BY : Felix_McKraken
Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male
Dragon prints: 1872
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball Z or any of the characters. This was made purely for entertainment purposes and no profit is made off of it.

Nowhere: 88888888

He stumbled on some piece of metal protruding from the massive pile of junk he was crawling across. He tried to regain his balance and normally would have if it wasn't for his depleted strength. He hadn't had nourishment in a long while - too long for a Saiyan. He crashed unceremoniously and sat breathing. Sweat soaked his clothes and he dully thought a hot bath would be nice. In fact, it'd be nice if he had water to drink. Apparently though, this planet wanted to give the bare minimum. Air. That's all he had. Air. If he didn't get food soon, he knew he was in trouble.

Struggling to his feet, he continued his trek to the opposite side of the garbage heap. Maybe there was civilisation on his planet, he told himself. Yes, it's possible. You can be stranded and just be out of visual range of others.

On the other hand, people have chi, no matter how low.
And he could not feel any chi.

There was no chi
around him
and no chi
radiating from

Vegeta shook his head. He extended his senses - reaching, searching. Where were the animals? No matter which direction he focused, or how far, it was all blank. What was this? Could it possibly be a planet for sale lacking life forms? That was a dangerous route to undertake, as destroying species of animal meant a guaranteed death of vegetation. It detracted from the value, so it was no longer common practice.

And since he was sitting in a junk yard on a mound of garbage that implied someone had dumped it here. The trash was fairly advanced technology as he glanced at it. Some of the parts even seemed to be from recent models of pods. Surely, someone owned this plot of land since scrap like this was valuable. With his resolve renewed, the prince stood. Just across the next hill there would be an open field leading up to a city, or a roadway. Maybe he'd even find someone out there scrounging through this mess.

Yeah, he'd be ok.

Then why did he feel so sick to his stomach?

Why did he have this deep-seated dread whenever he glossed over his surroundings? It likened to the sensation of being watched – that malevolent hint that tints one's perception with anxiety. Involuntarily, he shivered as cold wind blew against his damp body. He paused for only a moment before continuing on. How far was he now from the remains of his capsule? With no communication, food, or water, how long would he survive?


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