The Secret of Vampa

The Gods of Destruction from other universes were not to be trifled with—this thought pricked at Beerus's mind like a thorn, over and over again.

Just imagining the arrogant posturing of those guys from Universe 11 made his blood boil.

Toppo's rigid, self-righteous face, Dyspo moving so fast he was nothing but a blur, and... most headache-inducing of all, Jiren.

Honestly, every time he thought of Jiren's eyes—calm, yet seemingly capable of swallowing everything whole—Beerus felt a throb in his temple.

The Tournament of Power was about to begin, and at a time like this, any variable could completely disrupt the entire situation.

What if... what if Vampa really was hiding a Saiyan stronger than Son Goku and Vegeta?

Beerus abruptly stopped tapping his fingers.

In that moment, a sharp glint flashed in his purple eyes, like a predator in the night suddenly snapping its eyes open.

He stood up slowly from his stone chair, his oversized God of Destruction robes dragging across the ground with a soft, rustling sound.

"Let's go. We're going to take a look."

His voice was low and calm, carrying a sense of finality that brooked no argument, pressing down on the air like a heavy stone.

"Oh?" Whis turned around, the gem at the top of his staff shimmering with a prismatic glow.

He raised an eyebrow, his eyes full of playful mockery as he chuckled, "Lord Beerus is finally interested? I thought you were going to wave your hand like you always do and say, 'Saiyans from such a trash planet aren't worth mentioning.'"

"Enough talk."

Beerus glared at him, his gaze as sharp as a blade.

He began to walk toward Whis, each step steady and powerful.

As he drew closer, he tilted his head to add, lowering his voice as if stating a simple fact: "But I'm saying this now, Whis. If that guy is just a waste of space with a lot of energy but no fighting skill, I don't want to waste a single second."

"Of course, Lord Beerus."

Whis nodded with a smile, his silver hair swaying gently in the breeze.

"Shall we depart now, then?"

"Wait!"

An urgent voice suddenly cut in.

Son Goku rushed over from the training grounds like a bolt of golden lightning, kicking up a gust of wind.

He was still covered in sweat, his orange gi disheveled, but his black eyes were bright enough to spark, filled with curiosity and a thirst for battle.

He raised his hand, nearly jumping as he shouted, "I want to go too! Take me with you, Lord Beerus!"

Beerus didn't even turn around fully, merely glancing at him coldly from the corner of his eye.

That look was like an icicle, instantly extinguishing half of Son Goku's enthusiasm.

"You stay here."

Beerus's tone left no room for negotiation: "You and Vegeta have more important things to do. The Tournament of Power starts in forty hours. You need to use this final time to push your condition to its peak. As for this matter," he paused, finally turning to meet Son Goku's gaze, "Whis and I are enough."

"But—"

Son Goku couldn't help but take a step forward, his brows knitted tight and his fists clenched.

He could feel his blood accelerating, the craving for an unknown powerhouse clawing at his heart like a cat.

"There are no 'buts'."

Beerus cut him off, his voice not loud, but carrying that absolute pressure unique to a God of Destruction, as if the entire Supreme Kai World trembled along with it.

"If that Saiyan is truly worthy of being called a 'powerhouse,' I will bring him back. If not," he narrowed his eyes, "you following along now would just be a waste of time and energy."

Son Goku opened his mouth, a lump forming in his throat.

He looked at Beerus's expressionless face and realized that arguing was useless.

Finally, his shoulders slumped, and he said nothing more.

But his eyes betrayed him—they were full of reluctance and anticipation, like a hunting beast that had caught the scent of prey but was held fast by a heavy chain.

Whis watched it all, smiling faintly.

He said nothing, simply gripping his staff elegantly with both hands, holding it to his chest, and tapping it lightly against the void in front of him.

Hum—

A strange resonance echoed, not heard by the ears, but vibrating directly into the fabric of space.

The sphere atop the staff suddenly erupted with a silver-white light; it wasn't blinding, but possessed a sacred, mysterious quality.

The light flowed out like water, winding and condensing before them, until—crack—it tore open to both sides!

A spatial rift, its edges dusted with silver sparks, was ripped wide open.

Inside was not darkness, but a distorted, kaleidoscopic scene where the trajectories of starlight were stretched into long, colorful ribbons.

Through the rift, the view on the other side slowly became clear—it was the cold, silent depths of the universe.

Stars drifted like dust, and in the very center, a planet hung suspended.

A dark red planet, looking as if it were pieced together from congealed blood and rusted metal.

It rotated in isolation, its surface devoid of greenery or any trace of water, featuring only endless barren mountains and massive craters shrouded in an ominous, dark red mist.

That was Vampa.

Even across the rift, one could feel the desolation and deathly silence radiating from it.

"Vampa," Whis said, his tone as relaxed as ever, forming a strange contrast with the scene before them. "It's about... well, in your units, quite far. But with a little trick of hyperspace jumping, we'll be there in no time."

He took the lead, his white boots stepping into the iridescent rift, his figure instantly half-swallowed by the distorted light.

Beerus did not hesitate either. He cast one last glance at Son Goku, whose face clearly read "I want to go," let out a cold snort, and strode inside.

The purple figure vanished into the silver light, the hem of his God of Destruction robe fluttering one last time.

The spatial rift closed rapidly from both ends like a healing wound.

The silver light dimmed and dissipated, the final ripples smoothing out, and the clearing in front of the Supreme Kai World temple returned to its original state, as if nothing had happened at all.

Only a faint spatial fluctuation remained in the air, proving that the two gods had truly departed.