Chapter 1 – Rebirth of a Royal Saiyan
Darkness.
It pressed in on every side, endless and heavy. A void that seemed to stretch without time, without breath, without sound. And yet, somewhere within that silence, faint memories flickered — battle cries, burning skies, the clash of warriors. A single word echoed through the abyss of his fading consciousness.
Saiyan.
The word carried both pride and burden, fading like smoke in the wind.
Then light.
Raiven's eyes opened for the first time. What greeted him was not fire nor battle, but warmth. A woman's arms cradled him gently, her expression soft in a way few Saiyans had ever seen. Her features carried both strength and grace — the refined bearing of royalty, yet softened by the tenderness of a mother.
"Raiven," she whispered, her voice low, as if the name itself must be guarded from the world. "My son."
He blinked, newborn eyes adjusting to the crimson-tinted skies that hung above Planet Vegeta. Towers of black stone rose in the distance, gleaming under the dying light of the world's sun. The air carried a weight of power, as though the planet itself pulsed with the fury of its warrior race. But in his mother's arms, he felt only warmth.
Raiven, though an infant, felt an odd clarity — a trace of the soul that had drifted through darkness moments before. His small body trembled, not from weakness, but from an instinct he could not name. Deep inside, something stirred. A power… sealed, waiting.
The Queen smiled faintly, brushing a strand of dark hair from his forehead. "You are not like the others," she whispered. "So quiet. So watchful. Perhaps that is your strength."
Her words would become truth.
---
Time on Planet Vegeta moved with brutal swiftness. Saiyan infants were usually tested the the moment they could crawl, their potential measured by the ferocity of their cries or the strength of their tiny fists. But Raiven was different. He did not thrash wildly. He did not roar like a cub demanding battle. He was calm, his tail coiled neatly around his waist even as a child — as if he already understood the need for control.
The Queen carried him often through the cold, echoing halls of the palace. Soldiers saluted as she passed, though many cast subtle glances at the boy in her arms. Whispers followed in hushed tones.
"Not like the Prince."
"Too quiet."
"Perhaps unfit."
Their voices reached the Queen, but she ignored them. Still, she tightened her hold around Raiven each time.
One day, the King himself appeared at the far end of the training grounds. His presence was a storm given form, towering, draped in royal armor that seemed forged from fire itself. His eyes fell upon Raiven with a sharpness that pierced deeper than any blade.
For a long moment, he said nothing. Only a cold snort escaped him before he turned away, muttering, "Another weak cub. Nothing more."
The Queen's lips pressed into a thin line, but she did not speak. Instead, she stroked her son's head, whispering so only he could hear. "He sees only what lies on the surface. But I… I know better."
---
Raiven's world expanded in fragments. He saw Prince Vegeta, already at three years old, standing in the center of a blazing training arena. Flames of Ki roared around the boy like a crown, his strikes fierce, precise, filled with arrogance. Soldiers praised loudly, declaring the Prince the pride of their race.
From her seat at the edge, the Queen held Raiven close. The infant watched with wide, steady eyes. His brother's power was undeniable, yet Raiven did not cry or shrink away. Instead, his gaze was calm, almost calculating — as though memorizing every movement.
The Queen felt his small hand curl into her robes, gripping tightly. "Do not compare yourself," she whispered. "Your path is not his. It is your own."
---
That night, under the cold light of Planet Vegeta's twin moons, the Queen sat by the window of her chamber, rocking Raiven gently. He had been restless, his breathing shallow, as though something deep inside him fought to awaken.
Then it happened.
A flicker of light shimmered across his small frame. At first it was faint, like a star's reflection on water. But then it grew, pulsing with quiet strength. A thin aura of silver-blue Ki rippled from his body, pressing outward with unnatural density. It was not the raging fire of a Saiyan's battle power, nor the crackling blaze of combat energy. It was older. Colder. A force that hummed like an ancient echo.
The Queen's eyes widened. She felt it in her bones — a pressure unlike anything she had known. This was no ordinary power. It was… something lost to time.
Inside Raiven's mind, a voice stirred for the first time. Cold. Mechanical.
[God Level Training System Initiating…]
[User Detected: Raiven]
[Mystique Core… Recognized]
[System Functions Locked. Growth Required.]
The words faded as quickly as they came, vanishing into silence.
Raiven's tiny brow furrowed as though in pain. The glow danced around him before fading, retreating inward, leaving only silence. His breaths steadied again.
The Queen pressed him close, heart pounding. "The Mystique Core…" she whispered, a name torn from forbidden memory. "It lives in you."
Her grip tightened. She knew instantly what this meant. A power that ancient would draw suspicion, perhaps even fear. If the King knew, if Frieza sensed it… her son would never be safe.
She leaned down, her voice trembling though her face remained calm. "No one must ever know. Not yet."
Raiven stirred faintly in her arms, his dark eyes half-closed but glimmering with a strange depth. As though he understood her words. As though the soul inside him was listening.
The Queen closed her eyes, holding him tighter. Outside the window, the twin moons bathed the palace in silver light, casting long shadows across the halls of the Saiyan race. Shadows that whispered of storms to come.
---
The infant Raiven slept soundly, but within his tiny chest, the Mystique Core pulsed like a buried star — waiting for the day it would awaken in full.
And so the first year of his life passed beneath the gaze of a mother who saw both danger and destiny in her son. While the rest of the palace judged him weak, while the King dismissed him as unworthy, she alone knew the truth.
That this child carried within him an ancient fire.
That this quiet boy, born in the shadow of a Prince, might one day burn brighter than them all.
---
The Queen stood by the window, Raiven asleep in her arms, the memory of that silver-blue aura still burning in her mind. Her voice was soft, but carried iron resolve.
"You will live, Raiven. You will grow. And when the time comes, the universe will know the power that sleeps within you."