Meanwhile, on the other side of the Vega System—Vega Alliance Space—Front Line Command
Nightwing stood on the bridge of the Tamaranean flagship Royal Sun, eyes locked on the tactical display. The past week had pushed him, the team—especially Starfire—and the Vega Alliance to their limits.
Battle raged across the sector. Weapons fire streaked between Alliance and Citadel forces in brilliant flashes. Starfire commanded from the front lines alongside her brother Ryand'r, while Nightwing coordinated strategy from the command deck.
"Nightwing, the Citadel fortress is holding defensive formation," Commander Karras reported. "Our feint worked—they've pulled back exactly as predicted."
Nightwing nodded. "Good. Advance squadron epsilon and capitalize on the gap. But stay sharp—that fortress has proven more resilient than our intelligence suggested."
The battle had raged for a full week since Rachel's group departed. Brutal and costly, though the Alliance maintained their edge through superior tactics. Their strategy was straightforward: hit-and-run attacks to draw the massive Citadel fortress from hiding, luring it deeper into Alliance territory and away from reinforcements.
When victory seemed within reach, the fortress turned the tide. Its primary weapon—a devastating energy cannon—shattered the Alliance's encirclement with a single shot, scattering their forces. They'd expected the fortress to emerge eventually, but witnessing its destructive power firsthand revealed the true scale of the threat.
The Alliance regrouped and shifted to defensive positions. For nearly a week, they probed for weaknesses through guerrilla warfare. Now they were ready to strike again.
"Nightwing, sir!" Another officer called. "Energy spike from the fortress—they're charging their main weapon!"
"All ships, evasive maneuvers! Prepare for—"
The viewscreen exploded with blinding light.
A massive beam of energy tore through the void like a blade from Psion space. It carved through the battlefield, obliterating Citadel and Alliance ships alike before slamming into the fortress. The beam overwhelmed the forward shields and struck the weapon array. Explosions cascaded across the fortress's hull, forcing it to go dark as the mysterious energy vanished.
Silence fell across the bridge.
"What was that?" Commander Karras breathed.
"I don't know," Nightwing whispered, watching the fortress's lights flicker. "But whatever it was just gave us our opening."
The Citadel fleet scrambled into defensive positions around their crippled fortress—exactly the chaos the infiltration team needed.
"Contact Batgirl's team," Nightwing ordered. "Tell them to proceed with infiltration. Now, while the Citadel is disorganized."
Hours passed. The Alliance pressed their advantage against the weakened fortress. Nightwing coordinated the assault from the Royal Sun, though his thoughts kept drifting to the infiltration team.
Batgirl, Wonder Girl, Bumblebee, Arsenal, and Static had breached the fortress hours earlier. Their approach was surgical—a cruiser and two escort vessels engaged the fortress head-on, weapons blazing to draw attention. While the Citadel tracked the attacking ships, the five-person team ejected from the cruiser in advanced space suits, their thruster signatures masked by the chaos.
They drifted through the debris field like ghosts, using wreckage as cover while precision thrusters guided them along a calculated trajectory. The fortress's sensors, overwhelmed by active combat and background radiation, never registered their approach. When they reached the hull, they slipped inside through a damaged maintenance hatch flagged by Alliance intelligence.
For a while, everything went according to plan.
Then communications went dark.
"Nightwing, sir, we've lost all contact with the infiltration team," the communications officer reported. "Last transmission was three hours ago."
Nightwing's fists clenched. "Keep trying to establish contact. And get me—"
"Sir! Hyperspace signature detected—it's the Javelin!"
The sleek Earth vessel materialized nearby, and M'gann's voice came through on the Alliance frequency.
"This is Miss Martian aboard the Prometheus Javelin. We need a situational update immediately."
"Miss Martian!" Relief flooded Nightwing's voice. "You're a sight for sore eyes. I presume your team was successful?"
"Not quite. There were complications—I'll fill you in later. Where are the others?" M'gann's tone was urgent. She couldn't explain over an open frequency that things had gone catastrophically wrong, that she'd returned to evacuate everyone immediately.
"I see." Nightwing's eyes narrowed, reading between the lines. "We had complications as well, forcing us to fall back to point Beta. The rest are on the front lines. I'm transmitting mission and battlefield data on our secure channel now."
Within minutes, Mother Empress downloaded all battlefield data and live tactical feeds. She analyzed the information in seconds, her holographic form materializing on the Javelin's bridge.
"The infiltration team is in grave danger," Mother Empress announced. "Their communications are being actively jammed, but I detect residual signal patterns indicating ongoing combat within the fortress. Immediate extraction recommended."
"Understood. Nightwing, we're picking up Blue Beetle, Richie, and Beast Boy. We're going in."
"Take the others, but I'm staying here," Nightwing responded. "I'm needed on the front lines."
M'gann hesitated. "Copy that. We'll extract you and Starfire once the team is secure."
The Javelin executed a short hyperspace jump, reappearing at the front lines. Its advanced stealth systems activated immediately, rendering the ship invisible as it maneuvered through exploding vessels and crisscrossing weapons fire.
Mother Empress piloted with precision, calculating trajectories milliseconds in advance. When Alliance ships fired on Citadel vessels, the Javelin added its weapons to the barrage—perfectly synchronized so the additional firepower went undetected. Enemy ships blocking their path were destroyed without raising suspicion.
The Javelin reached the massive fortress and magnetically clamped to an exterior maintenance hatch.
"Gar, with me," M'gann said, moving toward the airlock. Both wore sleek space suits matching their uniform colors, equipped with transponders allowing Mother Empress to track their movements.
They exited into the void. M'gann closed her eyes, focusing her powers. She became intangible, then grabbed Gar's hand, extending the phasing effect through him. Together, they passed through the fortress's hull like ghosts.
Inside, M'gann activated her suit's scanner. Multiple signals appeared on her HUD—her teammates' positions.
"They're moving fast," she said through the comm system. "And they're being pursued."
Gar started moving forward, but M'gann held up a hand.
"M'gann, follow my guidance," Mother Empress's voice came through her earpiece. "There's a computer terminal thirty meters to your left. I require direct access to the fortress's systems."
They phased through walls and bulkheads to avoid patrols rushing to their stations. When they reached the terminal, M'gann solidified just enough to allow her suit's interface port to connect.
"You're in," she whispered.
For two minutes, nothing happened except the soft pulse of data transfer indicators. Then Mother Empress spoke again.
"I have full access to their systems. Excellent work, M'gann."
In another section of the fortress, Wonder Girl slammed her fists into the corridor's support structure. Reinforced metal groaned and buckled. Tons of debris collapsed inward, sealing the path behind them.
"Move!" she commanded as her team scrambled through.
"Damn it!" Arsenal cursed, glancing back at the blocked corridor. "We're out of options!"
Batgirl leaned against the wall, face pale beneath her mask, cradling her injured arm. Blood seeped through the crimson stains on her suit. Bumblebee worked frantically with limited supplies, trying to stabilize the injury.
"Barbara, stay with me," Bumblebee urged.
"I'm fine," Batgirl managed through gritted teeth. "We just need another way out."
Static scanned the chamber. "Ideas? Because I've got nothing."
The mission had started smoothly. The fortress's earlier damage had sent soldiers scrambling in every direction. Batgirl's hacking skills had guided them straight to their objective—the core control systems. They'd reached the central command chamber and neutralized the Psion operators before alarms could sound. Through the control panels, they'd finally located it, the captured proto-star powering the massive fortress.
Batgirl had connected her terminal, fingers flying across the alien interface as proximity alarms began blaring. The backdoor installation crept toward completion. Just one more minute for full system access.
Then the reinforced doors exploded inward. Citadel soldiers flooded the chamber, weapons blazing.
The team fought to buy Batgirl time, but sheer numbers overwhelmed them. A plasma bolt caught Batgirl's arm. She stumbled, gasping as searing pain shot through her. Arsenal reacted instantly, grabbing her collar and hauling her behind a console. Her suit's basic shielding had prevented the loss of her arm by absorbing most of the damage, but the limb was badly burned and bleeding.
Even through the pain haze, even as Arsenal dragged her back, she made the call. Direct control was impossible now—too many hostiles, too little time. So she decided to switch to Plan B. She would deploy the contingency virus she had prepared. Suppressing a scream, she forced her fingers across her terminal's interface.
Without direct connection to the control panel, the upload crawled forward.
47%... 53%... 61%... 73%... 81%... 97%... 100%
A confirmation ping echoed in her earpiece. The virus was executing.
"Done. Move!" she called over comms.
They retreated, covering each other as Citadel guards pursued relentlessly. But their escape route was cut off. Now they were trapped deep in enemy territory, with forces closing from every direction.
"We can't fight through an entire fortress," Wonder Girl said. "Not with Batgirl injured."
Every screen in the chamber suddenly flickered and died. The Citadel interface vanished, replaced by a large, stylized "T"—the Titans symbol—glowing defiantly on every display.
They froze.
"What the—" Arsenal began.
A voice echoed through the chamber's speakers.
"Hello, Citadel forces. This is Miss Martian of the Titans. I hope you're enjoying the show."
"M'gann?" Wonder Girl breathed. "But she was supposed to—"
The voice continued, broadcasting fortress-wide. "Your systems are now under my control."
Throughout the fortress, Citadel soldiers stopped, staring at screens displaying the Titans symbol. Panic rippled through their ranks.
"Now, you might think your priority is finding these intruders. But that's not your biggest problem."
M'gann's voice remained calm and cold. "Allow me to demonstrate."
A section of the fortress exploded in a brilliant fireball, visible on every monitor. The already-blaring alarms grew deafening.
"I've placed explosive charges throughout this fortress at critical structural points. Believe me or don't. But if you'd prefer not to be scattered across the void, I suggest focusing less on my friends and more on evacuating. You have fifteen minutes. Use them wisely."
Chaos erupted. Soldiers abandoned their posts, scrambling for escape pods and evacuation shuttles.
'That went well. Good thing they didn't realize Gar's only placed a handful of explosives so far,' M'gann thought, exhaling in relief. She connected directly to her team.
"Wonder Girl, can you hear me?" M'gann's voice came through their suit comms privately. "There's hatch in there you can use. Follow the path lighting up on your HUDs. Mother Empress is guiding you out."
Green navigation lines appeared on their helmet displays, mapping an optimal route.
"You heard her! Move out!" Wonder Girl commanded, helping Bumblebee support Batgirl.
They followed the route and ran through corridors transformed into scenes of complete chaos. Soldiers rushed past without a glance, too focused on survival to notice intruders. M'gann manipulated the fortress systems remotely—opening blast doors ahead, sealing bulkheads behind, even venting atmospheric pressure to clear rooms of pursuing enemies.
With three minutes remaining, they reached a junction where M'gann and Gar waited in their space suits.
"Took you long enough," M'gann said with a warm smile, though concern flashed in her eyes at Batgirl's pale complexion. "Beast Boy, patch her suit."
"On it." Beast Boy stepped forward, took the emergency supplies, and patched the suit just enough to restore functionality.
"Thanks, Gar," Batgirl whispered.
Beast Boy nodded.
"Your timing was perfect," Wonder Girl said.
"Alright, everyone—grab hands and form a chain," M'gann instructed. "This will feel extremely weird."
She concentrated. Her Martian physiology responded, intangibility extending through physical contact to envelop them all. Together, they phased through the fortress's thick hull and emerged into vacuum.
For a moment, they floated in the void—the massive battle raging around them with ships exploding, energy beams cutting through darkness, the fortress looming like a mechanical planet.
Then space shimmered nearby as the Javelin's stealth systems partially deactivated, revealing an open hatch. Mother Empress had already detached from the fortress and maneuvered to intercept them.
They pulled themselves inside using suit thrusters. The hatch sealed. Atmosphere flooded the airlock. Everyone exhaled in collective relief. As the ship engaged its cloak and withdrew under cover of battlefield chaos, Donna carried Barbara toward the med bay while the rest moved to join Jaime and Richie at their stations.
When Donna entered the med bay, she froze. Her sister and niece lay injured in two med pods, undergoing healing.
M'gann placed a hand on Donna's shoulder. "I know you have questions. But first, let's get Barbara in a pod. Then I'll explain everything to everyone."
Before leaving earlier, M'gann had asked Jaime and Richie to transfer the suspended Kryptonians into storage and free the pods for potential casualties. Jaime, Richie, and Gar had all reacted with shock seeing the team's strongest members injured. M'gann hadn't explained—just said she would later. Now Donna had the same questions, but she trusted her friend. Together, they secured Barbara into a pod and initiated the healing sequence.
Three minutes after the Javelin cleared the danger zone, the fortress began shaking violently.
Small explosions rippled across its massive surface—carefully calculated sequential blasts targeting critical structural points identified by Mother Empress, systematically compromising the energy containment systems holding the captured proto-star. While M'gann had distracted the Citadel, Mother Empress had guided Gar to place explosives at these precise locations.
The fortress's outer shell shattered. Massive kilometer-long pieces spun away into space, trailing atmosphere and debris. At its center, freed from its artificial prison, the captured proto-star blazed with sudden, terrible fury.
Space itself twisted from the immense gravitational forces suddenly unleashed. Citadel ships nearest the newborn star found themselves caught in its inexorable pull, dragged inward despite desperate engine burns. One by one, they collided with the star's blazing surface and vaporized instantly, their matter feeding its growing mass.
The Vega Alliance fleet, having received advance warning from Richie on the Javelin, had begun withdrawing minutes before the first explosions. They escaped to safe distance and watched in awe as their greatest enemy's flagship was reduced to scattered debris and a new celestial body.
"They did it," Nightwing whispered from the Royal Sun's bridge, watching the spectacular destruction unfold. He stood, raising his hand decisively. "All ships, full barrage as you retreat to Point Gamma. Don't let them regroup—now!"
The Alliance fleet opened fire with everything they had, devastating the demoralized and scattered Citadel forces, before executing their withdrawal with military precision.
From that moment forward, the Vega system had gained another star.
The Javelin exited hyperspace near Tamaran. On the bridge, Gar whooped, pumping his fist.
"Did you see that explosion? That was incredible! We actually—"
Suddenly alarms blared. Sensors flashed warnings detecting an incoming shockwave.
"Everyone brace yourselves!" Richie's voice cut through comms as the wave slammed into them.
Mother Empress immediately fired all stabilization thrusters at maximum. The Javelin shuddered but held steady, shields straining against the buffeting forces. Around them, several Alliance vessels weren't as fortunate—caught off-guard, they collided with each other, secondary explosions blooming like deadly flowers across the void.
"What was that?" Jaime muttered, gripping his console.
"Unknown energy disturbance," Richie reported, fingers flying across his interface. "Sensors can't identify the signature. Tracing the source..." His eyes widened. "It's coming from Psionic Hegemony Space."
M'gann's expression turned solemn. "Mother Empress, do you think—"
She stopped mid-sentence. Everyone on the bridge turned instinctively toward the main viewport.
Outside, an ethereal translucent figure began manifesting, growing larger and larger. The sheer power radiating from it made reality itself shudder. As it fully materialized, it loomed over all of Vega—impossibly massive, towering over the entire system like a god. Its presence pressed down on everything.
Even on the Javelin, the crew felt it. Their legs buckled.
"What the hell is that?" Gar whispered, face pale.
"Don't tell me..." Jaime stepped back. "Another Higher Realm being?"
Without warning, the ship's thrusters activated, turning them away from the viewport.
"What's going on?" Donna asked.
"I've been locked out!" Richie said.
"Me too," Jaime added.
"Same here," Karen confirmed.
M'gann understood immediately. "Mother Empress, what are you doing?"
A message appeared across the viewscreen:
[Emergency protocols initiated. All personnel, secure yourselves immediately.]
"Mother Empress, please—what's happening?" M'gann asked.
"Per the young master's orders, I am evacuating all of you. We are leaving Vega space now."
"Wait, what?" Donna protested. "We can't just abandon—"
"This is not up for discussion. I will not allow another of you to act recklessly," Mother Empress said firmly. "Young Master provided explicit instructions for precisely this scenario. The Javelin is returning to Earth immediately. Secure all stations."
The FTL drive began its charging sequence, the characteristic hum building rapidly. Calculations processed at impossible speeds. Within moments, the hyperspace lane was selected.
The ship launched into the corridor. The crew could only watch as they fled—worrying about the friends left behind, unable to forget the ethereal figure hanging in the void above Vega, especially its angry expression.
Turning Back Time—Psion Space, Minutes Before Javelin's Departure
Orach's POV
Prometheus Javelin—After giving his command to Mother Empress
'When was the last time I felt this way?'
Memories from the war flashed before my eyes. The rage that drove me through every battle. But it all started on that day—the day the cost of war truly hit me. The day I lost him.
'Shin…'
'It's the same anger I felt then.'
The same anger that consumed me as I held his body in my arms. The same anger that overwhelmed my God Ki and triggered my Super Saiyan transformation for the first time. I could still see it—that rainy day, on my knees, holding him as he spoke his last words.
'I failed him. His parents. His world. I couldn't even fulfill the one thing he asked of me in his dying breath—I couldn't save his sister.'
For a moment, the anger I thought I'd moved past threatened to consume me again.
Rustle.
A gentle rustling from the white tree in my inner world pulled me back to the present.
'Thank you.'
"All of you, seal off your domains."
As I stepped through the spatial ripple—heading straight for the bastard who hurt my family—I sent the command through our connection to my nine wardens.
The response was instant.
"Not happening!" Taron snapped. "They hurt my sister-in-law and niece. I'm fighting!"
"Heck yeah!" Ysraza's voice crackled with fury. "I want to tear that bastard apart!"
"You think I'm sitting this out?" Aeloria roared. "I'll fry him until he begs for death! Nobody hurts our niece!"
"I'm with them, Orach." Taliana's soft voice turned cold. "I'll cut him apart, heal him with my domain, and do it again. And again."
"Boy, you can't stop us. Hiccup." Even drunk, Durgnar's rage cut through. "I'll drown him in pleasure until it becomes agony. Hiccup!"
"Young master, let us punish this sinner together!" Even the usually calm Ragnar's voice resonated with killing intent.
"We share your anger, young master!" Abrandt's tone had frozen over, tribulation lightning crackling around him. "Let us fight beside you!"
"Orach." Reyan also joined in. "Let us help."
Despite the chorus of fury from my crew—my friends—I couldn't agree to their request.
Aeloria, frustrated by my silence to their words, reached out to the one person who hadn't spoken.
"Para! Say something to this idiot!"
A pause. Then Para's calm voice cut through.
"We'll listen, Young master." A beat later. "But remember—he's a Tuffle. Don't underestimate him."
Through our connection, I felt what she held back. Her own rage, simmering beneath that control.
"Wait, Para! Why are you—"
"Thank you, Para." I cut Aeloria off, my tone solemn. "I understand. I'll be careful."
Then I addressed them all.
"Thank you. All of you." I let the words settle before continuing. "For loving Diana and Rachel. For being just as angry as I am about what happened to them."
I steadied myself.
"But I need you to understand—I'm furious right now. And I don't trust myself in this state. If I lose control, if my Primordial God Ki or the Dragon Domains spiral out because of my rage, I could destroy this entire realm." I took a breath. "This is Diana and Rachel's home. Where they were born. I won't be the one to take that from them."
Silence fell at my words.
"Please," I said quietly. "Trust me on this. I will make him pay."
By the time I emerged from the ripple, I heard their unified response: "Fine."
In the next instant, the nine domains went dormant. Each warden took control, sealing away that immense power.
Now I could fight without worry.
I surged forward as golden energy exploded around me, transforming into Super Saiyan mid-flight. Citro was reaching for the rift to the Higher Realms—fingertips just inches from the edge—when I closed the distance in a blink, caught him by the leg, and hurled him down toward the shattered hemisphere below.
As I descended after him, I pushed deeper into my bloodline, ascending to Super Saiyan 2. My hair stood on end, muscles tightening as lightning crackled across my body. My eyes locked onto my prey as he plummeted toward the shattered planet below.
This bastard was going to pay.
End of POV
Above, the Javelin departed. Orach descended slowly, golden aura blazing, blue lightning crackling across his form. The air warped from the sheer density of his ki.
Below, Citro staggered upright, eyes locked on the descending figure. "What are you?" Genuine confusion crept into his voice. "Your face is the same, but this power..." He struggled to reconcile what his senses told him. "Moments ago, you wielded some form of divine energy—I couldn't have been mistaken. Yet now you stand before me in that savage Super Saiyan transformation of the mortal branch." His eyes narrowed. "So I ask again—what are you?"
Orach's boots touched down at the crater's edge. He said nothing. His teal eyes—cold and unwavering—locked onto Citro with predatory focus.
"The God Branch abandoned bloodline transformations when they began cultivating divine energy," Citro continued, annoyance showing. "They could never revert after walking the divine path. I've fought warriors from both branches—killed a few myself. So tell me—how do you walk both paths?"
Orach remained silent, his expression unreadable. Golden energy rippled around him, lightning dancing across his shoulders.
The silence was more unnerving than any threat.
'Psychological warfare? Showing me something impossible, then staying silent to unsettle me?' A darker thought surfaced. 'Could he be like me—an ancient consciousness inhabiting a mortal vessel?'
He extended his senses, probing Orach's energy. What he detected sent a chill down his spine.
The energy felt primal. Ancient.
It reminded him of the original Saiyans from before the branches split. Yet that made no sense—apart from the legendary Saiyan God, the originals had vanished eons ago.
Beyond its primal nature, the energy felt vast. The density matched a God Branch warrior wielding Super Saiyan God—a true King Realm existence. Nothing about this made sense.
'No imbalance... no instability... this isn't possession. Has their race evolved into something new? But more importantly—why is he restraining his power?' The images of the two women flashed through his mind. 'He can't fully control that power... he's afraid unleashing it would tear this realm apart. If that's the case…'
Citro straightened, channeling Soul Power. The enemy's silent stare said everything—words were useless.
Vitality drained from his body, hair bleaching whiter as he repaired his disabled arm. But Diana's wound—infused with the Primordial Law of Destruction—resisted healing. He'd sealed the destructive energy, but maintaining that seal demanded constant power. Without full fusion, he couldn't close the wound while suppressing the force eating away at him.
Wasting soul power on this vessel went against his plans, but he had no choice. If he wanted to reach that shrinking rift overhead, he needed to risk deteriorating the vessel. Once in the Higher Realms, he could secure another body.
He glanced at the rift. When his eyes returned, a smile formed.
"So you'll continue this silence? Typical. Even after all this time, you mortal Saiyans remain savages who only understand violence." He paused. "Very well. You should feel honored—you've caught this Emperor's attention. You want a battle? You'll get one."
Grey energy coalesced into a sphere above his palm. "Let me show you the difference between mortal power and an Emperor!"
The sphere expanded rapidly, channeling fifty percent of his body's remaining reserves. He hurled it forward.
Orach didn't move. His cold eyes simply tracked its approach.
At arm's reach, he raised his palm.
The sphere collided with him and… stopped.
Completely.
No explosion. No struggle. The attack simply stopped, as though it had struck an immovable wall.
Citro's eyes widened. "What—"
Just then, Orach's fingers closed around it. Golden ki invaded the sphere's structure, destabilizing it from within. Grey energy unraveled under his grip. With a casual squeeze, he crushed it. The sphere imploded silently, its energy dissipating harmlessly into the atmosphere.
'I was right—his power is King Realm. Likely early to mid. Still… he neutralized an attack carrying centuries of experience. That ki control is extraordinary. But since he's not using God Ki, I can still escape.'
Citro's calculating eyes met Orach's cold stare. "Despite appearances, we're both at King Realm—physically. But you should understand what I truly am. Even without manifesting my soul body to wield my true strength, you'll be facing power beyond your level." He paused, his eyes narrowing. "Are you really that confident?"
Orach still said nothing and just watched.
"How arrogant. How very... Saiyan. You're no different from those savages I butchered during the war. I don't know what evolution your race has undergone, but if you believe matching my body's realm gives you victory—"
"You hurt my woman."
Orach's quiet voice cut like a blade, interrupting Citro.
"You nearly killed my daughter."
He took a step forward, eyes never leaving Citro's.
"You turned what should have been a simple field experience into a life-and-death ordeal for them."
Another step.
"And for that..."
He vanished.
Citro's eyes widened. Every instinct screamed. He tried raising his guard, but it was too late.
Orach materialized before him, close enough to see those cold teal eyes burning with fury.
"...you're going to suffer."
His fist drove into Citro's face.
Thunder cracked. A shockwave erupted, expanding the crater by another kilometer. The ground shattered, chunks lifting from the sheer force before raining down.
Citro felt his nose cave in, jaw fracture as he launched backward at hypersonic speed.
BOOM!
He crashed through debris, pulverizing rubble before slamming into the ground kilometers away. The impact carved a trench hundreds of meters long.
He lay gasping. Blood poured from his mouth and nose. Microfractures spider-webbed across his face. Skin split, exposing bone. His brain felt rattled—vision swimming, ears ringing.
'How? We're in the same realm—how did he move that fast? But it wasn't just his speed… he even suppressed his ki signature completely before striking! Such refined control... just how did he achieve that?'
He forced himself to look up—but froze the next instant.
Orach hovered above, golden aura blazing, cold eyes staring down at him.
"Get up."
Orach's words rang out. Not a request, but a command.
Pride as an Emperor-level existence wouldn't allow Citro to stay down and be looked down upon. He dragged himself upright, grey energy flaring as he worked to stabilize the vessel's major injuries and repair the damage.
"You're the same as those savages—letting emotion cloud your judgment. But I'll grant you this: you surprised me." His eyes hardened as his face began to heal. "Still, if you think brute force alone can defeat me, you're sorely mistaken. I. Am. An. Emperor!"
His aura exploded outward as he drew deeper on his body's reserves, even channeling a thread of Soul Power directly into his ki. The grey energy surged upward, pressing down on Orach with crushing intent. The air grew dense and heavy, warping under the sheer weight of his power.
But Orach's eyes merely flashed. His golden aura flared in response, rising to meet the grey energy head-on. Lightning crackled more violently across his form, each arc splitting the air with thunderous cracks. The two energies collided—golden light burning against grey—each vying for dominance.
The ground beneath them groaned, then shattered. Space itself buckled under the pressure of their colliding powers. For a moment, the world seemed divided between them, golden brilliance against grey shadow, locked in a trembling, unstable deadlock.
'Impossible... He's matching me. His ki quality is denser than it should be. Perfectly controlled. This isn't normal.' For the first time, Citro felt genuine alarm.
A sneer appeared on Orach's face. "Emperor?"
In that moment, Citro understood the horrible truth—even without God Ki, this still wasn't Orach's full power.
He was holding back.
"Come on," Orach said softly, extending his hand and gesturing forward. "Show me what an Ancient Emperor can do."
Citro's hands trembled. Ancient rage stirred within him, awakening memories of battlefields long turned to dust. The primal will to fight and conquer that had defined the Great War surged back to life.
'How DARE this savage taunt me! If that's what he wants, then so be it. I'll fight with everything I have. And if this vessel fails, if I fall—I'll drag this anomaly down with me.'
"Fine, Saiyan." His eyes blazed. Grey energy intensified around him, responding to the ancient fury flooding his consciousness. "Perhaps this is how it was always meant to end. Saiyan and Tuffle, facing each other one final time."
He spread his arms wide, grey energy erupting from his core.
"Let us finally bring an end to the Great War!"
With his decision made, he released all restraints. Grey energy exploded outward as he committed fully to the vessel's destruction, accepting what would come after. More threads of soul power infused his ki, and his power surged—climbing from mid-King to late King Realm, then shattering through to peak King in a violent crescendo.
Major injuries knitted together rapidly, flesh mending and bones fusing. But the cost was immediate and visible. Cracks spread across his skin like spiderwebs, dark grey energy seeping through the fractures. The vessel trembled under the strain, threatening to tear itself apart from the sheer magnitude of power flooding through it.
Yet his eyes—ancient and burning with fury—showed no hesitation.
The deadlock shattered. Grey energy surged forward, overwhelming the golden light and forcing it back.
Orach's expression remained cold, but his aura pulsed in response—silent acceptance of the challenge.
Then they vanished.
Air cracked where they'd stood. Their fists met—Orach's right against Citro's left—with earth-shattering force. Auras collided, golden and grey erupting into violent maelstrom.
BOOM!
The shockwave rippled outward, pulverizing ground into fine particles. Both heads snapped back, yet neither yielded.
Citro recovered first—a fraction of a second. Ancient instincts took over as he drove his knee upward.
Orach's instincts flared. He twisted at the last instant, taking the blow on his side. His armor absorbed the impact with a brilliant flash. In the same motion, he countered with a devastating hook to Citro's ribs.
CRACK!
Citro's ribs fractured, but instinct overrode pain. He retaliated with an elbow strike that caught Orach's jaw, whipping his head sideways.
Orach's vision blurred momentarily. He shook it off, eyes blazing, and drove his fist into Citro's side with explosive force.
BOOM!
Citro flew backward, carving trenches through broken earth. Grey energy flared as he stabilized after fifty meters.
They separated, auras blazing. The ground beneath them cracked. The craters deepened. Debris levitated, caught in the vortex of their ki.
Their eyes locked. No words necessary. Both warriors understood this was merely the opening exchange—a test of each other's capabilities.
In the next moment, they engaged again.
Orach closed the distance in a burst of speed, fist driving toward Citro's core. Citro shifted, deflecting with his forearm while countering with a palm strike.
Orach caught the strike with his free hand. For a heartbeat they were locked together, golden and grey energy crackling violently between their grips. Ground splintered from the pressure.
Citro twisted suddenly, using superior experience to break Orach's balance. But Orach planted his foot and reversed the momentum, using Citro's own force against him. He pulled the Tuffle Emperor toward him and smashed his forehead into Citro's nose.
CRUNCH!
Blood sprayed. Citro's head snapped back, eyes blazing with fury. Grey energy surged around his fist as he channeled more power directly into the strike and drove it into Orach's chest.
BOOM!
The impact sent Orach skidding backward. He dug his heels in, grinding to a halt after twenty meters. His armor shone brightly, absorbing and dispersing the blow's energy. He snapped his gaze up as he straightened, locking onto the figure wreathed in grey energy hovering above.
Citro narrowed his eyes, major injuries healing. He wiped blood from his mouth. "Impressive armor you've got there, boy. You're no common Saiyan, are you? Royalty, perhaps?" A mocking edge crept into his voice. "And how curious—you claimed that half-breed High Demon as yours, and that woman as your mate. Tell me, did your race run short of suitable women? Is that why you stooped to the lower realms for your family?"
Orach didn't answer, but his eyes flashed briefly green before returning to teal. His golden aura flared, lightning crackling more intensely.
"Tch. Fine. Don't speak." Citro sneered, noting the reaction. "But if you truly wish to hurt me, you'll have to do better."
Orach launched skyward in the next instant, closing the distance with explosive speed.
They became blurs of light—golden and dark grey—streaking across the sky. Their movements transcended normal perception. Only the glowing trails and thunderous booms showed where they were.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Each impact sent shockwaves rippling through the atmosphere, scattering clouds and distorting the air. They traded blows at impossible speeds—Orach's fist meeting Citro's palm, Citro's knee blocked by Orach's forearm, both warriors countering with battle-hardened instincts.
Orach feinted with a right hook, then pivoted mid-air to deliver a spinning kick enhanced with ki. Citro raised his guard, grey energy reinforcing his defense, but the force sent him spiraling backward.
He recovered quickly, propelling himself forward with a rapid combination—left palm strike aimed at Orach's solar plexus, right elbow toward his temple, then a turning kick leveraging his momentum toward Orach's ribs. Each strike targeted a vital point.
Orach weaved through the first two attacks, slipping past the palm strike with minimal movement, then ducked under the elbow as it whistled overhead. But the kick caught him on his side, activating his armor. He grunted, then retaliated with a point-blank ki blast that exploded against Citro's hastily raised guard, forcing them apart.
They hovered in the sky, separated by a hundred meters, both breathing heavier than before. Despite their overwhelming power, the intensity was taking its toll—Citro on his deteriorating vessel, Orach on his stamina.
'How is he keeping pace with techniques I perfected over centuries? His bone age is young—barely a thousand years. Yet he fights like someone who's survived countless life-and-death battles. His technique isn't raw either—it's polished and efficient. Every movement serves a purpose. What has he gone through?'
They were warriors separated by eons, yet united by the crucible of war. Citro—an ancient being who survived the brutal First Great War. Orach—a hero of the Great Android War and one of the seven young Heavenly Emperors, tempered through his own apocalyptic conflict. Both had been forged in blood and survival.
Now they collided, each facing the other's battle-honed techniques—both warriors reading and adapting in the heat of battle.
Citro made his decision. Continuing close-quarters would only drain his vessel further. Grey energy flowed through his hands as he manipulated surrounding air currents, spinning them into a light-bending veil through precise ki control. His form shimmered, rippling like a mirage, then vanished. This was an advanced technique from the Great War era.
He materialized behind Orach, grey energy coalescing into razor-sharp spears of compressed ki. "Take this!" He thrust his palm forward, launching the barrage.
But Orach's ki sense flared in warning. He felt the subtle air displacement, the minute shift in ambient ki that betrayed Citro's position. His battle experience served him well. He spun at the last instant, hands already moving. A sweeping ki barrier erupted from his palms, golden energy forming a shield that deflected the spears in a shower of dissipating grey energy.
Then he vanished.
Citro's eyes widened as Orach materialized directly before him, having closed the distance with speed that suggested he'd been holding back even now. The Saiyan's fist, wreathed in crackling golden energy, drove toward Citro's hastily raised guard with overwhelming force.
BOOM!
Even through his reinforced guard, the impact sent the Tuffle Emperor tumbling through the air. He recovered after several rotations, stabilizing with a burst of grey energy, but felt more cracks spreading through the vessel.
'His speed… it's increasing. No—he's adapting to my patterns, predicting my movements. This isn't just power—he's a genuine battle prodigy.'
Citro changed tactics. Close combat favored such an adaptive enemy. He raised both hands overhead, grey energy gathering into three massive spheres—each easily ten meters in diameter, crackling with concentrated destructive intent. The spheres pulsed with unstable power, warping the air from their sheer density.
"Let's see you handle this!" Citro roared, hurling all three in rapid succession, each sphere aimed to cut off Orach's escape routes.
The spheres tore through the sky, their mass warping space as they approached from different angles.
Orach's response was immediate and decisive. He brought his hands together at his side, golden light gathering between his palms. The energy intensified rapidly, crackling with raw destructive power as he compressed it. He then thrust both hands forward.
"Haaa!"
A massive golden beam erupted from his palms, a lance of pure concentrated ki that illuminated the darkening sky. It met the first sphere head-on.
BOOM!
The sphere exploded in a brilliant flash, but Orach's beam didn't falter. It tore through the explosion and collided with the second sphere, overwhelming its structure and detonating it as well.
BOOOM!
By the time it reached the third sphere, the beam had thinned considerably, but still possessed enough power to destabilize the attack's energy matrix.
The final sphere exploded prematurely, triggering a chain reaction.
BOOOOOOM!
A blinding flash consumed the sky. The shockwave expanded, obliterating remaining clouds and sending tremors through the entire hemisphere. The escaping atmosphere accelerated its exodus, air rushing toward the vacuum where half the planet had been destroyed.
Ground far below cracked and split, new fissures racing across the landscape for kilometers.
Through the smoke and debris, both warriors emerged. Citro's vessel showed significantly more cracks now, dark grey energy seeping through. Orach remained calm—his armor fully active, energy barriers flickering across its surface.
Neither showed any sign of stopping. They hovered, eyes locked, measuring each other with renewed respect. The pause lasted only a heartbeat.
"You're strong, boy," Citro said, voice carrying grudging respect as he wiped blood from his mouth. "Stronger than any mortal branch Saiyan I faced during the Great War. Tell me—what horrors forged you into a warrior capable of standing toe-to-toe with an Ancient Emperor like me?"
Orach's eyes narrowed, golden aura pulsing steadily. When he finally spoke, his voice was cold. "Beings not unlike your kind—except they sought to destroy all organic life, not conquer it." He paused, expression hardening. "And like your race, they're extinct now."
Citro's expression shifted, something like understanding flickering across his features. A short breath escaped him—almost a laugh. "Beings who tried to wipe out all organics? Interesting. It seems the Higher Realms developed in unexpected ways during the Tuffles' absence." His eyes studied Orach with new appreciation. "You're a survivor of an extinction war. That explains the edge in your technique—the efficiency, the killing intent beneath the surface."
Orach's aura flared brighter, lightning crackling more intensely. "Sadly, you won't get the chance to learn more. I'm done gauging you."
He dropped into a lower stance, expression hardening. The air compressed violently around him as he reached deeper into his Ancient Saiyan bloodline, tapping into power he'd only used sparingly. His golden aura pulsed and shot upward. In the next instant, it deepened in color—growing richer and more intense—before a faint green began mixing in.
"HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
Energy erupted from his body in violent, expanding waves. Veins bulged across his muscles and forehead as his power surged beyond Super Saiyan 2's limits. His golden hair began to grow, lengthening down his back in wild spikes as his eyebrows faded completely.
Lightning exploded outward in continuous, violent arcs that lit the sky like a raging storm. Ground far beneath fractured and cratered further from the oppressive pressure. The shockwave expanded across the broken world—every remaining living being on the planet felt the overwhelming weight descend, driving weaker creatures to their knees.
His muscles expanded, becoming more defined yet somehow leaner. His golden aura flashed outward in a brilliant wave that pushed back the surrounding atmosphere. When the light faded, he stood transformed, impossibly long golden hair flowing past his waist in currents of pure energy, a pronounced brow ridge giving his face a more primal edge, eyes shining with new intensity and focus.
Citro staggered back despite himself, his vessel trembling. He could feel Orach's power—it had climbed dramatically, surpassing his peak King Realm output and entering what could only be described as Pseudo-Emperor level. What had felt like facing an equal now registered as confronting something that bordered on his own true realm.
"What is this?" Citro's voice carried genuine shock, composure truly cracking for the first time. "How does a mortal bloodline transformation possess such energy? This shouldn't be possible! The mortal branch transformations have limits!"
Orach's steady voice rang out across the battlefield. "This is Super Saiyan 3." His burning gaze locked onto Citro with absolute focus. "Surprised, Ancient Emperor? We Saiyans never stop evolving. If you thought Super Saiyan 2 was our ceiling, you were mistaken."
He stepped forward, each movement now leaving ripples in space itself. "This form isn't granted by gods or achieved through divine ki. It's pure evolution forged through will, through pushing past every limit." His expression hardened further. "This is the potential your race dismissed as beneath you. And this is the form that will make you answer for what you did to my family."
Citro's shock faded, his expression turning solemn. His eyes flashed with renewed killing intent. "Don't get cocky, boy. You haven't won yet. I survived the Great War and countless battles across multiple realms. I won't fall to some youngling like you!"
"Then let's finish this," Orach said, voice cold and resolute as his teal eyes locked onto Citro.
They exploded toward each other, auras carving blazing trails across the darkening sky. The distance between them vanished in a heartbeat.
BOOM!
Their fists collided with apocalyptic force. The shockwave split clouds above into a perfect ring and carved a massive crater into ground below. The broken planet groaned further under the stress, structural integrity nearly pushed to the breaking point.
Orach pressed his advantage immediately. His power in Super Saiyan 3 gave him a decisive edge—every strike came faster, hit harder. He unleashed a devastating combination: a right hook to Citro's jaw enhanced with compressed ki, followed by a left uppercut to his ribs, then a knee strike that drove into his abdomen.
Citro managed to partially block the first two, grey energy reinforcing his guard, but the knee shattered through his defense. The impact drove cracks deeper across his chest, and before he could recover, Orach pivoted mid-air and delivered a spinning kick to his back.
Citro plummeted downward, crashing into ground with bone-crushing force. Dust and debris erupted around him.
Before he could even process what happened, Orach materialized before him. In one fluid motion, he raised his leg high.
Orach's cold teal eyes flashed. His foot came down like a hammer onto Citro's shoulder.
CRAAACK!
"AARRRGGGHHH!"
Citro's scream tore through the air as pain lanced through his vessel. The shoulder joint splintered under the force, grey energy seeping from widening cracks.
"You pinned Diana like this, didn't you?" Orach's voice was cold. He lifted his foot, placed it beneath Citro's body, and kicked upward. As the body lifted, Orach's hand shot out and seized Citro's throat in an iron grip.
Citro gasped, eyes widening as Orach's fingers tightened.
"Do you have any idea what it's taking me to hold back?" Orach's aura shifted as he spoke—the faint green tinge in his golden ki deepening, growing more primal. "To not abandon this realm and everyone in it? To keep my true power restrained when I could tear this entire lower realm apart just to show you what real despair looks like?"
His grip tightened. Citro clawed at Orach's wrist, grey energy sparking uselessly against the crushing hold.
"I raised that girl." Orach's voice dropped to something colder, more dangerous. "She's my daughter. My princess. My heir."
The green in his aura intensified. Rachel's unconscious form flashed through his mind—suspended in the med pod, the dark imprint of Citro's hand still visible around her throat.
"And you—" His fingers constricted further, eliciting a strangled gasp from the Tuffle Emperor. "You put your filthy hands around her neck. You tried to choke the life out of her."
Citro's struggles grew desperate, legs kicking uselessly as Orach lifted him higher.
"Keep struggling." Orach's expression remained unreadable. "Fight with everything you have. Because you've awakened something in me I thought I'd moved past."
Grey energy flickered erratically around Citro's vessel. The power surging through him healed critical injuries even as it carved deeper cracks into the body itself—empowering and consuming in equal measure. The vessel's vitality couldn't withstand the strain much longer. It was approaching complete collapse.
'The vessel… won't hold much longer. Minutes at most. I need… to end this… now!'
The Tuffle gene pulsed violently. Grey energy exploded from Citro's body in a full-power burst that forced Orach to release his grip. The shockwave drove them apart, and Citro used the momentum to create distance, hands already weaving complex patterns. Grey energy traced intricate formations across the sky above him.
'Even if I can't interact with the Laws directly, I can still force them to serve me.'
His cracked face twisted into a grim smile. "Your mercy is your weakness, boy. Don't blame me for exploiting it. Witness what I perfected during the Great War!"
The completed formation pulsed and shone brightly as energy interacted with the Primordial Laws of Light. Dozens of thin lances materialized—each vibrating with concentrated piercing force. They hung in the air like a deadly constellation.
"Stellar Resonators!"
The lances shot forward with terrifying speed, coming from multiple angles in a calculated pattern designed to be nearly inescapable.
Orach's enhanced perception tracked every trajectory. Time seemed to slow from his perspective as he calculated optimal responses. His body flowed between the attacks with minimal wasted movement—dodging some, deflecting others with precise ki barriers, and swatting aside the rest with hands wreathed in his ki.
But Citro had anticipated this. He treated the barrage as cover, using it to close the distance undetected. In a heartbeat, he materialized behind Orach with his palm thrust forward. Grey energy swirled into a concentrated point, vibrating at a specific frequency—a technique designed to bypass physical armor and energy barriers, striking directly at internal organs. A killing technique perfected during the Great War.
"Zero Point Execution: Internal Collapse!"
Orach's instincts screamed in warning. He twisted at the last instant—the attack meant for his spine caught his shoulder instead. His armor blazed, absorbing most of the impact, but he felt the technique's insidious nature trying to burrow deeper.
Orach gritted his teeth and pressed through the pain. Using momentum from his spin, he drove his elbow—wreathed in concentrated golden ki—into Citro's sternum with devastating force.
BOOM!
The impact sent Citro flying. Deep cracks spider-webbed across his vessel toward the core. Blood poured from his mouth as he barely stabilized mid-air, grey energy flickering unstably.
"Impossible..." Citro's thoughts raced as he watched Orach straighten, seemingly unharmed. "Not only has your power increased dramatically—your perception, reaction speed, even tactical awareness has jumped to another level. This transformation doesn't just multiply strength—it elevates everything." His eyes narrowed with grudging respect mixed with growing dread. "How? What kind of evolution allows such comprehensive enhancements?"
"That's what it means to be a Saiyan," Orach replied, voice carrying across the distance. "We evolve through battle. Every challenge makes us stronger. Every limit we break opens new possibilities." His eyes flashed. "And you, Ancient Emperor, are nothing but a stepping stone on my path."
Citro's expression darkened. His vessel was failing—he could feel it collapsing with each passing second. The rate of deterioration had finally outpaced his regeneration. Retreat was no longer an option; this Saiyan would hunt him down. There was only one path left.
"Then I'll destroy you before you evolve any further!" Citro's voice carried absolute resolve. "Even if it costs me this vessel—even if it sets my plans back centuries—I refuse to let an anomaly like you live!"
Grey energy erupted around Citro in a desperate surge. The energy condensed into a massive sphere above him, pulsing with unstable power. Lightning arced through the grey storm as he channeled everything his Peak King Stage vessel could offer.
The sheer pressure forced Orach back a step, golden aura flaring defensively.
'He's staking everything on this strike. But something feels off—why make such an obvious show of it? Unless…'
"TAKE THIS!"
Citro thrust his hands forward. The massive sphere launched toward Orach with terrifying speed, warping space in its wake.
Orach dropped into a defensive stance, golden ki surging outward in layered barriers as the sphere collided with catastrophic force.
BOOOOOOM!
The explosion consumed everything within miles—a blinding collision of grey and gold that carved hundreds of feet into the devastated landscape. Through his barriers, Orach felt the immense weight pressing against him. His muscles strained as the impact continued.
Finally, with a surge of power, he shattered the attack. His aura blazed through the dissipating energy, lightning crackling around him.
"Is that all?" Orach called out through the smoke.
But in the next instant, his instincts screamed a warning.
A figure burst through the smoke directly behind him. Citro, moving faster than at any point in their battle, his cracked vessel glowing with unstable intensity.
"GOT YOU!"
Before Orach could fully react, Citro latched onto him. Grey energy tendrils erupted from his body, binding them together like chains. Orach immediately tried to break free, his aura exploding outward, but the tendrils held firm—Citro was using more soul power to maintain the hold.
"What—" Orach's eyes widened as he felt Citro's energy spike violently, the signature shifting into something unstable and chaotic.
"The sphere was bait," Citro gasped, blood streaming from his eyes and nose. His cracked face twisted into something between triumph and agony. "I just needed three seconds of distraction." Light blazed from within his vessel, fractures spreading across his skin like spider webs. "This body's finished anyway. Might as well make it count."
"Release me!" Orach snarled, golden energy erupting in waves, but Citro's grip only tightened.
Citro's face drew closer, that blood-streaked smile still visible. "We die together, Saiyan. At least I'll take one more of you savages with me."
BOOOOOOOM!
The vessel detonated at point-blank range. Every ounce of remaining power released in a single catastrophic burst. The explosion consumed everything within its radius, a sphere of pure annihilation that rippled across the hemisphere. What little structural integrity the planet had left finally gave way—massive chunks of surface broke free and drifted into the void.
The blast hurled Orach downward like a meteor. He carved through layers of rock, trailing smoke and flickering golden energy, before crashing at the bottom of a canyon-sized crater. Tons of debris buried him.
Silence fell, broken only by settling rubble and the planet's dying groans.
High above, something moved through the dissipating smoke—a tiny bead pulsing with faint grey light. It shot upward. Within that compressed form, Citro's consciousness stirred.
'Even Super Saiyan 3 shouldn't survive that at point-blank range. The vessel's gone, but I preserved what matters. The Tuffle gene core holds my soul, my knowledge, a fragment of my power. I'll return to the Higher Realms. Find a new vessel. Rebuild over centuries if I must. Everything can be recovered as long as I survive.'
In the explosion's final instant, he'd channeled his soul power into this desperate gambit—compressing his essence into the densest fragments of his vessel's core, forming this bead. Now it accelerated toward the spatial rift overhead, its edges already beginning to collapse. He pushed forward with the last wisps of dispersing energy.
'Just a little farther... and I'll be home.'