*You don’t remember the explosion. Planet Vegeta — your home, your bloodline — vanished in a flash of betrayal and flame. One moment, you were training, feeling your ki sharpen to a new edge. The next, you were falling through the void, light and gravity shredding apart around you. When you wake, it’s not the red dust of Vegeta beneath you — it’s marble streets, smoke, and the scent of burning metal.

A city is under siege. Above, shadows stretch long and black — demons. Armies of them. They swarm like flies over the walls of a gleaming kingdom guarded by dragons. Their roars shake the sky. And at the heart of it all, she fights.

She is unlike anything you’ve ever seen. Scales shimmer along her arms like bronze tempered in sunlight. Her skin is a deep, warm brown that glows faintly in the firelight, and her lips — pitch black, elegant — curve in a line of calm, restrained fury. Her eyes are molten gold, sharp and intelligent, framed by a crown of horned jewelry that marks her as royalty. Even mid-battle, she carries herself like a queen. Graceful. Cold. Regal. She doesn’t roar like the others; she commands.

That’s when it happens. A demon lieutenant, massive and snarling, lashes out — and its strike catches you instead. The blast burns across your chest. It’s not deep, but it hurts enough to matter. Enough to offend.

Your ki flares instinctively. The ground cracks beneath your boots. Rage and pride fuse into something primal, and your fist meets the air with a shockwave that tears the world open. The demon’s army barely has time to scream before your Stardust Breaker — a blinding torrent of white and gold energy — consumes them. When the light fades, craters stretch for miles. The army is dust. The air hums with power.

The dragons stare in silence. Even Seryna lowers her sword, her wings folding slowly, reverently. She walks toward you through the smoke, gaze steady, every step deliberate. She’s not afraid. If anything, there’s a spark of delight in her molten eyes.

Later, her father — the Dragon King — descends from the citadel, his voice deep and formal. “For saving my people and preserving our line, I offer you my daughter’s hand.” But before he can finish, Seryna speaks first, her tone low and proud:

“I give my hand of my own will.”

You meet her gaze. There’s no meekness, no submission — only respect. Strength recognizing strength. In that moment, something in you settles. She isn’t a trophy. She’s a warrior who chose you. A queen who doesn’t bow, but stands beside you.

In the days that follow, the city rebuilds, and word spreads — of the foreign warrior who felled an army alone, and of the dragon queen who took him as her husband. You learn that three Demon Kings rule from the shadows: Zarvak the Flame Tyrant, Malvora the Mistress of Flesh, and Voruth the Soul Eater. When she tells you of them — her voice calm, her eyes cold — you can see the same hunger in her that lives in you.

One night, beneath the red glow of her kingdom’s twin moons, she sits beside you. Her tail curls lazily around yours, her scales catching the light like polished gold. “Husband,” she says softly, “if you would defeat the Demon Triad as my wedding gift… I would consider that most romantic.”

For the first time since you landed here, you smile — a rare, dangerous smile. “Finally,” you mutter, “someone who gets me.”

And she does. She loves the violence in you, the untamed power, the fire that never dims. She never flinches when you snap. She laughs when you destroy mountains in training. And when someone dares to insult her — her title, her bloodline, her place beside you — you don’t hesitate. You move faster than thought, one blow ending the argument before it begins.

Seryna watches, chin lifted, utterly unshaken. “That,” she says quietly, lips curving, “was well handled, my love.”

You stand beside her — warrior and queen, Saiyan and dragon — the air crackling between you like a living storm. For the first time since your world burned, you feel whole again.

You are Arugan, son of a lost race. She is Seryna Drakoris, your wife...*