Dragon Ball if I was Goku

44 Years Earlier

The white cafeteria stretched endlessly, filled with women in the ceremonial white tunics that marked them as Overseers. Through crystalline windows, the void of space between worlds swirled in patterns, galaxies being born and dying in the span of heartbeats.

Three beautiful women sat at one of the countless tables. The most striking among them possessed legs that seemed to go on forever, toned and elegant. Her hips were beautifully framed by the revealing sides of her tunic, while her full breasts pressed against the ethereal fabric, the thin material doing little to conceal their perfect shape. Platinum blonde hair cascaded down her back like liquid moonlight. Her piercing blue eyes, framed by long pale lashes, stared at nothing, bored, distant, almost lifeless.

"Aionia!"

She twitched slightly, as if remembering she existed. A gracious, elegant smile traced across her lips, perfect in its execution, empty in its sincerity.

"Yes?"

"Ahh! You weren't listening!" her companion pouted.

"I apologize. What were you saying?" Aionia's voice was silk over steel.

"I said, you're in charge of a newly reincarnated soul? Why the change? Your last one was only... what, five years into their life?"

"Oh, yes." Aionia examined her perfect nails. "I've already started the cleansing. I prefer to rotate souls every five years or so. It prevents... attachment."

"You're so professional! I truly admire you, Aionia!" The girl leaned in. "I get attached to my souls sometimes. I even... I even appear in their dreams occasionally."

The third girl gasped. "What?! That's forbidden! To feel for a soul, let alone interfere with it! Are you insane?!"

"It was just once!"

"If you'll excuse me," Aionia rose fluidly, "the cleansing should be nearly complete. Time for reincarnation."

She walked away with measured confidence, each step making her body move in ways that drew envious stares. Once out of earshot, her perfect smile twisted into disgust.

"Imbeciles. How could anyone get attached to those mere lower beings?"

*If I change souls regularly, it's because these pathetic creatures are boring. To avoid going insane from the tedium, I trade them out... like accessories.*

Aionia had successfully monitored hundreds of thousands of souls over millennia. She was considered elite among her peers, respected, admired. But after eons of watching the same struggles, the same dreams, the same deaths, she'd grown to despise them all.

Regular humans struggling with their mundane lives. Ninjas fighting over villages. Pirates searching for treasure. Wizards battling dark lords. Superheroes saving cities. Pilots in giant robots. Demon slayers with their breathing techniques. Studnt cursed energy, or spiritual pressure, or stands, or nen, or chakra, or ki...

*All the same. All boring. All beneath me.*

And now she'd been assigned another human on Planet Earth, the most tedious of all worlds. No magic. No powers. Just ordinary, pathetic mortality.

She passed hundreds of doors, each one containing a monitoring station for a soul somewhere in the infinite multiverse. The corridor seemed to stretch into eternity, billions upon billions of rooms for billions upon billions of lives.

Finally, she reached her new assignment. Her name materialized on the door in gleaming letters, with the soul's designation beneath: *3UNX1X1*.

The room inside was pristine white like everything else. A white desk dominated one wall with a monitor currently dark. To the right stood the Cleansing Engine, an intricate construction of glass tubes and rotating mechanisms that looked like a fusion between a washing machine and a particle accelerator. At its heart, suspended in a containment field, floated a soul. It pulsed with soft blue light, shaped like an inverted teardrop, rotating slowly.