Disclaimer: I'm going to write this once. The Dragonball franchise belongs to, as far as my knownledge goes, to FUNimation, TOEI Animation, Fuji TV, Cartoon Network, Viz Media, 20th Century FOX, and Akira Toriyama. This is an unofficial adaptation (or fanfiction) and is not made for anything other than entertainment purposes. Enjoy.

Dreams. They're so funny sometimes.

Sometimes they can be incredible blurs, rainbows of colors of imagination that seem to make no sense, but are so amazing that one can't help but watch, to try and make out the scenes. And no wonder; they're dreams. Unless you could force yourself awake.. well, you know.

Then there are the dreams that are so vivid in detail that while the random stories may make no sense, that you can't help but remember them long after you wake up.

People may or may not experience both in a single night. And our hero's story -- no, his legend -- begins not when he's awake but when he's asleep.

His dreams aren't usually this abnormal nor are they usually this close to the truth, which is why we're going to try and pay close attention this night instead of any other night. However, because they ARE dreams it would be almost impossible to properly interpret them. Because that is the case, we'll have to do it as best as we can.

Blurs of images pass by quickly, so quickly that one might miss them if one blinked.

A meteor crashes in empty fields, and out of the wreckage a lone being crawls out barely alive. He clings to life though, and before we can see more it blurs into another image.

A robed man, armed with a long red staff yet using a wooden one to walk, stands atop the Earth. He is accompanied by two others, one of which who is pure black, a djinn who seems to be but a servant to this ruler. The other being -- who long long ago was alone in the plains -- is robed in similar robes of his master, complete with the symbol of "God" on his chest. His master calmly, sadly tells the other that in order to become the Guardian he must purge himself of all evil. He must be pure in order to be the Lord.

Another blur, and we see the lone being praying. To whom is not made clear, but whatever he prays for is driven from his mind as he lets out painful scream. Within seconds his body seems to split apart, and yet the lone being is still whole; he opens his eyes to find himself staring... at himself. A perfect double, save for the symbol on his chest. Instead of "God," the symbol means "Demon King."

Swiftly, the scene shifts to show the lone being raising his hands above round stones as the black djinn -- now his servant -- watches over him. As if by an unseen force or maybe magic, the stones begin to glow orange. Stars fill the seven stones, each stone holding from one to seven stars. The stones rise into the air... and soar off into the four corners of the Earth.

Another blur, another image flashes away, and finally images that actually tell a story.

'Tis the heart of the city in the middle of the rainy season, and yet the city is empty. The city had been evacuated only days before, and only a few certain people remain. One of them is a large and well-built man, and he alone stands guard of the building behind him, labeled "the Presidential Palace." The man has in one hand a long red staff, and in the other a small jar. His face is a dreamy blur; all that can be made out are his storm-grey eyes and his thick beard.

A boy -- not yet a man the sole reason for being called such -- rushes at the man, screaming "Sensei!" The man is startled but does nothing as the boy and his companion -- a boy in a similar gi -- run towards him.

"Mutaito-sensei, why must you do this?!" the boy speaks. The man does not answer immediately but instead places his hands on both the boys' heads, ruffling their hair.

"One day, my students, you will understand," he answers in his deep voice. "This is the only way. I am the only one who can do it."

"But it will kill you!" the boy replies. He does not cry, but the pain in his face is hard to ignore.

"Which is why you two, Roshi, Shen," he gestures towards the boy and his companion, "must continue my legacy. Train as you never have trained before. Teach those who show great strength and those who all others have given up on. Become the Turtle, become the Crane. You are the masters now."

"He is coming!" a voice in the distance yells before his voice trails off into a bloody scream. The boy called Shen yells, "Come on Roshi, we have to go!"

Roshi shakes his head no, and in his impatience Shen runs off, away to safety. Mutaito smiles at his brave student and for a moment considers on letting the boy stay with him.

But he is not as stupid as he looks.

"Roshi, you must leave this place. Run and do not look back."

Before Roshi could respond, Mutaito shoves the red staff into his hands. Roshi is shocked at his master's sudden action and looks up, not fully understanding.

"The ever-extending staff. Nyoi-Bo is yours, my student. You alone have proven yourself the best," he claims happily, "and so you alone are worthy of it, unlike your rival."

"But what must I do with it?" Roshi asks. Sure, he'd heard the rumors, the legends -- that God himself gave it away as humanity's lone chance of reaching him, but he wanted his master's interpretation.

"This staff is the key." He stared ahead, not at Roshi but instead at the buildings far away as he said this. "God himself gave it to me, long ago, telling me if I -- if we -- truly needed his help, as he knows we do, this staff would be the key to finding him. I don't know how or where, but I'm sure you may figure that out if I fail. Now... go!"

Roshi, tears finally in his eyes, follows his master's command. But as his master closes his eyes to calm himself, he hides atop a nearby hill to watch the battle.

Suddenly an explosion is heard. Then another. And then another. The houses before him start shattering, flying away, catching fire. Another explosion is heard. Suddenly, a robed being -- human-esque, yes, but TALL and with green skin -- takes a step forward. His face is masked, hidden by the hood of his robe, but on his chest is the symbol "Demon King." The being is flanked by creatures who all look like giant lizards, smirking, drooling, glaring evilly. They may well be his servants, his sons or his brothers. They all shared their master's green skin... and demonic aura.

"Step aside, human, or I will end you as well," the tallest being, the leader, spoke in his deep voice.

"I will not," Mutatio said calmly, extending his arm in front of him. With a casual flick, he sent one of the lizard creatures flying. With another flick, the creature explodes in a storm of blood.

"Another martial artist, huh?" one of the other lizard creatures snarled. He licked his lips. "You guys are so messy. You're no better than us. Heh heh, please let me go after him. Please..."

"No," the leader said. "This is the last step before I finally take over this diseased rock. I will handle him myself."

The other creatures whined in unison, but when the demon lowered his arms they all disintegrated, turned to ash.

"There. Now we have no more distraction," he said simply.

Mutaito hid the jar he held in his robes and took a defensive stance. The rain and the wind around them slightly flicked the green being's hood around, revealing an amused smile on his face. Suddenly, the two forces collided. Mutaito punched the demon's face, pushing it back a couple of steps. But the demon was taller than the average human, had a longer reach. With little effort in reach, he elbowed Mutaito in the face. With Mutaito then distracted by pain, he pushed Mutaito away.

Mutaito retaliated by attempting a jump kick, but the demon caught the kick in mid-air. As effortlessly as a child with a toy, he swung Mutaito around, scraping up dirt and mud as he casually tossed the martial arts master around. With a casual flick he threw the man into the air and lifted his arms. A blinding flash of light, a surge of electricity, and Mutaito fell to the ground, beaten, broken.

The demon chuckled softly, as if enjoying a private joke, and stepped closer to his beaten prey. He was about to end it, he could feel it. But then the man did something the demon did not intend for him to do.

He reached into his gi and pulled out the jar he held earlier. Draining much of his physical strength, he tossed it under the demon, then recited the magic words that would seal the demon away... along with his own life.


"What human trickery is this?" the demon wondered, looking down at the jar.


"Human power has failed before. It will fail again," the demon king said confidently.


A flash of green and yellow light, a horrified yell in the distance, and more blurs came and went as fast as ever.

A huge, beefy man bowed to his rival, recognizable and yet not so. The two charged each other as their kindly old master proudly watched on.

The old master, bearded, robed, wearing shades, bowed to the smaller of his students, handing to him the red staff his master had given him so long ago.

The young man, many years aged, stumbled upon a baby boy in the wilderness, a boy with porcupine quills for hair.

Both aged a dozen more years, now training atop clotheslines in the field outside their hut. An intense fight, despite the age of both competitors, was given. And though the boy was skilled -- able to keep up with the old man, fighting upside down -- the old man had simply to flick his wrist and the boy fell. The old man jumped off the wires and proudly helped the boy up, wiping the dirt from the spikes that were the boy's hair. Satisfied in the lad's growth, the man gave the staff to his grandson, telling him the same story told to him about the "key" and when he'd need it most.

The old man then pulled out of his pocket a stone, an orange stone with four stars glowing inside it. A gift, he said, for the boy's coming of age. A moment of happiness was felt, a tender moment that felt as if never to end.

Suddenly the image broke. A pair of blood red eyes glowed in the distance. A bloody roar, a primal scream. The moon was eclipsing the sun...

And so our hero wakes up.