Age 749, Land of Gurumes…Far south of Central City, backed by the seemingly endless mountain range that lined the south coast sat a small, little-known kingdom. It was once a peaceful and happy community of mostly farmers, all protected by the watchful eye of King Gurumes. Sadly, this is no longer the case.
Now, the once lush and fertile hills where the kingdom had been established were torn completely asunder. Dozens of acres of crop land had been totally destroyed, most livestock had been either killed or escaped, and nearly half the kingdom had been badly beaten and wrongfully imprisoned by the guards who once vowed to keep them safe.
All of this was done in the name of King Gurumes, who’s “illness” has gotten so bad, he’d become a monster both inside and out. With the supply of easily accessible Blood Rubies trickling to a halt, the mad king saw no other option but to turn on his own people. He was certain one of those bottom dwellers had tried to pinch valuables from his mine- he just had to find them.
And while he didn’t find anymore Blood Rubies, he did discover the legend of the Dragon Balls.
Guremes’ Castle, Throne Room…
“Bongo! Pasta! What d-do you have to say fuh-for yourselves! It’s been four days. FOUR D-DAYS! You’ve haven’t found meh-me any new Dragon Balls!” The mutated king barked angrily towards his second and third in command, leaning forward in his chair as he did so. The arm rests on his throne began buckling and creaking as the kings ever-widening frame pressed against the walls of the chair, which had clearly been made for a much smaller man.
“Sir, it hasn’t been easy. It’s like findin’ a needle in the biggest haystack ever.” Bongo, a large brute of a man replied sheepishly, all the while trying to avoid direct eye contact with the monstrosity that sat before him.
“Sir,” Pasta, the small, delicate-looking young woman who acted as Gurumes’ third in command quickly interjected, “if we just had a bit more intel to go off of, we could drastically narrow our search down to-“
“I DONT HAVE ANYMORE INFORMATION! NOW GET OUT THERE AND DO WHAT I PAY YOU TO DO!” Gurumes, who’s been quietly groaning in his chair, quickly sparked to life after he realized both his subordinates had nothing but excuses to provide him.
“Yes sir!” Bongo quickly shot back before turning and running out of the castles main entrance.
Meanwhile Pasta simply stood their, staring at the king for a long moment. It was almost as if she’d zoned out completely- lost in deep contemplation.
“Have you gone deaf? WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE?!?” The oversized king shouted once more while attempting to wrench his rotund body out of its seat.
“Nothing, sir. I’ll get back to work!” Pasta finally came to as her King’s anger began to boil over.
After stepping outside, Pasta was quick to joined Bongo in tossing a capsule out, which quickly expanded in a helicopter. After a fast take-off, Pasta was once again lost in thought, this time only being brought back by the ringing of her choppers phone. It was Bongo.
“What’s with you pushing the king buttons so much?” The large man snapped towards his partner with zero hesitation, clearly having been put off by Pasta’s actions.
“I’m not tryin’ to. I’m just… I’m worried he’s gonna break into the reserve.” Pasta clearly wasn’t in the mood to speak, but forced a response nonetheless.
“And? He’s already squeezed the kingdom of all its worth. Why do you care if he uses what little is left? We’ve already confirmed the payment.” Bongo fired back, clearly not backing down despite his partners standoffish attitude.
“I’m just… I’m just worried about him, alright? He’s our primary assignment and we’ve made zero progress. So do as he says and get back to the search.” And with that, Pasta quickly ended the call. Bongo was too damn chatty.
Approximately 100 Miles West of East City…Nestled between a heavily wooden forest and a large river sat a small, finely-crafted wooden cabin. The residents of this isolated cabin were none other than Dr. Dango Ceric and his adoptive son, Gyoza… both of which could be seen tumbling out the front door in a flailing mess.
“Dang it, boy, hood still!” Dr. Ceric was a small, sinewy old man dressed up in an all black suit. The only touch of color on his entire person resided on his bright purple bow tie. Well that, and his ice white, slicked back hair. He was clearly the type of man many would describe as someone with ‘class’.
Though contrary to his appearance, the aged man barked his reply through gritted teeth while attempting to pin down the much more fit-looking young man. He had some type of special screwdriver in hand, and was aiming for a bolt on Gyoza’s prosthetic arm.
“Are you crazy old man? Get off of me. I told you I already ran diagnostics!” Gyoza shot back while attempting to wrestle the older man to the ground. Though it was clear that he wasn’t really trying too hard in his attempt to ward his adoptive father off.
“I just need to check one last time! You know I’ve got a better grasp on how those systems function! Just let me check them!” Having successfully put Gyoza in an arm-bar, Dr. Ceric used his free hand to begin unscrewing the casing on his sons artificial limb.
“Pa…what’s this really about? We both know I can do this just fine on my own.” As the burgundy haired cyborg finished speaking, he could feel his fathers grip on his limb give way.
The older man stepped back and helped his son to his feet, which was proceeded by the pair sharing a long moment silence as Ceric just looked over the strong and capable man before him. Seems like only yesterday he’d discovered that small, helpless baby amongst the waste-fields of Central City.
“I’m…well I’m honestly scared to see you go, son.” After Dr. Ceric finally spoke up, he was immediately met with a warm embrace.
“I’ll be okay. If things ever get to be too much to handle, I’ll come back. I promise.” The two finally broke apart, with the older of the two appearing to have finally come to terms with his sons wishes.
“I know you will. Just tough to see em’ go. Well now- get your arm reattached and get moving. You’ll wanna make it out of the forest before nightfall.” In an effort to lighten the mood, Dr. Ceric quickly flung the screwdriver at his sons head, causing the boy to dive for the ground.
“You really are crazy, you know that? What if one of these days I’m not ready?”
“Always be ready, runt. I love you.”
“…love you too, Pa. See you later.”