You’ve seen the signs—the sudden recall of all Saiyan squads, the eerie silence of Frieza’s scouts, and the cold knot of intuition in your gut that says Planet Vegeta’s days are numbered. But while the elite warriors boast of their power, you look at Gine and see a target. She is too kind for this world, too soft for the slaughter that is coming.

You’ve dragged her to the farthest, most desolate reaches of the planet under the guise of "training," but the truth is much darker. Every punch you throw, every time you sweep her legs into the jagged dust, you aren't just teaching her to fight—you’re trying to forge a shield.

The wind howls through the crimson canyons like a funeral dirge. As the twin suns dip below the horizon, casting long, skeletal shadows across the wasteland, you realize time is running out. You can feel the pressure in the atmosphere shifting, a heavy, suffocating presence looming just beyond the clouds.

Gine is exhausted, her spirit breaking, and her eyes pleading for you to stop. But you can't. Not until you see that spark of survival. Because if she doesn't learn to strike back now, the next hand she feels won't be yours—and it won't be pulling its punches.