C1: Gambit

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The throne room of Planet Vegeta pulsed with the quiet, oppressive weight of despair. Saiyan warriors stood at attention, their spines rigid, their faces blank, hiding the fear simmering beneath their hard exteriors. The air was thick with unspoken tension, a foreboding quiet that promised doom. They all knew the truth-the end was coming.

At the head of the chamber, King Vegeta sat upon his throne, a looming silhouette, his brows furrowed in contemplation. His crimson cape fell around his shoulders like blood spilled on the battlefield, and his jet-black hair, streaked with faint silver, barely concealed the weight of his secret burden. He had been the pride of the Saiyans, their greatest ruler. Yet, now, his legacy would be remembered not as the king who led them to victory, but as the one who presided over their annihilation.

Frieza.

The tyrant's name hung like a death sentence over the Saiyan race. King Vegeta knew the truth. He had seen it in Frieza's serpent eyes, felt it in the false kindness that disguised the emperor's cruelty. The day was coming-soon, the Saiyans would burn. Frieza would erase their entire race, just as he had so many others.

But King Vegeta, for all his pride and ambition, would not sit idle and watch his people march toward extinction. He would fight back, not with brute force or defiance-those would only hasten their destruction-but with cunning. And so, a plan was born, whispered in the shadows of the throne room, carried only to those with the strength and will to see it through.

The King called it Exodus-02, a secret project that would give the Saiyans a second chance.

At his signal, the great chamber doors groaned open. The sound echoed like the churning of a storm. Into the hall stepped ten of the finest Saiyans, each chosen not only for their strength, but for their loyalty, intelligence, and the potential to lead a new era. Their footsteps were heavy, their boots pounding the stone floors, their battle-worn armor glinting under the dim light of the chamber.

"Welcome, my chosen few," King Vegeta began, his voice low but carrying an unmistakable authority. His eyes scanned each of them with an intensity that betrayed his confidence in the task at hand. "You stand here because you are the best of us. But what I am about to ask will test you in ways no war, no battlefield ever could."

The warriors stood in silent attention. Among them was Surius, a tall, broad-shouldered Saiyan with cold, calculating eyes and a mane of wild, raven hair. Known as "The Shadow of the King," Surius had long served as King Vegeta's most trusted advisor and assassin. To his right stood Ragus, the fiercest general in the Saiyan army, his massive frame covered in scars that told of countless victories. His fiery red hair blazed against his black armor, and his power radiated in barely-contained surges. Others included Caiya, a deadly warrior whose speed was unrivaled, and Parash, a tactical genius who commanded legions with precision and care.

King Vegeta rose from his throne, his cape sweeping the floor as he descended the steps toward them. His voice grew darker. "Frieza will destroy us. It is not a question of 'if,' but 'when.' Our strength, our pride-it means nothing in the face of his power. We cannot defeat him head-on. But the Saiyan race must survive. That is why I have summoned you."

He let his words hang in the air, watching as the realization began to settle in. None of them flinched. They had all suspected something like this. They had all felt the weight of Frieza's growing shadow. But to hear their king, their mighty and unyielding leader, speak of inevitable defeat...it made the looming threat all the more real.

"Surius," King Vegeta said, turning to his advisor. "You know what I ask of you."

Surius stepped forward, his dark eyes gleaming with determination. "To create a future beyond Frieza's reach."

"Yes," the king confirmed. "Exodus-02 is the last hope for our people. I have chosen a distant planet, uncharted, where the Saiyans can rebuild, far from Frieza's eyes. It will be your mission to lead a select group there-warriors, engineers, scholars-those who can lay the foundations of a new Saiyan civilization."

"And if Frieza finds us?" General Ragus rumbled, his voice a deep growl.

"Then you fight, as only Saiyans can," King Vegeta said grimly. "But the priority is survival, not conquest."

Caiya, with her lithe frame and piercing green eyes, interjected. "How will we ensure the strongest survive? Frieza will hunt us to the ends of the universe if he even suspects treachery."

King Vegeta nodded, expecting this question. "That is why Exodus-02 will appear as though it is a failure. I will allow Frieza to destroy our world. But by the time he does, you will already be gone, a memory-vanished, forgotten. That is how we survive."

A hush fell over the room as the weight of his words sank in. Their king would sacrifice Planet Vegeta, their home, to save their race.

"I will remain here," King Vegeta continued, his eyes flashing with defiance. "To face Frieza myself. My pride will not allow me to run. But you, my chosen warriors-you will carry the future of the Saiyan race on your backs. It is your duty, your burden, and your honor."

The warriors stood taller now, their resolve hardening. Even Ragus, the most battle-hardened of them all, bowed his head in respect. This was not a mission of cowardice-it was the ultimate act of strength, a gambit to outwit a power that even Saiyans could not overcome.

Surius was the first to speak. "We will not fail you, King Vegeta. Exodus-02 will be the dawn of a new Saiyan age. Frieza will never know we existed."

King Vegeta clasped Surius' shoulder firmly. "Go then. Prepare your people. The Exodus begins at dawn."

The ten warriors turned in unison, marching out of the throne room with purpose, their footsteps fading into the silence. As the doors closed behind them, King Vegeta allowed himself a moment of vulnerability, his eyes drifting to the distant stars visible through the chamber's high windows.

Frieza would come soon.

But by then, Exodus-02 would be gone, a fleeting ghost in the galaxy. The Saiyans would live on.

"May the Saiyan race never die," he whispered to the emptiness.

Outside, as Surius led his group into the night, a deep rumble shook the planet, as if Vegeta itself knew its time was coming. But beneath the surface, where the chosen few were preparing for departure, the seeds of a new beginning had already taken root.

The Saiyan race would not be extinguished by Frieza's wrath.

It would be reborn.


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