Panic seized Kaiyo's throat like an icy claw. His family. His mother, bleeding and exhausted. His father, still out on patrol, oblivious. They were all targets now. Frieza's retribution was absolute. His mind raced, scrolling frantically through his System interface. Ki Pool: 42/1200. Useless. Gravity Sphere? Too slow, too draining. Spatial Compression tree? Micro-Singularity greyed out. Event Horizon Shield locked. No, no, no! He needed power now.
Numbers flashed: his pathetic 1,200 max Ki, his mother's 5,200 – a gnat against Zarbon's thousands. The Charisma Subtree mocked him, locked behind vague "social milestones." He couldn't talk his way out of this. He needed to cheat harder. But how? The System's rules were ironclad... except for Limit Breaker. The thought was a spike of pure terror. Unlocking something high-level without the Ki or understanding? It could shred his soul. But the alternative was watching his mother's head pop like Goran's.
Kira slumped against the counter, her breathing shallow, ragged. Her eyes, usually fierce slits scanning for threats, were wide, unfocused. She flinched at the grinding sound of a distant transport ship passing overhead – a sound she'd normally ignore. Her tail, usually a controlled weapon, trembled against her thigh like a frightened animal. "He... he didn't even look angry, Kaiyo," she whispered, her voice raw, stripped of its warrior's rasp. "Just... bored. Like crushing us was... tidying up." Her knuckles were bone-white where she gripped the counter edge, not in defiance, but to keep herself upright. This wasn't the fear of a battle lost; it was the suffocating dread of absolute, arbitrary power.
A Saiyan conditioned for conquest, for rage, reduced to a trembling creature awaiting extermination. Her gaze darted to the door again, then to the darkening sky visible through the small viewport. Every shadow held Zarbon's smile. Every silence screamed his arrival.
Kaiyo dropped the half-eaten ration pouch. The bland paste tasted like ashes. His mind was a whirlwind of System screens – greyed-out options, pathetic numbers mocking him. 1,200 Ki. Gravity Sphere Lvl 1. Useless toys against a force that flicked heads off like dandelions. He saw his mother's terror, the stark vulnerability in her posture.
The instinct to fight, to rage, warred with the chilling reality: any spark of defiance now was a death warrant. He stepped closer, not invading her space like Cade, but anchoring himself beside her trembling frame. He touched her shoulder lightly, feeling the tension coiled like steel wire beneath her skin. "Mom," he said, his voice low, urgent, cutting through her spiraling panic. "Look at me."
Kira flinched, her gaze snapping to his. The terror was still there, raw and primal, but beneath it, the fierce core of the warrior who'd survived countless battlefields flickered. Kaiyo held her stare, pouring every ounce of forced calm he could muster into his own eyes. "Breathe," he commanded, the word sharp. "Zarbon's not here. Yet." He emphasized the last word, turning it from a comfort into a call to action. "We move. Now. Before they lock down the sector." He scanned the small dome – home, suddenly a trap. Armor? Weapons? Useless against Zarbon. They needed distance. "Grab the emergency kit. Water. Rations. Med-gel. Nothing else." His voice was clipped, decisive. Survival mode engaged, pushing the terror down into a cold knot in his gut.
His mind raced, sifting through fragmented memories of a life lived through screens. Dragon Ball Z. Frieza. Time Chamber. The concept slammed into him with the force of revelation. Not Earth's chamber – impossibly far. But Frieza... he'd used one. On a planetoid near the edge of the system, a staging ground for elite forces. Planetoid Kappa-7. The name surfaced, sharp and clear. A place where a year could pass in a day. His eyes blazed. It was their only chance. He needed power. Real power.
Kaiyo grabbed his mother's shoulders, forcing her to focus. "Listen. I know a place. A way out. A way to survive." He saw the desperate hope warring with disbelief in her eyes. "But I need to go now. Alone. Faster that way." He lied smoothly, the urgency making it sound true. "Mom, please. Trust me. Hide. The deep caves near the southern thermal vents – the radiation will mask your signature. I will come back." He pressed a small, personal beacon into her hand – useless against Frieza's elites, but a symbol. "Just hide."
He didn't wait for her protest. He spun, kicking off the stone floor before she could speak, bursting out the dome entrance into the deepening twilight. He flew low and fast, skimming the jagged rooftops of the Low-Class sector, his ki flaring just enough to avoid crashing. Cade. He needed her. Not just her strength – 4,200 was a joke against Zarbon – but her mind. Her ruthlessness. Her ability to push him beyond his limits. The Chamber demanded a partner. She was the only one he could trust not to fold, or worse, betray him. He pictured her furious blush, her lethal focus.
The wind whipped at his face as he soared towards the Warrior Sector, the city lights blurring below. A year. A whole fucking year locked in a room with Cade. His mind raced past the training, the brutal sparring, the near-death drills. He imagined the sweat-slicked heat between them after a session, muscles trembling, adrenaline still singing. Her glare softening into something hotter. That sculpted ass pressed against him in the cramped chamber, her tail coiling possessively around his thigh.
He'd unlock Charisma, charm her relentlessly. Wear her down. Make her want it. Make her need it. He'd pin her against the timeless walls, her breath catching as he finally buried himself deep, her back arching, her sharp cries echoing in the endless void. A year was long enough to break down every barrier, every sharp word. Long enough to make her beg
He spotted her dome – larger, sturdier, marked with her family's crest. He landed hard on the landing pad, the impact jarring his bones. He didn't knock. He slammed his fist against the heavy stone door, the sound echoing like a drumbeat. "Cade!" he roared, his voice raw with urgency. "Open up! It's Kaiyo!!"
A moment later, the door slid open with a low groan. Cade stood there, bathed in the dim interior light. She looked tired, shadows under her sharp eyes. Her dark hair was loose, slightly messy, falling around her shoulders. She wore simple black shorts that hugged her hips and a plain black tank top, revealing the lean, powerful lines of her arms and shoulders. Her tail hung limp behind her, lacking its usual coiled tension. She blinked, her expression shifting from annoyance to weary resignation as she took in his frantic state – the dust, the split knuckles, the wild look in his eyes.
"Kaiyo?" she sighed, leaning against the doorframe, her voice thick with fatigue. "Stars, what now? Another 'training' epiphany? Or did your precious 'System' glitch again?" She rubbed her eyes. "It's late. My parents are on patrol. Whatever crazy scheme you've cooked up, it can wait till morning."
"No! It can't!" Kaiyo surged forward, grabbing her shoulders before she could retreat. He felt the solid muscle beneath his hands, the warmth of her skin. "Listen! My mom... Zarbon... Planetoid Zeta..." The words tumbled out in a frantic jumble – the purge, Goran's head, his mother's escape, the beacon signature, the inevitable hunt. "They'll come for her! For my dad! For anyone connected! They'll kill her, Cade! Like swatting a fly!" His voice cracked. "He's coming! Zarbon is coming here!"