Chapter 2 – Shadows of the Throne
The throne hall of Planet Vegeta was vast and unyielding, a fortress of power carved into polished black stone. Crimson banners hung from towering pillars, each embroidered with the sigil of the royal bloodline—the House of Vegeta. Torches blazed against the cold air, their flames flickering with restless energy, as if bowing to the will of the King who sat upon the elevated seat at the far end.
King Vegeta's eyes burned like embers, sharp and full of judgment, surveying all who dared step into his presence. At his side, however, stood a gentler presence—the Queen. Serra's hair shimmered like dark silk, and her beauty carried both warmth and pride, qualities rarely found in the hardened race of Saiyans. In her arms, swaddled in fine cloth, rested the newborn child who would soon challenge fate itself.
Raiven.
Though he had only just entered the world, his eyes were wide, gleaming with awareness. Unlike most Saiyan infants who wailed or thrashed, he was still—silent, but not weak. His tail coiled tightly around his waist, instinctively concealing itself like a serpent at rest. His tiny body radiated faint heat, though none noticed the deep pulse of power hidden within him.
From the King's throne came a low hum of discontent. Vegeta's lips curved downward. "So this is the boy you've guarded so closely?" His voice carried disdain, heavy and sharp. "He doesn't even cry. Is he mute?"
The words cut deeper than steel.
Raiven's small fists tightened against the Queen's embrace. His heart, though infantile in form, throbbed with indignation.
Mute? No… just quiet. I don't waste breath proving myself to you.
Queen Serra's gaze hardened, though she kept her voice smooth. "He is stronger than he appears. Do not mistake silence for weakness, my King. He carries my bloodline."
"Hmph." The King leaned back, crossing his arms. His eyes narrowed to slits, cold as iron. "Your bloodline has produced nothing that rivals the might of the Saiyan throne. Strength alone defines us. If he survives the next decade, then perhaps he will prove otherwise."
Raiven's eyes flickered. His infant body could not speak, but his mind voice hissed with quiet fire.
I'll survive. More than that, I'll surpass. You'll see.
Queen Serra stroked his hair gently, sensing his tension. Her warmth was unlike the King's harshness. "Shh, little one… hold on to that fire. Someday, it will blaze brighter than any star."
As if summoned by fate, the doors of the throne hall creaked open. A tiny figure strode forward, escorted by attendants but already brimming with authority. Prince Vegeta, not yet three years old, carried himself with a sharpness uncommon for one so young. His hair jutted upward in its familiar crown, and his dark eyes were already filled with pride. His presence, though small in size, pulled at the air like a blade unsheathed.
The King's expression softened ever so slightly. "My son," he said, satisfaction curling at the edges of his lips.
The attendants bowed low as Prince Vegeta walked forward. Even at his age, his energy crackled faintly, drawing stares. The King's chest swelled with pride at the sight of his heir.
Raiven's gaze locked on Vegeta, his mind stirring.
So this is him. The Prince. The one they will all compare me to.
Though his body was small, the faint hum of his Mystique Core throbbed inside him, ancient and untamed. He could feel something stirring—something old, something vast. His tiny heartbeat raced.
And then it came.
[Initializing…]
A voice, clear and mechanical, whispered in the depths of his consciousness.
Raiven's eyes widened ever so slightly. The sound was not heard by anyone else—it was inside him, unseen, unheard.
[God Level Training System – Prototype Mode Engaged]
[Synchronization: 12% Complete]
A faint screen flickered before his inner eye, simple and brief:
---
[Status]
Power Level: 6,800 (Suppressed)
State: Infant (Growth restricted)
Special Core: Mystique Core – Dormant, Awaiting Trigger
---
Raiven's breath caught, though none noticed.
What… is this? His mind reeled. A system? It's… speaking to me. Six thousand eight hundred? Even suppressed? No wonder I feel different…
His tail twitched unconsciously beneath the cloth. His eyes shifted back to the throne where the King looked down upon him with dismissal.
If only you knew… You call me weak, but this power… It's mine. It's waiting. And one day, I'll show you.
Prince Vegeta glanced at him briefly, frowning at the strange infant in his mother's arms. He gave no words, but his eyes narrowed, sizing him up instinctively. Raiven returned the stare, unblinking. Though he could not speak aloud, his mind voice surged with resolve.
I won't bow. Not to you. Not to him. Not to anyone.
The Queen looked down at her child, and for an instant, she saw a flicker in his gaze—sharp, focused, almost defiant. She smiled faintly, whispering in a tone too soft for anyone else to hear.
"Your destiny is not bound by this throne, Raiven. Yours lies far beyond these walls."
Raiven's small body finally relaxed against her arms. His eyelids grew heavy, the weight of his infant form dragging him toward rest. But as darkness closed in, his inner voice whispered one last vow to himself.
I'll grow. I'll endure. And when the time comes, I'll rise higher than any Saiyan before me.
Above the hall, the flames flickered. Beyond the palace, the stars glimmered in silence, as if bearing witness. And deep within Raiven's soul, the God Level Training System remained—its hum quiet, patient, waiting for the day it would fully awaken.