**The Dust Devil screamed.** Not the smooth whine of efficient engines, but a high-pitched shriek of tortured metal as the ship plunged into Aethelgard’s embrace. Violent shudders pulsed through the deck plating, rattling Mori’s teeth in her skull. Outside the viewports, the universe dissolved into a blinding inferno of scarlet plasma that roared and pulsed against the transparisteel, threatening to melt it away. The ship bucked, throwing Gogeta hard against his harness, a sharp gasp of pain escaping him.
Akim’s voice crackled, tight with strain, over the intercom. *“Thermic shear—! Fighting… gravity shear… heavy!”* Sweat plastered strands of hair to his forehead as he wrestled the controls, knuckles white. The ship dropped sickeningly, then surged sideways as he fought to maintain their trajectory.
Through a momentary swirl in the plasma storm, Mori glimpsed the world below. Not the dull reds and browns of standard desert worlds, but impossible vibrancy. Continents laid out like maps of gold leaf and emerald silk. Rivers weren't just water; they were ribbons of pulsing turquoise light weaving through forests whose fractal canopies shimmered with a thousand shifting colours. Far off, mountains sculpted from what looked like solid moonlight pierced clouds that drifted like luminous, iridescent jellyfish. Dominating the horizon, a city floated among those clouds, a structure so vast it defied perspective.
Gogeta squinted, his good eye watering from the strain. *“Flashy,”* he muttered, the word costing him a pained breath.
Mori barely heard him. Her face was pressed close to the viewport, eyes wide. *"It's... like the star-songs Uncle Zeelthar described!"* She felt a lightness bubble up inside her, a seven-year-old's awe pushing aside the mission's grim weight.
A harsh grunt came from the back. Domo shifted his weight, the deck creaking ominously. His slit pupils briefly scanned the incandescent display outside before fixing on a scuff mark on his own massive boot. *"Glitter,"* he rumbled. *"Means nothing."*
---
**The violent shaking began to ease** as they punched through the upper atmospheric layers. The roar outside softened to a powerful rush of wind. Akim let out a ragged sigh of relief. *"Okay... vector locked on LZ Alpha coordinates... south desert ruins. Should be..."*
He trailed off. Below them, the landscape resolved further – elegant spires spiraling skyward, gracefully curved towers veined with purple crystal light, floating gardens spilling over balconies. There was no sign of desert ruins anywhere near their projected landing zone. *"Command coordinates are off,"* Akim muttered, frustration edging his voice. *"Where is LZ Alpha?"*
As he spoke, something large swooped towards the *Dust Devil*. It wasn't another ship. It possessed six powerful wings feathered in shimmering, prismatic hues, catching the amber sunlight in dazzling bursts. Its head was sleek, avian, with intelligent, sapphire-blue eyes that seemed to assess the Saiyan vessel without fear. It let out a series of melodic, flute-like calls that resonated strangely through the hull.
From the back, Domo tensed. Mori saw his hand twitch, a faint green crackle of energy sparking around his knuckles for a split second. *"Pest,"* he growled low in his throat.
But the creature didn't attack. It banked gracefully, circling the *Dust Devil* once, then angled its flight path directly towards the colossal, sky-borne citadel. It glanced back, emitting another series of encouraging calls.
*"Pilot,"* Altos' calm voice cut in. *"That creature... it appears to be guiding us. Its flight path is steady, directed towards the main structure."*
Akim watched it, fingers hovering over the controls. *"Standard procedure is to stick to assigned coordinates, Super Elite Altos..."*
*"Standard procedure didn't account for faulty coordinates or... local escorts,"* Altos replied. *"Follow it, Pilot Akim. Let's see where it leads."*
Akim nodded, easing the throttle. *"Following the... uh... bird-thing."*
The six-winged creature led them on a breathtaking path. They skimmed over lakes like polished silver, soared past arches that seemed spun from moonlight, and dodged through canyons formed by towering, crystal-veined buildings. The creature moved with effortless grace, its calls echoing musically around them. Finally, it guided them towards a vast, open terrace high on the citadel, circling once above a gleaming black onyx platform before peeling away and soaring back into the amber sky.
*"Taking us down,"* Akim announced, expertly maneuvering the battered ship towards the indicated platform. Bioluminescent flowers lining the terrace pulsed with soft light, releasing waves of intoxicatingly sweet fragrance as the ship's stabilizers kicked up vortexes of shimmering, iridescent dust. With a final, metallic groan, the *Dust Devil* settled onto the onyx. The ramp lowered with a pneumatic hiss.
---
**The air that flowed in was warm**, carrying the scent of unknown blossoms and clean, energized air. Waiting on the platform stood a small group of Aethelgardians. Their height was impressive, but it was their movement that captured attention – a liquid fluidity, robes of living silk whispering around slender forms without a single awkward fold. They stood with spines straight yet relaxed, heads held high, radiating a serene poise. As the Saiyans began to disembark, the Aethelgardians lowered their gazes respectfully, some sinking into low, graceful bows, hands pressed together near their hearts. Their crystalline eyes, when they chanced to look up, held no fear, only a deep, almost painful reverence.
Their leader, whose opalescent skin seemed to glow softly from within, stepped forward, bowing low. Their voice, when they spoke, was like the chime of small crystal bells. *"Great Ones of Asraioth. Your arrival honors this ancient star. Aethelgard welcomes you."* They straightened, gesturing with a hand that moved like a slow-motion dancer's. *"The darkness stirs below. We pray your legendary strength will cleanse it."*
Domo shouldered past Altos without a word, his heavy boots scuffing the pristine onyx. He stopped before the leader, dwarfing them. *"Prayers are for the weak,"* he sneered. *"We deal in results."*
The leader's expression remained serene, but their robes shifted, the pearl and gold darkening to shades of troubled violet. *"Your power is undeniable, Lord Domo, son of Havie. Asraioth's might is felt even here. We ask only that you remember... even stone can shatter under too much force."*
Domo let out a short, barking laugh. *"This place looks fragile."* He scanned the sky. *"I'll scout ahead. Don't wait up."* His aura flared – a palpable wave of heat and pressure that made the Aethelgardians instinctively recoil, their serene composure momentarily breaking. Then, Domo simply erupted upwards, a dark missile aimed at the heavens. He vanished. A heartbeat later, the crack of a sonic boom echoed down, making the platform tremble.
The Aethelgardians stared skyward, mouths agape, eyes wide with a mixture of terror and bewildered awe. *"Like... like the star-fall that broke the First Moon!"* one whispered, clutching their chest. *"Did you see the speed?"* another breathed, shaking their head.
Roric took an impulsive step, his hand clenching, eyes tracking the empty sky where Domo had been. Lyra tensed beside him, glancing at Altos.
*"Hold position,"* Altos commanded, his voice cutting through the stunned silence. Roric froze, reluctantly obeying. Lyra relaxed fractionally. *"Lord Domo operates independently. Our task remains."* He turned back to the Aethelgardian leader, offering a slight, formal nod. *"Forgive the demonstration. Some warriors prefer... direct action. Please, continue. We are prepared to face this Kryll threat."*
The Aethelgardian leader gathered themselves, their robes calming back to pearlescent hues. *"Yes. Of course, Great One. Your dedication is... humbling. This way, please."*
---
**They were led across bridges** that seemed spun from solid moonlight, spanning chasms where mist swirled around colossal, unseen shapes below. As they walked, small, multifaceted crystals detached themselves from ornate fixtures lining the bridge and floated towards the group, humming with a barely audible, pleasant frequency. One drifted near Gogeta's injured arm.
He tensed, ready for another blow, but the crystal simply hovered, pulsing with warm, golden light. The agonizing throb in his arm immediately began to fade, replaced by a gentle warmth. The tight clench in his jaw eased; his shoulders, previously hunched, visibly relaxed. He let out a long, slow breath, the first truly easy one he'd taken since the fight.
Mori gasped with delight as another crystal nudged playfully against her cheek, warm and vibrating softly. *"Ooh! Tickles!"* She laughed, reaching out. The crystal pulsed brighter, emitting a series of happy, bell-like tones. She spun around, bouncing lightly. *"Gogeta, look! It likes me!"* For a moment, she wasn't a Saiyan recruit on a dangerous mission; she was just a seven-year-old entranced by a magical toy.
Gogeta watched her, a faint ghost of a smile touching his lips. Even Varek seemed to lose some of his perpetual sneer as a sphere hovered near him, its light reflecting softly in his crimson armor.
*"Intriguing,"* Altos murmured, observing the sphere near his own hand. *"Localized bio-resonant field?"*
*"They are attuned to soothe, Great One,"* the leader explained, their voice soft. *"Comfort Spheres. They ease physical pain and quiet the mind's turmoil. A humble offering of peace to our honored guests."*
*"Understood,"* Altos acknowledged, his analytical mind cataloging the technology.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
---
**Their path culminated at a wide, circular platform** composed of what looked like a single, flawless diamond, pulsating with internal light and etched with complex, glowing runes. Tall Aethelgardian guards in gleaming, ceremonial armor stood at ease near its edge.
*"The Sky-Disc,"* the leader announced, gesturing towards the platform. *"It will bear us swiftly to the Royal Court."*
As the Saiyans stepped onto the smooth, cool surface, the disc hummed, lifting silently from the terrace. Mori let out another gasp as they ascended, the city unfolding around them in a dizzying panorama. They glided past towers that touched the clouds, connected by bridges of shimmering force. Waterfalls of pure light cascaded into crystalline pools below. Down in the plazas and walkways, tiny figures in flowing robes looked up, their hands rising in gestures of respect as the disc carrying the Saiyans passed overhead.
One of the Aethelgardian guards near the edge of the disc inclined their head towards Mori and Gogeta, their crystalline eyes softening. *"May your journey be blessed, little stars,"* their melodic voice murmured. Another guard noticed Gogeta unconsciously rubbing his healed arm and, with a gentle flick of their wrist, guided the Comfort Sphere closer to him, its golden light intensifying slightly. Gogeta offered a surprised, grateful nod.
They ascended through the heart of the luminous city, a place woven from light, magic, and impossible architecture, finally slowing as they approached the citadel's highest, most ancient level. The disc hummed to a stop, aligning perfectly with an opening in the structure.
*"We have arrived,"* the leader announced softly. *"King Theron awaits within."*
---
**The chamber beyond was vast, ancient, and resonant with power.** Pillars thick as star-cruisers, carved with reliefs depicting cosmic battles and serene deities, soared upwards into shadowed heights where a holographic star map swirled, depicting the birth and death of galaxies in real-time. Polished obsidian floors reflected the starlight above. Galleries carved into the walls climbed high, and every single one was packed shoulder-to-shoulder with Aethelgardians, their faces alight with fervent anticipation.
As Altos, Varek, Mori, Gogeta, Jax (supporting a now-conscious but groggy Vex), Roric, and Lyra stepped onto the obsidian floor, a sound like a tidal wave crashed over them – the roar of thousands of voices.
*"They are here!"*
*"The Star Warriors!"*
*"Look at their power! Their presence!"*
*"Handsome! Like the heroes carved on the Sunstone!"* a woman cried out from a nearby gallery, clutching her chest.
*"Our saviors!"*
The wave of pure adoration was almost physical. Mori felt heat rise in her cheeks; she unconsciously stood taller, puffing her chest out slightly, the feeling washing away lingering fear. *This… this is much better than Father’s cold training rooms,* she thought. Gogeta blinked rapidly, looking around at the roaring crowd, a flicker of unease crossing his face at being the center of such intense, worshipful focus. Varek’s lip curled into a supremely smug smirk; he practically preened under the attention. Even the stoic Roric seemed to stand a little straighter.
The Aethelgardian guards bowed low one last time before melting back, leaving a wide path clear towards a raised dais at the far end of the hall, where three figures waited upon and beside a massive, floating throne of solid obsidian.
Then, the Saiyans got a clear look at the King. And the wave of adulation momentarily faltered in their minds. King Theron was… jarring. He was short, immensely fat, his body squeezed into elaborate robes that did little to conceal his bulk. His skin was the dull, lightless black of volcanic rock, and his eyes, wide-set in a fleshy face, possessed disturbing, horizontal slit pupils like those of a Terran goat. He looked less like a king, more like a bloated toadstool squatting on a throne. Varek made a small, choked sound of disgust deep in his throat. Jax shot Vex a look that clearly said, *'You seeing this?'*
But the figure seated gracefully beside him drew the eye immediately. The Queen. Her beauty was luminous, ethereal. Skin like pearl, hair like spun moonlight, eyes holding the deep, serene colours of a twilight nebula. She regarded the approaching Saiyans with a calm, welcoming smile that radiated genuine warmth. Roric visibly straightened, his gaze lingering.
Standing slightly behind the Queen was the Princess. And she somehow managed to outshine her mother. She possessed the same otherworldly grace, but with an added vibrancy, an energy that seemed to hum around her. Her eyes held swirling galaxies of colour, and they fixed on the Saiyans with unnerving intelligence and open curiosity.
King Theron raised a plump hand, fingers glittering with rings. The roar of the crowd died instantly, replaced by a silence so profound Mori could hear the soft hum of her own scouter. The King's voice, when it came, was a shock – deep, resonant, filled with warmth and undeniable command, completely at odds with his appearance.
*"People of Aethelgard! Honored Warriors of Asraioth!"* His strange eyes swept the hall, then focused on the Saiyans with surprising keenness. *"We have endured! Beneath the shadow of the slumbering Krylls, beneath the long echo of Krypton's tyranny, we have held fast to the light!"*
He gestured, a surprisingly elegant movement for his bulk, towards the Saiyan group. *"Today, that light is answered! Not by fading myths, but by living power! The Asraioth Empire, whose name shakes the foundations of galaxies, has sent its mightiest! Warriors born of cosmic fire!"*
His gaze intensified as he addressed the Saiyans directly. *"You, who channel the power of exploding suns! You, whose footsteps crack worlds! You hold the keys to our deliverance! The Krylls are the final legacy of our enslavement – break them! Shatter this ancient nightmare! Let Aethelgard breathe free!"*
He turned back to his people, his voice rising, filled with passion. *"Let the darkness below rise! Let it face the inferno of the stars brought to our doorstep! Aethelgard will not fall! Aethelgard will shine! We claim our destiny NOW!"*
The response was deafening. A solid wall of sound – cheers, roars, weeping – slammed through the hall. Hope, raw and incandescent, blazed on every face turned towards the Saiyans. Thousands of fists pumped the air.
Amidst the cacophony, the Princess’s galaxy-eyes shifted, her gaze moving past the adult warriors to settle, soft and thoughtful, on the two children standing slightly apart – Mori, wide-eyed and radiating a fierce determination mixed with awe, and Gogeta, standing straighter now, watching the King, the golden light of the Comfort Sphere still pulsing gently around his hand.
---
**The King lowered his hands**, the resonant warmth of his voice fading into the vast throne room. The roar of the crowd softened, replaced by a thick, expectant silence. Thousands of Aethelgardian eyes remained fixed on the Saiyans standing impassively on the obsidian floor. Nobles in shimmering robes shifted their weight; guards in polished armor stood statue-still.
King Theron surveyed the warriors. *"You are welcome guests upon Aethelgard,"* he declared, his tone softer now, tinged with weariness. *"The Kryll awakening... seismic tremors indicate we have perhaps a week before the first wave breaches the deep caverns. Until then, I invite you to use our facilities. Rest, train, prepare as you see fit."* He managed a faint smile, though the strange, horizontal pupils seemed to betray an inner tension. *"Our kingdom is yours... for this time. Aethelgard opens its gates to those who champion peace."*
The Saiyans offered no visible reaction. No nods, no words, no shifts in stance. Varek looked faintly bored, examining his gauntlet. Roric’s scarred face remained an unreadable mask. Altos stood compact and alert. Jax kept a steadying hand near Vex, who was blinking slowly, trying to clear the fog from his head. Gogeta stood rigid, jaw tight. Mori’s tail gave a slow, almost imperceptible sweep behind her. They were islands of contained, predatory stillness in an ocean of awed silence.
---
**Seated beside the King**, the Princess had remained silent throughout the proceedings. Her silver and white gown cascaded around her like frozen moonlight, shimmering softly. While the court’s attention was on the Saiyan group as a whole, her gaze – the colour of colliding nebulas – had remained almost entirely fixed upon the two smallest warriors, Mori and Gogeta.
*Children,* the thought formed, unbidden, clear as a chime in her mind. *They carry the weight of warriors thrice their age in their eyes, yet they stand no taller than the initiates in the lower gardens.*
She leaned forward just slightly, a subtle shift in her regal posture, her head tilting with quiet fascination. Her expression wasn't pitying, nor fearful. It was calm, composed, yet alight with an intense, searching curiosity.
Mori, hyper-aware despite the overwhelming setting, felt the weight of that specific gaze. Her tail gave a slight, inquisitive twitch. She looked up, her dark eyes meeting the Princess’s nebula hues across the expanse of the throne room. For a fleeting instant, the Saiyan girl’s guarded expression softened, warmed by an unfamiliar, gentle scrutiny.
Gogeta, noticing Mori’s shift, followed her gaze. He met the Princess's eyes, his brow furrowing slightly. He didn’t understand the attention, but he didn't look away either, his stance unconsciously tensing, trying to read the intent behind the calm observation.
The Princess held their gaze for another moment, a silent acknowledgment passing between them before the King spoke again, dismissing the assembly.
---
**"Prepare guest suites,"** the King commanded, turning to his attendants. *"See to our guests' needs."*
Instantly, several Aethelgardians glided forward – not guards, but attendants clad in simpler, yet still elegant, silver tunics. They moved with that same liquid grace, approaching the Saiyans with heads bowed low in reverence.
One attendant, perhaps overeager in their duty, approached Super Elite Altos, holding a small, softly glowing white orb, similar to the Comfort Spheres but smaller. They reached out, intending to perhaps place it on Altos’ shoulder or pauldron.
Altos moved faster than seemed possible for his short stature. His hand snapped out, intercepting the attendant's wrist in a grip that, while not bone-crushing, was iron-firm. The attendant froze, eyes widening in sheer terror, the orb nearly slipping from their trembling fingers.
*"What,"* Altos' voice was dangerously quiet, slicing through the respectful murmurings, *"do you think you are doing?"*
A collective gasp went through the nearby Aethelgardians. Whispers broke out like wildfire – *"Aggression!" "He touched him!"* – their serene faces showing flickerings of fear and profound discomfort. They were clearly unused to such sharp, physical reactions.
On the throne, King Theron sighed, turning his strange eyes towards the star map swirling on the ceiling. *"Ancestral Light,"* he murmured, audible only to those nearest the dais, *"guide this alliance… may the scales balance."*
Altos, realizing the attendant was paralyzed with fear and not malice, released the wrist abruptly. The attendant stumbled back, cradling their hand. Altos straightened, his expression shifting back to controlled neutrality, though his eyes remained sharp. *"Apologies,"* he stated, the word clipped. *"A warrior's reflex. Do not place hands upon us without explicit permission."*
The attendant nodded frantically, bowing repeatedly. *"Y-yes, Great One! Forgive me! This,"* he stammered, holding up the orb again, this time offering it carefully on his open palm. *"Is a comm-sphere. For communication across the citadel and… for emergencies. Linked directly to the Royal Guard and your assigned liaisons."* He explained its basic function with nervous speed.
Altos took the orb, examining it briefly before clipping it to his belt. Similar orbs were offered respectfully, at arm's length, to the other Saiyans.
Jax took his, a wide grin splitting his face as he nudged his brother. *"Hear that, Vex? We can split up, check this place out!"* Vex, looking steadier now, possibly aided by the lingering effects of the Comfort Sphere or maybe just the promise of exploration, grinned back, rubbing his sore jaw. *"Race you to the highest tower?"*
Gogeta took his orb wordlessly, clipping it beside Mori's. He planted his feet firmly, shoulders squared, trying to look taller than his eight years would suggest, annoyed at being the focus of the Princess's earlier attention. Mori, beside him, subtly straightened her own spine, lifting her chin, a flicker of their usual childish competitiveness surfacing even here. The Princess, watching from the dais, saw the small, almost invisible contest, and the corner of her lips twitched upwards slightly, the first hint of a smile. Lyra, the observant Mid-Class Saiyan, also noted the children's posturing, her expression thoughtful.
---
**As the Saiyans began accepting the comm-spheres**, the Princess rose silently from her seat beside the Queen. Her silver-white dress whispered around her as she moved with inherent grace towards her mother, while the King remained seated, seemingly lost in thought about the coming conflict.
*"Mother,"* the Princess murmured, her voice soft as starlight, her gaze still drifting back towards Mori and Gogeta.
The Queen turned, her twilight eyes full of warmth as she looked at her daughter. *"Yes, my Charlotte?"* The name hung softly in the air.
Charlotte leaned closer, keeping her voice low. *"Those two… the children. Near the scarred one."* She indicated Gogeta and Mori. *"Are they truly intended to fight the Krylls?"* There was no judgment, only a quiet disbelief, a touch of awe.
The Queen’s gaze followed her daughter's. *"Saiyan ways are not our ways, Charlotte,"* she replied gently. *"They mature through trial, not time alone. Power answers their calling early."*
*"But they are so young,"* Charlotte whispered, her nebula eyes clouded with something akin to pain. *"Their hands should be learning music, their feet dancing in the sun gardens… not stained with the darkness from below."*
The Queen reached out, her cool, slender fingers gently touching Charlotte's hand. *"Your heart feels their burden, my daughter. It has always been attuned to the world's hurts."* A soft pride entered her voice. *"That is your strength, never forget it."*
Charlotte looked back at Mori and Gogeta, who were now being subtly directed by attendants towards a different exit than the main court nobles. A quiet resolve settled in her expression. *"Perhaps,"* she murmured, almost to herself. *"Or perhaps… even warriors need reminding of what they fight for."*
---
**"This way, Great Ones,"** an attendant gestured, bowing low towards a massive archway set into the side wall of the throne room, previously unnoticed. *"Your assigned suites and access to the upper city await."*
The Saiyans followed, Varek already looking eager to escape the formalities, Jax and Vex practically vibrating with anticipation. As they approached, the archway shimmered. It wasn't stone, but solidified light sculpted to look like intricately carved marble depicting celestial scenes. With a silent hum, the light dissolved, opening like impossibly large double doors onto…
A gasp escaped Mori. Even Varek paused, momentarily stunned.
Beyond the archway lay not a corridor, but an open vista. A breathtaking panorama of Aethelgard spread out before them, bathed in the warm, amber light of the afternoon sun filtering through the crystalline atmosphere. Soaring towers connected by elegant, glowing bridges arched over vast, multi-layered gardens. Streams of light flowed like rivers between floating islands where graceful Aethelgardians moved among shimmering flora. Sleek, silent flying vessels navigated the air currents alongside flocks of the iridescent, six-winged creatures. Far below, intricate patterns of light marked out plazas and avenues bustling with activity. It was a city alive, humming with magic, beauty, and ancient power, stretching out as far as the eye could see – a playground and a fortress, waiting to be explored. The scent of blossoms and energized air drifted in, promising wonders and mysteries.
