a few pages left!" He clutched the book protectively, clearly saving those final chapters for when he really needed them. "And these planet games are getting boring. Is there anything else fun to do?"
The Grand Priest materialized nearby—he'd been present the entire time, of course, but standing so still and silently that even his existence seemed to fade from notice until he was needed. Now he stepped forward with a respectful bow and that ever-present gentle smile.
"I'm afraid I wouldn't know about new entertainment, Lord Zeno. If you'd like more book, you might need to ask Raditz. Perhaps you could... encourage him to work faster?"
"Mmm..." Zeno tapped his chin thoughtfully. Then his face brightened with sudden inspiration. "Oh! Oh! How about that universe tournament last time? Let's make it for all universe. That would be super interesting! And Raditz would have to come too, right? Since he's the Kaioshin of Universe Seven?"
"As a Supreme Kai, his attendance would indeed be mandatory," the Grand Priest confirmed.
"Perfect!" Zeno hopped down from his oversized throne, landing with a soft thump before beginning to pace—or rather, toddle—back and forth excitedly. "Okay, so... how many universes are there in total right now?"
"Twelve, Lord Zeno."
"Twelve..." Zeno held up his hands, trying to count on his fingers. When he ran out of digits, his expression scrunched up with visible distress. "That's... that's too many! Way too many!" He looked up at the Grand Priest, his tone remaining perfectly casual despite the implications. "Why don't we just get rid of a few?"
To him, erasing several universes—potentially trillions upon trillions of lives—was no different from flicking planets across a game board moments earlier. The scale was different, but the casual indifference remained identical.
The Grand Priest's smile never wavered. "What did you have in mind, Lord Zeno?"
"Hmm..." Zeno's face scrunched up in concentration. "I haven't really thought about it yet. You arrange something! Make it like that tournament between Universe Six and Seven—that was really fun to watch! But bigger! More universes!" His expression brightened further. "Oh! And we can get rid of the universes that aren't doing very well. The ones with low levels. That makes sense, right?"
Having delegated the actual planning, Zeno nodded to himself with satisfaction, clearly considering the matter settled.
The Grand Priest bowed his acceptance. His role had always been to interpret and execute Zeno's will, never to question or refuse it. The Omni-King wanted to screen universes through combat? Very well. It aligned with the natural law of survival of the fittest, after all.
Though the idea was simple in concept, the execution would require careful planning. The strength gap between universes was substantial—Universe One's average mortal level far exceeded most others, for instance. Creating rules that would make the tournament both fair and entertaining would demand considerable thought.
Still, the Grand Priest had billions of years of experience to draw upon. He would make it work.
"By the way, Lord Zeno," the Grand Priest said carefully. "Regarding the situation with the ruins and the negative world—it remains unresolved. If you're certain about eliminating the lower-ranked universes, we could potentially use those cosmos to reinforce the seal. Their entire dimensional space could be converted into additional layers of containment for the negative energy."
Zeno tilted his head. "Hm? We still haven't found those bad guys yet?"
"Unfortunately not, my lord. I apologize for the continued delay."
"Eh, it's fine!" Zeno waved a hand dismissively. "We'll just deal with them when they come out. They can't hide forever!" His carefree attitude made perfect sense—after all, nothing in existence posed an actual threat to him. "Let's focus on getting this universe tournament done first! I can't wait anymore! It's going to be so exciting!"
The memory of the fierce battles between Universe Six and Seven had clearly stuck with him. That exhibition match had been entertaining enough, but now he had the opportunity to see all the universes compete, to witness the absolute strongest warriors from each cosmos clash in glorious combat. The anticipation practically radiated from his small form.
"Then I shall begin arrangements immediately, Lord Zeno."
The Grand Priest bowed deeply, then raised his staff. Divine light pulsed from the crystalline ornament at its tip, and instantly, his consciousness connected with the Angels serving in the realms below. The summoning order of the Omni-King spread like ripples across the multiverse.
Every Grand Minister, every Supreme Kai, every God of Destruction—all the high-level deities received the command simultaneously, the message branded directly into their divine consciousness:
Lord Zeno summons the gods to gather.