The vista unveiled by the dissolving light-arch struck the Saiyans with the force of a physical blow. Aethelgard sprawled beneath them, an impossible city woven from captured starlight and living crystal, bathed in the warm, eternal glow of its amber sun. Towers speared clouds that pulsed with soft luminescence, connected by bridges that hummed with contained energy. Below, rivers of light pulsed through tiered gardens where waterfalls of pure energy cascaded into misty, unseen depths.

  Mori’s breath hitched. Varek’s jaw, usually set in a sneer, hung slightly slack. Even Roric’s stony expression showed a flicker of surprise.

  Amidst this stunned reception, Jax’s eyes met Vex’s across the platform. No words were needed. A shared spark of pure, untamed Saiyan recklessness ignited between them, a silent agreement forged in adrenaline and boredom. A wild grin stretched across both their faces.

  While the attendants gestured towards designated pathways, the twins moved. They didn’t walk; they launched themselves in a blur of motion, straight towards the nearest ornate balcony railing overlooking the breathtaking abyss. With identical whoops that tore through the reverent silence, they vaulted over it.

  For a heart-stopping moment, they simply fell. The wind roared past them, tearing at their armor, whipping their hair. The city rushed up towards them, a dizzying kaleidoscope of light and structure. But their faces held no fear – only pure, unrestrained exhilaration. Their laughter echoed, sharp and defiant against the howl of the wind. Then, just below the main platform level, they slammed through a decorative pane of synth-crystal bordering a lower balcony. The pane didn't just crack; it exploded outwards in a glittering shockwave of razor-sharp shards.

  Screams erupted from the Aethelgardians above. Several attendants stumbled back, hands flying to their mouths. The skinny attendant fumbled desperately with his comm-sphere again, voice cracking. "G-Guards! Sky-Platform breach! T-They fell! Two Star Warriors—over the edge!" He scrambled to the broken railing, peering down, shaking uncontrollably. Nearby, newly arrived Aethelgardian Guards, gliding swiftly on silent energy discs, hovered near the platform edge, their elegant crystal lances held ready but their faces masks of confusion, unsure how to respond. Far below, pinpricks of light – automated defense nodes? – briefly flickered towards the falling figures before extinguishing. A robed Aethelgardian official, perhaps the leader from the initial greeting, leaned close to the Guard Captain hovering beside them and whispered urgently, voice tight, "Hold fire. Observe only. They are... beyond our measure. Do not engage." The Captain gave a tense, almost imperceptible nod, relaying the command.

  The drop seemed endless. The wind screamed a funeral dirge.

  Then, light erupted below. A blinding flash of crackling gold burst around Jax, instantly arresting his fall with a visible ripple of force in the air. Simultaneously, a razor-sharp aura of electric silver flared around Vex. Gravity ceased to matter. They hung suspended for a beat, grinning up at the panicked figures on the platform miles above.

  "Yeeeeee-haaaaaw!" Vex roared, his voice carrying clearly on the wind.

  Then they flew. Not drifting, but carving paths through the sky. Gold and silver energy trails, crackling with power, streamed behind them as they performed effortless aerial maneuvers. They barrel-rolled around impossibly tall spires, executed synchronized high-G turns that would liquefy a normal pilot, and playfully 'buzzed' a flock of six-winged avian creatures, sending them scattering in prismatic confusion. The low thrum of their active auras was a tangible pressure, the air snapping around them as they broke the sound barrier repeatedly with casual bursts of speed.

  A wave of stunned silence washed over the Aethelgardians, quickly followed by frantic whispers. "They command the sky!" "No wings… no ship…" "Like the First Beings in the scrolls!" "Their life force… it burns like miniature suns!" The display of raw power, wielded with such joyful abandon, was beautiful and terrifying, completely outside their understanding.

  Mori watched them go, sighing dramatically and rolling her eyes. "Show-offs," she muttered. "Now the locals will be even more terrified."

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Lyra, who had observed the entire spectacle while leaning casually against a pillar, finally pushed off, stretching languidly like a great cat. Her tail gave a slow, deliberate sweep. A small, amused smirk played on her lips. "Predictable," she sighed, her voice carrying a musical note of utter boredom that somehow cut through the lingering awe. She glanced at the still-flustered attendants. "Are we receiving our accommodations sometime today?" She started walking towards the designated path. "I intend to."

  Altos pinched the bridge of his nose, a flicker of weariness crossing his face. Managing Saiyans in a diplomatic setting was exhausting. "Indeed," he stated firmly, gesturing for the remaining group to follow Lyra. "Let us proceed. The twins... will return when they are bored."

  The attendants, jolted back to duty, bowed hastily. The skinny guide, swallowing hard, took the lead again, his eyes darting nervously between the formidable Saiyans before him and the empty sky where the twin comets had vanished.

  Scene 2: Desert Depths and Violent Harvest

  The southern desert of Aethelgard offered no respite, only the harsh glare of a red sun on endless, fractured land. Here, the evidence of Domo's passage was stark and brutal. Near a wide, deep fissure scarring the earth lay a grotesque monument to his power – a literal mound of carcasses. Dozens of Krylls lay heaped together, their forms horrifying even in death. Their skin, a vivid, sickly green like rotting vegetation, was split open in countless places, revealing glimpses of wet, mucus-slicked flesh beneath cracked, chitinous bio-armor. Bioluminescent veins, now dark or pulsing faintly with residual energy, traced obscene patterns across torn limbs. Some corpses were scorched black, fused together; others were ripped apart, revealing shattered bone-like spinal growths and severed whip-tentacles. Crushed heads offered nightmarish glimpses of faces that seemed to have shifted even as they were destroyed – sockets filled with hundreds of now-shattered micro-eyes, jaws frozen mid-unhinge around spiraling rows of teeth. Foul, acidic slime oozed from ruptured blister-nodes, sizzling on the hot sand. Mixed indiscriminately among the Kryll remains were the equally mangled bodies of large, armored desert predators and the pathetic, charred remnants of at least one unlucky six-winged avian creature that had strayed too close. The ground beneath the pile was blackened and glassy, radiating heat.

  Domo stood at the edge of a crater that was rapidly swallowing the landscape. His violent green and crimson aura pulsed visibly, warping the air into shimmering heat haze, cracking the ground around his boots into glowing, magma-like fissures. Small rocks levitated near him, vibrating before crumbling to dust under the sheer pressure. He wasn't merely digging; he was waging war on the planet itself.

  He inhaled, chest swelling, and unleashed another focused ROAR. The sound wave hit the desert floor like a physical hammer, liquefying acres of rock into slag, sending a shockwave that visibly rippled the distant horizon. The dust plume clawed miles into the sky, momentarily eclipsing the sun. He then dismissively backhanded a jagged outcrop the size of a small mountain, sending it tumbling end-over-end into the distance where it impacted with a faint, delayed thump. He surveyed the immense destruction, the widening crater, the trembling earth, and let out a quiet grunt of... disappointment? "Tch. Barely even shakes when you hit it right," he muttered under his breath, his slit pupils scanning the devastation with contempt. "Dull planet."

  Ignoring the lingering tremors, he focused back on the excavation. Three Mid-Class Saiyans operated in his chaotic wake, their terror palpable but overridden by duty. One hovered precariously, visor down, firing meticulously aimed, pencil-thin ki lances. Each precise burst vaporized only specific debris near the target vein or dislodged key obstacles without triggering wider collapses – a surgeon working alongside a demolition crew. The other two used focused energy fields and controlled movements on the crater floor, clearing cascades of pulverized rock, creating stable berms, desperately trying to manage the fallout from Domo's every blow while staying out of his direct path. They exchanged wary, efficient glances, coordinating their efforts.

  One yelled, voice barely audible over the din, "Target vein exposed, Sector Gamma, Lord Domo!"

  Domo turned his attention to the indicated area. He slammed a fist down, the impact less widespread this time but focused, shattering the final layer of bedrock. The ground hummed violently as a dark vein embedded with crystalline structures was revealed. The crystals pulsed with deep purple light, reacting to Domo's overwhelming aura, seeming to brighten and thrum faster in proximity to his power. With another grunt, Domo reached down. As his massive fingers closed around the largest cluster, arcs of raw purple energy lashed out from the exposed vein, scorching the rock and causing the air to shimmer and warp spatially. With a sound like tearing continents, he ripped the crystal formation free. It pulsed erratically in his grip, warm and heavy, radiating contained power. He examined it for a bare second before tossing it carelessly towards the Mid-Class Saiyans, who scrambled to secure the valuable objective.

  Domo ignored them, turning back to the bleeding wound in the planet, his eyes already seeking the next section of the vein. The mission required crystals. The digging would continue.