300 Years Later
The storm over Earth's southern pole raged with an icy fury. Winds howled across the glacier's surface, tearing at snowdrifts and rattling the metal panels of a sleek, capsule-shaped transport ship nestled into the ice. The craft bore the insignia of Capsule Corporation, its blue-and-white logo flickering faintly in the swirling snow.
Inside, warmth hummed through the cabin as scientific equipment beeped and buzzed, their readings pulsing on screens. At the center of it all stood Dr. Briefs, gray-haired, mustached, and wrapped in a heavy winter coat layered over his lab attire. His pipe dangled from his mouth, smoke curling lazily upward as he reviewed the strange artifact before him.
Encased in thick layers of ancient ice was something he never expected to find—a smooth, metallic pod, half-buried, covered in glowing alien runes that pulsed faintly like a sleeping heartbeat.
Dr. Briefs leaned in closer, adjusting his glasses. The outer shell was almost entirely intact despite the centuries it had likely spent entombed in the ice. No rust. No corrosion. Just a quiet, steady thrum of energy.
"Well, I'll be damned," he muttered. "I've never seen tech this advanced. Not from Earth, not from the Beast Men territories... not even the remnants from the old alien crash sites. This is... something new."
He reached for a handheld scanner and began running it across the surface of the pod. Readouts blinked rapidly, but none of them made sense. The language etched into the surface didn't match anything in Capsule Corp's databases. The energy signature it emitted was stable—but nothing like anything he'd ever studied.
The ice groaned as heat lasers carefully cut through the layers. The outer shell of the pod hissed in protest as the warmth reached its core, steam billowing in waves.
Suddenly, one of the machines chirped loudly. Energy spike.
"Uh-oh."
The pod's inner lights blinked on—slowly at first, then in rapid succession. The hum turned into a low, vibrating pulse. Steam burst from its vents. The glowing runes began to pulse faster, as if something inside had sensed the change.
Dr. Briefs took a cautious step back. "Easy now…"
With a loud hiss and sudden crack, the pod's top split open, and a surge of steam poured out into the cold air. A moment later, the figure of a young man collapsed out of the pod and onto the icy ground.
Dr. Briefs rushed forward. "Whoa there!"
The boy was unconscious, pale-skinned, his black hair frosted with ice crystals. Despite the cold, his body radiated a subtle heat. Dr. Briefs quickly checked for a pulse and found it—steady, strong, and strangely resilient for someone who'd been frozen for centuries.
"Definitely alive. That's... something."
With some effort, he and his assistant crew carefully moved the boy onto a stretcher and brought him aboard the transport.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hours passed.
Inside the Capsule Corp Arctic Research Outpost, the boy now lay on a reinforced examination table under the soft glow of overhead lights. Machines scanned his body, displaying baffling results. His muscle density exceeded human parameters by a ridiculous degree. His bones might as well have been laced with the strongest metals known to man, since they seemed unbreakable. His brain activity fluctuated between dormant and hyperactive.
Dr. Briefs sat nearby, sipping tea now in place of his pipe, flipping through holographic scans.
"He's not human," he said to himself. "Not a Beast Man. Not from Earth. Not like anything I've ever seen. The pod wasn't just stasis—it was a full-body preservation chamber. Whoever made it didn't want this boy waking up until the exact right moment."
A soft beep.
Then another.
The boy stirred.
Dr. Briefs looked up just as the young man's eyes slowly opened.
The boy blinked several times, adjusting to the light. His breath hitched. Then his entire body tensed.
In one smooth, instinctive motion, he sat up.
The table groaned beneath him.
Crack.
Boom.
The reinforced steel snapped, the table shattered beneath his sudden surge of strength, and fragments of metal scattered across the lab.
Dr. Briefs shielded himself from flying debris. "Great Scott!"
The boy dropped to the floor, chest heaving, eyes scanning wildly. His feet hit the ground with a soft thud that left cracks in the reinforced tile.
"Hey now, easy there," Dr. Briefs said, raising both hands in a calming gesture. "You're safe. You're in a lab, not a battlefield."
The boy's breathing slowed slightly, but his muscles remained coiled like springs. Then he spoke—his voice rough, uncertain.
"…Where am I?"
"Earth," Dr. Briefs replied. "Southern pole, to be exact. I found your pod buried in ice. Been out for a while, haven't you?"
The boy blinked. "…Pod?" He turned and looked at the remains of the stasis chamber visible through the lab's observation window.
Dr. Briefs nodded. "You were in stasis for a long time. Best guess? A few hundred years. You've been a very well-kept secret under the planet's ice cap."
The boy said nothing. His hand went to his chest. Then his eyes narrowed as he looked at his arms, his fists, the shattered remains of the table.
"I don't remember anything," he said at last. "I don't know who I am."
From the hallway came the sound of boots on tile. A familiar voice followed.
"Dad? What the heck did you blow up this time?"
Bulma stepped into the lab, freezing in place at the sight of the wreckage, the half-dressed stranger standing barefoot amid the debris, and her father holding a cup of tea like this was all normal.
"…What did I miss?" she asked flatly.
Dr. Briefs smiled. "Meet our guest. He's been asleep for a few centuries, and he's very, very strong."
The boy turned toward her. His expression shifted. Something about her struck a chord—faint, distant. He didn't know her. But something in his instincts told him she mattered.
Bulma looked him up and down, and for a brief second, her annoyed expression faltered. Her eyes lingered on the sharp lines of his jaw, the defined muscles beneath the tattered remnants of his uniform, and the strange intensity in his gaze.
He looked wild, powerful… and oddly handsome.
She cleared her throat and flipped her hair casually. "Well, isn't he cute."
Dr. Briefs raised an eyebrow. "Bulma..."
"What? I'm just saying, if we're going to bring aliens back to life, might as well be cute ones."