The mysterious figure continued his grim journey, his dragon skull gliding over the smoldering remains of the village he had destroyed. The wind howled through the empty streets as ash drifted upward, a haunting reminder of his presence. The glowing jars containing the stolen hearts were now gone, transported to the unknown through his glitching portal. With his purpose still shrouded in secrecy, he pressed onward, his path weaving through mountains and plains.
Eventually, his journey brought him to the outskirts of a bustling city—a sharp contrast to the desolation he had left behind. The streets were alive with people, cars honking, and the hum of daily life. From a distance, he paused, observing this new environment.
His darkened green-and-blue eyes scanned the horizon, as if weighing his next move. His presence, though devoid of ki, exuded a quiet but palpable unease. He stepped off the floating dragon skull, which vanished into thin air with a faint crackle of glitching energy. Standing tall amidst the open fields, his expression remained unreadable as he began walking toward the city, his hands in his jacket pockets.
Meanwhile, a familiar energy signature flickered nearby. Someone had been tracking the destruction in the region, sensing the imbalance caused by the strange events. A lone figure stood atop a distant hill, their silhouette illuminated by the setting sun.
This was no ordinary human. This was a Z Fighter, drawn by the devastation and the absence of life energy that now plagued the area. As the mysterious figure approached the city's edge, they intercepted him, descending swiftly to confront the threat.
The wind grew still as the two figures stood face to face, an unspoken tension hanging in the air. The Z Fighter spoke first, their tone firm and commanding, seeking answers to the destruction.