Arrival

The cloud of light unleashed by Vampa's destruction had long since been flung to some unimaginably distant place, reduced to a vague afterimage in memory.

Within the spatial passageway, rainbow light streamed like a rushing river of stars—bright, dazzling, racing through endless darkness.

The lights did not hang motionlessly in the void. Instead, they seemed alive, sometimes gathering into blinding vortices, sometimes stretching into long threads that wove an endless, ever-changing brocade of light.

This river of pure energy and starlight carried three figures at an indescribable speed toward a particular set of coordinates somewhere in the universe.

Broly stood behind Whis, as silent as a stone statue.

His massive figure was reflected in the flowing light and shadow, utterly steady.

There was nothing beneath his feet, yet he floated firmly in the center of the passageway, as though gravity did not exist here at all.

The sensation was strange.

His body was moving at tremendous speed, yet his senses carried the weightless feeling of floating—as if he were endlessly falling into an abyss, and yet also being borne aloft by an invisible wind.

During his forty-one years on Vampa, he had long grown used to the scorched, cracked rocks beneath his feet, the burning sand, and the ever-present stench of sulfur in the air.

But now, beneath his feet, there was only endlessly flowing light.

Only complete freedom, vast enough to make his heart race.

"We're almost there."

Whis's lighthearted voice drifted over from the glow ahead, abruptly breaking the nearly eternal roar within the passageway.

Without even turning his head, he simply raised his staff—the one with the magical orb set at its tip—and elegantly pointed it forward.

The instant the tip of the staff touched the river of light, it was like a pebble dropping into a tranquil lake.

The stream of light ahead suddenly began to spin faster. Rainbow-colored bands of light were stirred by an invisible force, coiling into an ever-expanding vortex.

The center of the vortex was as deep as a black hole, while fine motes of light splashed from its edges, glittering like diamonds.

Broly instinctively narrowed his golden eyes against the intensifying radiance.

He could sense that something was waiting for him beyond the vortex.

No—it was many things.

Auras.

They rushed toward him through space like ripples.

They varied in strength, each one distinct.

Some were as weak as dying candles in the wind, ready to go out at any moment; others were hot and surging, like young stars brimming with life.

Among those complex auras, two stood out most clearly, like the brightest twin stars in the night sky—close together, even somewhat intertwined.

One aura was heavy and steady, like an ancient mountain with roots sunk deep into the earth. The other was sharp, fervent, and full of aggression, like thunder that could erupt at any moment, openly displaying its strength and pride.

Those were Saiyan auras.

Broly's pupils contracted slightly, like a predator locking onto its prey before the hunt.

The large hand hanging at his side, its knuckles sharply defined, unconsciously clenched. The muscles in his arm tightened as well, but he quickly forced himself to relax.

An indescribable stirring rose from the depths of his bloodline.

"Earth."

Beerus's voice came from beside him, carrying that distinctive nasal drawl of his, along with obvious impatience and anticipation.

"What are you dawdling for, Whis? Hurry up. I'm so hungry my stomach's about to start growing flowers."

Whis merely smiled, the gentle, mysterious smile on his face deepening slightly.

He said nothing. He only gave his staff an elegant flick, as though dancing.

In an instant, the vortex before them seemed to be infused with immense energy and violently expanded.

A tide of silvery-white light surged forth, swallowing the passageway and Broly's entire field of vision in one sweep.

Light—endless light—accompanied by a faint hum, enveloped Broly completely.

When the dazzling silver-white radiance slowly receded like the tide, the first thing Broly regained was not his sight, but his sense of touch.

What he stepped on beneath his feet was completely different from Vampa.

It was neither scorching black rock nor rough sand.

It was soft, springy, and slightly yielding, with a faint coolness and dampness to it.

Looking down, he saw a vibrant expanse of green.

Fine yet resilient blades of grass poked up between his toes, bent beneath his weight. Dewdrops still clung to their tips, glittering in the newly risen sunlight.

The dampness of the morning seeped through the soles of his feet and spread through his whole body.

He slowly lifted his head.

Beneath his feet stretched a broad, neatly trimmed lawn, its green spreading in every direction.

At the edge of the lawn was a carefully tended garden, blooming with all kinds of flowers he had never seen before. Brightly colored and varied in shape, they swayed gently in the breeze, carrying a sweet but not cloying fragrance.

The garden path was paved with smooth cobblestones, stretching into the distance.

At the end of the view stood a large, pure-white building with an extremely futuristic design.

Its lines were sleek and its structure exquisite. Under the sunlight, its walls glowed softly, complementing the blue sky and white clouds.

The window glass was spotless and bright, reflecting the light of the sky and the shadows of the clouds.

The air.

The air here seized hold of his breath.

Forty-one years of life on Vampa had long accustomed him to the pungent stench of sulfur, the dusty smell of scorched earth, the metallic tang near lava, and the desolation and violence of that dead planet.

But now, what rushed into his nose was an entirely new scent, so rich it was almost dizzying: damp earth, the fragrance of all kinds of flowers in the garden, and the aroma of food drifting over from the white building—a mixture of roasting fat and milky sweet pastries—even the crisp sweetness of fresh fruit.

And there was an indescribable scent, as if life itself were pulsing in the air—the vitality of grass and trees, the freshness of the breeze, the quiet backdrop of everything being full of life.

This was Earth.

Broly stood there like a statue, completely motionless.

His broad shoulders relaxed slightly, then quickly straightened again.

He did nothing. He merely drank in everything around him with every one of his senses, greedily, almost hungrily.

He took a deep breath.

The warm, fresh, life-filled air flooded into his chest, bringing a cool, cleansing sensation.

Then he slowly exhaled, as though he wanted to replace all the heat and lifeless silence of Vampa that had accumulated inside him over forty-one years.

The feeling of that moment was difficult to put into words.

It was like a nightmare too long and too heavy had finally been awakened by sunlight.

"Hmph, did you get so stunned you turned stupid?"

Beerus's impatient voice came from ahead.

The God of Destruction had already walked several steps away. Half-turned, he slanted his narrow purple eyes at Broly, who was still standing where he was, his face full of disdain and impatience at the waste of time.

His tail lashed restlessly behind him.

"Don't stand there like a block of wood. Hurry up and follow." Beerus spoke quickly, his gaze already fixed on the white building in the distance. His throat bobbed slightly. "Bulma knew we were coming, so she definitely prepared a whole pile of delicious food. If we get there late, Kakarot might've already cleaned it all out."

With that, he did not wait for anyone's response. He turned around and strode forward.