Reborn as the saiyan omni-king

I couldn't argue with that. "Alright, alright," I said with a chuckle, "You stink like a Skarlanian swamp rat that's been marinating in the void for a few centuries. You need a bath and some new threads." I snapped my fingers, and a spell rippled through the air, surrounding her. The stench of stale power vanished, replaced by the faint scent of ozone and fresh-cut flowers. Her torn and tattered rags transformed into dark blue and black robes, the material shimmering like the edge of a black hole. Red triangles, the symbol of the Primal Hado, adorned her chest and sleeves, and a silver headband with the same emblem encircled her forehead and cheeks, giving her an edgy, almost punk-rock look that somehow suited her.

"And for your ears," I said, holding out the blue Potara earrings with a flourish, "these babies will keep you looking fresh while we kick some celestial ass."

Erebus took the earrings, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "Thanks, babe," she said, slipping them on with a wink. "Now, let's talk shop. You've been playing Omni King for what, a week and a half in human years?"

"Closer to a thousand," I corrected her, rolling my eyes.

"Pft," she scoffed, "same difference. You're still green behind the ears. I've got eons of experience under my belt—or in this case, my new robe—so let's put that to good use."

The air between us crackled with energy as we delved into the complexities of ruling the multiverse. It was like we'd known each other for millennia, finishing each other's sentences and sharing a laugh over the absurdity of our existence. Despite her tainted nature, there was a comfort in her presence, a reminder of the fiery passion that had driven me to conquer the heavens.

As we plotted our cosmic domination, I realized that Erebus wasn't just a powerful ally; she was a mirror to my own soul—broken and reborn in the image of chaos and power. Together, we could be unstoppable.

"But first," I said, leaning back in my throne, "I need to check in on my little protege."

Her expression darkened for a moment, the playfulness draining away like water from a dried-up riverbed. "Ah, the child," she murmured, a hint of jealousy in her voice.

"Don't worry," I assured her, patting her on the shoulder, "there's more than enough power to go around. Besides, I've got a feeling this kid's gonna be something special."

We strode through the Palace, our footsteps echoing through the vast halls that stretched into infinity. The creation room was a chamber of wonders, a place where I could shape the very fabric of existence with a thought. The room was alive with holographic images of planets, stars, and galaxies—my canvas, my playground.

As we approached the holographic projection of the burgeoning planet, I couldn't help but feel a surge of pride. It was a miniature version of what would become Planet Vegeta, a world ripe with potential. The child I had imbued with extraordinary power was but a speck in the vast landscape, yet his aura was a beacon that outshone the others.

"Look at him," Erebus said, her voice filled with a mix of awe and envy. "Already a leader among his peers."

Indeed, the young Saiyan was growing up fast. His battles were legendary, even among the primitive society that had yet to taste the vastness of the cosmos. He fought with a ferocity that was both mesmerizing and terrifying, leaving his opponents bruised and broken in his wake. The commanders watched him with a mix of admiration and fear, not knowing what to make of this prodigy who could one day threaten their own dominance.

Yet, unlike Broly, this child had been born into a world where his strength was revered, not feared. There would be no exile for him. He was the embodiment of the new era we sought to usher in—a time when power was the currency of the gods.

Erebus's eyes narrowed as she studied the hologram, her mind racing with possibilities. "He'll be a valuable asset," she said, her voice a seductive purr. "But we must be careful not to let him become too powerful. Even in a world that worships strength, a king must always keep his pawns in check."

"Fear not," I said, a wry smile playing on my lips. "I have a plan for him."

 reached out, my hand passing through the holographic surface as if it were water. The image rippled, and the child grew before our eyes, a Saiyan in miniature. His emerald eyes sparkled with a fierce intelligence, and his wild hair stood on end, much like my own when I was young.

"We shall mold him," I said, my voice filled with determination. "We shall shape him into the blade that cuts through the cosmos, a beacon of our might, a testament to our reign."

Erebus nodded, a cruel smile spreading across her face. "And when the time is right, we'll unleash him," she whispered, "and watch the stars tremble before our combined might."

The child, oblivious to the fate we were crafting for him, continued to grow and learn, his power a beacon in the endless night of the early universe. His story was but one of countless others we would write in our quest to reshape the multiverse, but it was one that held a special place in my heart—a reflection of the potential that had once been in me.

"Ah, the new Kai system," Erebus mused as we strode through the corridors of the Palace. "An intriguing idea, my love. But tell me, how is our dear Solara faring in her role as Supreme Guardian?"

Her tone was a blend of genuine curiosity and sly mockery—a tone that seemed to resonate with the very fabric of the cosmos. I knew she was baiting me, eager to see if Solara had met the same fate as her former angelic kin. But I was confident in my creation.