An extraordinary handful of highly dedicated men and women had for years and years and years—in fact, for almost five decades—guarded the sparkling blue jewel of Sol’s family from evil’s terrible clutch.

    They had stopped savage aliens from turning the heavenly body into a wasteland, and saved the universe from a ruthless tyrant obsessed with achieving ultimate power.  They had stopped a crazed monster from opening the doors to the demon world and enslaving all of Earth’s inhabitants.  They had halted the bloody conquest of a maniacal android bent on destroying everything and attaining perfection.  They had ended the reign of terror imposed by a creature of unthinkable evil and power created for the purpose of obliterating everything in the cosmos.  They had vanquished an extraterrestrial, parasitic, vengeful creature thirsty for their and Earth’s demise.  They had stopped a super-android sent to pick-up where his predecessor left off.  They had stopped seven dragons, practically gods, from causing unthinkable horrors.  And they had survived.

    Along the way they had sacrificed everything: their pride, their lives, and their families.  They had lost everything in the titanic struggles: their planet, their friends, and their place in the universe.  But they had always emerged victorious, regaining their place in the universe, their friends, and their planet, and earning back their families, their lives, and their pride.

    Through all of the years, all of the battles, all of the pain, all of the sorrow, all of the death, all of the destruction, all of the triumph, they had survived, although they had been scathed, bloody, and exhausted when they had emerged.  But they had always been on top at the end.  Nothing had ever crushed their spirit, and thus nothing had ever crushed them.

    Radditz.  Nappa.  Freeza.  Garlic Junior.  Cell.  Buu.  Bebi.  Super Android Seventeen.  The Evil Shenlons.  To name a few.  Victory.  Victory.  Victory.  Victory.  Victory.  Victory.  Victory.  Victory.  Victory.  Always.

    The universe had finally decided that they had proven themselves; no further testing was required to establish their undeniable status among the highest order of creatures.  They had earned a place in the stars.  They had shown their courage, unfaltering drive to conquer injustice and evil, and most commendable honor.  They had refused to let the world be governed by any principle but Good.

    They had earned a long, peaceful retirement.  But all things come at a price, despite any show of worth.  Their leader, mentor, idol, and dear friend had to leave them, possibly forever, on the back of the dragon that had never failed to serve as their insurance against annihilation.

    But everything was okay.  They were safe.  The world was safe.  The universe was safe.  No evil was left to plague them or anyone else.  The struggles were forever over.  The universe decided so.  There could not be any threats left anywhere.  Peace had been established.

    The huge dust cloud of battle still hung in the air, staining it a filthy brown, obscuring the sun.  A gentle breeze, a refreshing reminder of life, slowly carried the particles away.  They looked on, anxious.  In the past, the dust cloud would invariably only provide false hope that the enemy was gone.  This time they were sure that nothing would be left to challenge them; it was a very comforting thought, one that actually soothed old, sore muscles.  The last of the dust drifted away to the thunder of war echoes.  Their eyes took in a surprising view.  Despite all of the mental preparations, it was still a remarkable sight.