AI Image: The afternoon bell at West City High rang with a metallic echo that rolled across the campus like a

Prompt

The afternoon bell at West City High rang with a metallic echo that rolled across the campus like a warning siren no one quite took seriously-at least, not until today. The school looked normal from the outside: cracked pavement baking under late sun, rows of lockers rattling as students shoved them shut, the smell of vending machine snacks and dust drifting through the hallways. But there was nothing normal about the group gathering in the courtyard. Because West City High had an exchange program this semester. And no one had fully processed what that meant until they arrived. Son Goku stood near the fountain, scratching the back of his head like he was waiting for lunch instead of a confrontation that could level half the campus. His orange gi had been replaced with a modified school uniform-jacket half-open, tie loosened, as if rules were something he could politely ignore without consequence. Across from him, leaning against a pillar like he owned the entire school, was Vegeta. Arms crossed. Expression sharp enough to cut glass. The school uniform looked almost offended to be on him. "This place is pathetic," Vegeta muttered. "They call this training?" Goku grinned. "I think it's kind of fun! You get to learn stuff and meet strong people!" Vegeta's eye twitched. "We are not here to 'meet people.'" Unfortunately for him, the universe rarely cared about his preferences. A gust of wind swept through the courtyard, bending trees slightly as a new presence stepped