In the vast expanse of Universe 6's Tournament arena, the air was tense as dust settled from Vegeta’s last assault. Cabba, the young Saiyan from Universe 6, staggered backward, struggling to withstand the unyielding strength of his elder. Vegeta’s expression remained hard, unrelenting, and every strike he delivered served as a lesson, a reminder of the power he had honed through years of training. Spectators from both universes leaned forward, captivated by each blow, feeling every shockwave that reverberated across the stands. Even Champa and Beerus were no longer lounging; their eyes were fixed on this match, each fully aware of the stakes and the pride of their respective Saiyan bloodlines.

Then, it happened—a burst of blinding blue light filled the arena, flooding it with a power so intense that even Vegeta paused, blinking against the glare. An ancient energy, thick and layered, pulsed through the air, setting the entire arena buzzing with an unsettling vibration. He felt a strange, inexplicable sense of recognition, like something on the edge of a memory, stirring faintly.

As the light began to fade, Vegeta’s sharp gaze zeroed in on the arena floor, where a figure stood in stark contrast to the settling dust. She was a woman—tall, silent, exuding an aura that commanded attention, even among gods. Iridescent white hair flowed past her shoulders, faintly shimmering as though infused with something celestial, and her tail of the same hue coiled behind her like a poised weapon. Her gaze, a piercing ocean blue, swept across the arena, sending an involuntary shiver down the spine of those who dared meet her eyes. Her expression was unreadable, a mask of chilling calm.

The armor she wore was no ordinary battle gear. It was a relic of another time, weathered and metallic, crafted in a style reminiscent of Saiyan tradition yet marked with etchings that gleamed faintly under the harsh lights—dragon scales, glistening silver inlays that hinted at power far older than any Saiyan present. Unlike the lightweight armor most wore, hers seemed forged for an ancient war, heavy with the weight of countless battles and untold burdens. Dark, jagged markings crawled up her wrists, hints of sinister energy barely visible against her skin, as if her very flesh bore the scars of something haunting.

The gods themselves were silent, shocked into stillness. Beerus narrowed his eyes, staring intently at the woman, and even Whis seemed uncertain, his typical smile absent as he studied her with a frown. For a split second, Vegeta caught something flickering across Beerus’s face—a sliver of recognition, or perhaps... fear. But as quickly as it came, the expression faded, masked by the god’s usual aloofness.

Cabba had unconsciously taken a step back, eyes wide with confusion and fear as he stared at the woman. But Vegeta held his ground, his jaw set in a hard line. That aura, the potent blend of Saiyan energy laced with something more… it was unmistakable. He had felt something similar, but never with this intensity. It was like standing before the eye of a storm barely contained.

Champa’s voice broke the silence, his tone laced with irritation as he glanced uneasily toward Beerus. “What... what is the meaning of this?” His eyes darted toward the mysterious figure, the confidence wavering in his expression. “Who dares interrupt our Tournament?”

The woman remained unfazed, her gaze cutting across the arena until it settled on Vegeta. Her eyes held an unsettling mix of detachment and depth, as if she saw beyond the present moment, beyond him, and into something unspoken. Her voice, when it came, was smooth, cold, yet it carried a weight that sliced through the silence.

"I am Pan Son of Universe Zero."

The crowd shifted uneasily, whispers breaking out among the spectators. Universe Zero? Vegeta’s brow furrowed; no such universe existed in the multiverse catalog, or at least none he had ever heard of. The gods exchanged uneasy glances, their own doubts reflected in their expressions.

Without waiting for a response, Pan lifted her hand, a bright yellow orb of energy forming within her palm, humming with a power that felt both destructive and final. She held it aloft, the energy coiling around her fingers like a serpent, its light illuminating her face in a way that cast deep shadows beneath her eyes.

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"Universe Zero is... no longer," she said, her voice cold and unyielding.

A chill coursed through the arena as the meaning of her words settled over them. Vegeta’s eyes narrowed, his mind racing as he took in the implications. Here was a Saiyan whose universe had been erased, her presence here an anomaly that defied all the rules of reality as he knew them. And yet, her energy told another story—a warning wrapped in power. Whatever tragedy had unfolded in Universe Zero, it had left this Pan standing as a survivor, marked by a darkness that even he could feel from across the arena.

The weight of her words and her ominous aura hung in the air, challenging every god, every fighter present.

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From across the arena, Cabba watched, his wide eyes shifting anxiously between Pan and Vegeta. He’d never seen Vegeta so visibly shaken, much less by a single figure’s arrival. Vegeta’s entire form was braced, his muscles coiled like a spring, his eyes fixed on this woman with an intensity Cabba couldn’t understand. To him, Pan Son was a stranger, an anomaly; but to Vegeta, she was something disturbingly familiar, a ghost from an uncharted past.

“Pan Son…” Vegeta murmured, the name slipping from his lips as if it held the key to unraveling her. The syllables scratched at his memory, conjuring impressions of battles, of instincts buried and half-remembered. The aura around her was Saiyan yet not—layered with something dark and primal, like a beast held in check by sheer will alone.

Champa’s derisive laughter broke the silence, drawing all eyes to him as he scoffed, “Universe Zero, you say?” His tone dripped with disbelief. “That’s impossible! Every universe is accounted for—there’s no such thing as Universe Zero!”

Pan’s gaze slid toward him, her eyes narrowing slightly, a subtle yet icy shift that immediately silenced him. The sheer weight of her presence, that unsettling calm, radiated through the arena, sending a chill even through the Destroyers. Champa’s bravado faltered, and the sneer on his face faded.

“Impossible or not,” she replied, her voice as unyielding and sharp as steel, “it is my truth. I am the last remnant of Universe Zero, and I am here for a purpose.”

Her words cast a dark pall over the arena, a heavy sense of uncertainty that rippled through the crowd. Beerus exchanged a glance with Whis, his suspicion evident, yet he remained silent, studying Pan with an intensity usually reserved for a threat. His tail flicked behind him, a rare signal of his own unease.

Vegeta’s mind churned, trying to piece together her origins, her purpose. Her power, her name, the aura that clung to her like a shadow—all of it pulled at the edges of his understanding, scratching at instincts he hadn’t known he’d had. But amid his questions, he felt an unsettling sense of foreboding. She was no ordinary Saiyan, no mere warrior. Her aura bore the weight of a struggle unlike any he had ever sensed—a haunting, relentless darkness forged from untold suffering.

At last, Beerus’s voice cut through the thick tension, probing yet wary. “You’re saying that your universe was destroyed?” His golden eyes narrowed, demanding answers. “By what? Or… by whom?”

Pan looked down at the orb cradled in her hand, her face unreadable, as though lost in the memory of a terrible past. A silence stretched, heavy and charged, every spectator waiting, breathless.

“Myself,” she replied, her voice barely more than a whisper, yet it carried through the arena with a weight that stilled even the gods. Her gaze lifted to meet Beerus’s, unflinching, almost challenging, as if daring him to question her choice.

A shockwave of disbelief surged through the crowd, and even Vegeta felt his breath catch, his thoughts racing to grasp the gravity of her confession. To destroy an entire universe—such power, such darkness, was almost incomprehensible.

“Explain yourself,” he demanded, his voice colder than intended, sharp as steel. His gaze bore into her, seeking answers. “How could you destroy an entire universe?”

Pan’s eyes flicked to him, holding his gaze for a moment that felt like an eternity. She examined him with an unsettling calm, the light glinting in her ocean-blue eyes like frost on a blade. Finally, she spoke, her words a quiet challenge, edged with a subtle, dangerous amusement.

"Would you like to fight and find out, Vegeta?" Her tone was almost taunting, carrying the unmistakable weight of a test. "I would like to see if you truly live up to the title of Prince of all Saiyans, as you did in my universe. I wonder if that pride of yours holds across all realities."

The words hung between them, daring and piercing. Vegeta felt a spark ignite deep within him, one he hadn’t felt in years—a challenge that went beyond power, beyond rivalry. This was a test of his very essence, of what it meant to be Saiyan, to be prince.