Chapter 1: Brave New World

The following is a Story-Focused Narrative between Sparga and Mokaryu̅.

Post Order shall proceed as follows:

Sparga > Mokaryu̅ > Repeat
Additional participants may be approved for inclusion at the consent of both Writers.

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There was a strange sense of peace that went reverberated in his heart as he flew overhead through the skyline up above Parsley City. The knowledge that somehow, against all odds and all the tribulations, his efforts were beginning to bear fruit was something he thought might never occur. Sparga always assumed his goal of restoring the symbol on his uniform as an ideal of hope would be an uphill climb that even his strength could never lift without difficulty. But somehow, one way or another, the people of Earth weren’t totally afraid of him anymore. There was still a large majority of the population who were - the scars left by Kal’s tyrannical regime would never truly go away, nor would the memories of those who bore those injuries. But that was the burden that the Saiyan-Kryptonian hybrid accepted when he took on his adoptive father’s mantle and legacy, however tarnished it is. He hadn’t expected to polish some of that blemish off of such a heavy responsibility any time soon, but somehow or another, there was a decent forty percent of Earth’s population who were at least open to hearing him out. It fluctuated up and down between thirty-five percent, sure, and his comrades constantly told him not to worry too much about it. But the symbol he wore meant something to him - and it used to mean something to the world too. And that meant notion meant more to him than the idea of him actually wearing the crest.
He fought tooth and nail, even against his own long-lost flesh and blood, because he believed in that ideal so fiercely. So ardently. And somehow, the universe heard his passion. And the memory of Kal-El the tyrant was slowly being pieced over by the whispers of Sparga the idealist. There were plenty of intergalactic warlords who always came to test whether or not the new Superman did in fact defeat and usurp the previous one, eager to prove themselves as the top of the interstellar food chain. But none had succeeded. Sparga was settling into his new position as Superman well over these past few four years since his departure from the Time Patrol.

It has been six months since Sparga’s triumph over the Kryptonian warlord who found a way to restore the Planet Krypton - now a barren and lifeless world waiting for occupation after his victory. But Sparga didn’t know what to do with an empty planet he never wanted in the first place. And four years prior to that since the Saiyan of Steel left the Time Patrol, four years since the multiverse was reshaped in a desperate effort to prevent its collapse. And somehow, only a handful of people ever actually noticed the difference, if they did at all. And another two years before that where Sparga actually defeated the man who raised him to restore the ideal of Superman as a symbol of hope. Sparga had kept himself busy in that time, desperately trying to help the people of Earth when he wasn’t preventing catastrophe or thwarting a galactic thug with a chip on their shoulder. If he didn’t know better, he’d believe that this remade Earth pieced together with parts of two worlds he’s lived in separately was in fact the only world he’d ever known. It was just… somehow too right. Like things were finally starting to make sense and come together for him. Things that he thought needed to be kept apart being made whole somehow gave him the clarity to start accepting all parts of himself at last, even parts he thought were ugly. It was like he couldn’t truly be Superman until he accepted those ugly parts of himself to bring his soul into balance.

And now that he had, it was like everything was finally falling into place.

A soft chirping beep in his ear alerted the Superman to his communicator to an incoming signal, and he let his flight’s momentum decline to a comfortable brake. Once his glide had stabilized into levitation, he lifted his hand up to press the button in his earpiece to open the signal and listen.

Sparga: “Go for Superman.”

Green Lantern: “Supes! Buddy! Please, listen. I’m telling ya! Justice Gang is NOT a good name! We’re almost done rebuilding the Hall, we deserve to call ourselves the Justice League! You’re almost done with your patrol, right? Come on back and I’ll show you my eighty-seven page power point about why we deserve to call ourselves the Justice League!”

Sparga: “... Miso, we’ve been over this. There’s only three of us. That’s not enough for– D-Did… you say eighty-seven pages?”
Miso: “I told you, bro! I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about this! It’s practically written in the stars, man!”

Sparga hovered silently for a few seconds longer than he’d have liked, shell-shocked by this looming danger. It beggared belief to even comprehend such a colossal magnitude. What the hell did he put in that power point to make it eighty-seven full pages?! Sparga knew he’d have to go back to the Hall of Justice sooner or later, but he was not about to tackle that fight without backup.

Miso: “Supes? Bro? You still there? Hellllooooo…. I know your radio is still on. You good?”

Sparga: “.... Yeeeaahhhh… Why don’t we wait for Braiselle to finish her patrol too before we worry about that, Lantern?”

Miso: “Good idea! I’ll radio her right now!”

Sparga winced, pitying the Green Lantern recruit for that if he actually bothered Braiselle with this. Not exactly eager to listen to those two fight again, he released the pressure of his finger off of his earpiece to cut the frequency and disable two-way communication. He wanted to actually keep his head in the game while he was out in the field. But for all intents and purposes, it was so peaceful and quiet right now that he wanted to just keep flying aimlessly. And if no criminal activity or dangers from beyond reared their head, he’d do exactly that. Earth always needed its Superman, and he was ever vigilant to remain its stalwart guardian. But right now, he was more than content to enjoy this rare moment of idyllic calm, for however long it lasts. This world, this universe, was still so new and had so much to offer upon its rebirth and union of its previously separate parts. And whatever lay in store across the horizon, he was ready to meet it.

 

[Prince Mokaryū]

Unbeknownst to the Heroes on Earth, a mass shape was moving through space with a presence that made it known that whoever was in the ship came to see what this primitive planet, Earth, had to offer to the lone figure who stood in the command deck, piloting the ship using their gravity ability to direct the ship, doing their absolute best not to hit the moon then it was a straight path towards the planet. It's possible that the inhabitants detected the ship once it reached their atmosphere. "Lets see what the people of earth will do first once detecting my ship," the person in a cloaked red and black-robed hood concealing most of their body and face, but subtle signs of their alien-like biology can be shown with the pink tail swishing and curling to the left side, black and red high heels with blue rings around the ankles.

 

[Sparga]

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As with all good things, the idyllic and tranquil peace that carried throughout the day was bound to come to an inevitable end. In his vigilance and stalwart awareness, the subtle shift of vibrational resonance pinged in the deepest corner of Sparga’s attention. It was faint, almost imperceptible even for him. But that intrusion into the back of his perception was something not so easily overlooked, given how quiet the day had been. As he hovered above the city skyline, Sparga’s gaze lifted up past the clouds and toward the heavens above, brow furrowing in focus. Was it another invader from beyond the stars? Or someone coming in search of aid? The Superman wouldn’t know until he investigated.

Before he could act, his communicator pinged again in his ear and the voice on the other side chimed off. The emergency line breached through his disconnect, unifying the frequencies to alert all necessary parties.

Miso: “Whoa, whoa. Scanners indicate something big coming up on our atmosphere.”

Sparga: “I felt it. It’s not moving too fast, but it’s definitely coming toward us. I’m heading towards it now.”

Miso: “You want a hand with it? I can be up there in half a second.”

Sparga: “No, hang back for now. Let’s play this one smart and not throw guns at it right away…"

Before the Green Lantern on the other end of his communicator could respond, the Saiyan Kryptonian hybrid’s elevation level suddenly bolted into a higher altitude when his velocity ignited. The air behind him dragged into a conal displacement as his body forcibly pushed through the atmosphere so swiftly that the oxygen particles slammed into and dragged at one another in compression. As his body shot through the air, the ripple of sound waves lagged behind him, pulling into a cone that burst into detonation as he broke the sound barrier with startling ease. The shockwave that followed sounded akin to a thundercrack as Sparga blew past the atmospheric layers of the planet and into empty space.

As he soared across the endless void toward his destination, Sparga caught sight of his objective. And in no time at all, he swiftly flew toward it. His hybrid biology’s unique traits made it so he didn’t require oxygen in the vacuum of space, granting him a degree of comfort in his travel toward his destination, and when he came within the ship’s proximity, he immediately let his momentum slow to a crawl before stopping at what he assumed was the bridge’s windshield. Should the occupants be within view, they’d catch sight of the male clad in a tight, form-fitting compression suit that left nothing of his sculpted musculature to the imagination and draped with loose-fitting black hakama chaps tucked into black boots. Sections of his uniform were accented with deep red bracers and hip armor wrapped with a black sash. His distinctive silhouette was enhanced by the large mane of bushy black spiked hair that cascaded down past his waistline and furry prehensile tail swaying behind him without a care in the world. But what stood out the most, aside from that impossibly wild and thick mane of spikey long hair, was the bright red S emblazoned across a shield-shaped crest embroidered in almost leather-like plating on his suit’s chest in full display as if proudly announcing who and what he was.

His right hand lifted to stretch out with his palm facing upward so he could wrap the knuckle of his index finger’s phalangeal joint against the ship’s hull and windshield as if knocking on the door casually. His posture was effortless, unperturbed, and nonchalant as he did so, shoulders slack and an impossibly friendly, but subtly overconfident smirk on his features. He knocked gently, but obviously and boldly, to announce his presence and alert the ship’s occupants that they were being greeted at the door.

His expression was confident and calm, and he carried no air of hostility. He knocked only once, letting his knuckle wrap a few times gently to ring against the ship to get their attention before deigning to wait patiently for whoever was inside this ship to make themselves known.

 

[Prince Mokaryū]

They smirk under the hood upon sensing a being leaving the planet and flying towards the ship, getting a close-up and the ship scanning this individual, knocking, a robotic voice spoke in the intercom, "Lifeform identified as a hybrid specimen, Kryptonion and Saiyan in origin. From earth's history, this being seem to have saved it and the inhabitants but approach with caution." after learning this, the individual removes the hood revealing a feminine woman with purple-pink hair, pointy ears, pink skin and penetrating purple eyes, a member of a species beyond the north galaxy sector. Flicking her wrist, the window of her command deck opens, and she steps forward where the light of the sun can shine on her, giving Sparga a good look of her before she subtly raises a hand that twitched before flexing outwards, sending shrunken magic shard projectiles intending to impale him in a suprise attack then follow with a spear if he manages to dodge her attacks and retaliate.

 

[Sparga]

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The hydraulic hiss of the hatch releasing the pressure from the cabin told Sparga that the hatch was opening, which he waited patiently for. His aura and posture were still those of utmost confidence that leaned toward smugness, his expression still nestled somewhere between affable and arrogant. When he finally caught a full glimpse of the inhabitant unfiltered to see a woman, he tilted his head back just a bit and gave her a cursory scan to study her. Who was she and what did she want? His expression lightened more towards friendly, hoping this wasn’t another invasion that he’d deal with in one or two punches as he spoke.

Sparga: “Hey there, friend. You need-”

And then when her subtle hand gesture cut him off with the release of projectiles, he caught his breath with a sharp gasp. Another slow exhale emptied out of his lungs as he lifted his hand up from his side to feel the flow of liquid draining from his arm and shoulder where the impact hit, piercing him in a way that wasn’t common. Why would he expect her to possess any sort of magical artifact or ability? Whatever she had, he was no stranger to pain as the sensation registered in his senses. He lifted his hand to confirm the familiar color of blood on his fingertips where the shards had torn through his bio-electric aura and suit to buffet him with shards of… something. He knew magic when he felt it, but such small shards weren’t enough to thoroughly impale or shred through his dense physique. But the Superman could now confirm that she had a way to bypass his innate defenses and resistances. That meant he couldn’t take chances with this one. Someone had done their homework before coming to pick a fight for a change, at least.

It also confirmed that whoever she was, she wasn’t going to waste time talking for a change, and that she wasn’t here to be friendly. His mind instantly realized these conclusions faster than a millisecond’s frame might play out. And before she might make her next move, his body instinctively kicked into gear.

Faster than fast might have been an understatement as he fought through the discomfort of the shards still embedded in his chest and shoulders that were digging into him, deepening the minor wounds into something more inconvenient. But he wasn’t going to play games with this, regardless of his own discomfort. Like the scenes of a movie reel spliced out, one moment the woman would be watching Sparga stare at the blood on his hand, and then the next he was across the distance between them with his fist cocked back and dark brown eyes sizzling an ember red glow of intense heat. And with that same speed, his reared and chambered fist flew to deliver a savage blow. Should impact be confirmed, the woman would find her jaw rocked with a force of staggering magnitude - like something three times the size of her vessel slamming into her face at ten times its maximum speed. All he could assess so far was that she had to have some vague knowledge of him if she knew to exploit his weaknesses, but that blow - if it landed true - would tell her that his strength far exceeded whatever parameters she was told. The Superman lived up to his reputation.

Should his fist connect as desired, he’d grimace through the pain of having the shrapnel digging into his hide and begin trying to wipe the fragments out and off of him to keep them from chewing their way deeper. Now he was sharp and on edge, vigilant with his super senses hyper alert and aware - Mind and Body as One with his attention honed and his body ready to react to anything that came his way. And as his senses and body primed to readiness to react at a hair trigger’s provocation, he spoke.

Sparga: “Only gonna say this once. You don’t want this fight, lady. Turn your ship around and go back to where you came from.”

Senses sharp and attentive so that he might be more on guard this time for whatever she might be respond with, he gave his warning to beseech her to see reason. Sparga had hoped that this is not how his day would go.

 

[Prince Mokaryū]

Mokaryu noticed how quickly he crossed the distance after seeing what she embedded into his chest and shoulder, mid-flight to spear him now forced to maneuver and feel his punch graze her cheek, leaving a cut there as she would feel a slight trickle of blood as they pass by each other but flew a yards back to keep her ship from taking damage "Oh really? The fun has only begun hybrid kin" she says before releasing her own Ki that felt like gravity that threatened to weigh down but the sensation were merely effecting the sensory of anyone close to her. Her pink aura settled down but kept a glow around her as she gestured to him to bring it after getting into a unfamiliar fighting stance "I have heard stories of your progress and victory from other species across the galaxy, now i have come to test that myself," she says before licking the blood off her cheek with an elongated tongue, then winks at him "Show me"

 

[Sparga]

Post Order shall be updated as follows

Sparga > Mokaryu̅ > Rutaba > Repeat

Per this update, Rutaba may post and posting order will resume as normal

​

 

[Rutaba]

A strange, crushing pressure suddenly blanketed the sky above Parsley City.

Rutaba had been lounging on the edge of a crumbling rooftop, munching on a stolen bag of snacks, when the feeling hit him like a tidal wave. One moment the afternoon was calm. The next, the air itself felt heavier, thicker, as if the planet was groaning under the weight of two colossal powers clashing far above the clouds. One energy felt vast and steady, like an unstoppable mountain. The other felt… wrong. Twisted. Like gravity itself had been sharpened into a blade.

His tail flicked behind him. A wild grin slowly spread across the young Saiyan’s face as his dark eyes sparkled with excitement.

“No way… that’s insane!” he whispered to himself, heart already pounding. Whoever was up there, they were strong. Strong enough that even from the surface he could feel it in his bones. A nervous thrill shot through his stomach, but that only made the fire in his chest burn hotter. He crushed the empty snack bag in his fist and tossed it aside.

The rooftop cracked beneath his feet as blue ki exploded around his small frame in wild, crackling bursts streaked with fiery orange-red sparks. Without another second of hesitation, Rutaba launched himself skyward. Wind screamed past his ears and whipped at his spiky hair while the ground fell away beneath him. The higher he climbed, the heavier the pressure became. It pressed down on his shoulders and chest like invisible chains, trying to drag him back to the planet. His muscles burned. Sweat flew from his brow. But Rutaba only grit his teeth and pushed harder, forcing more power into his flight.

If they’re that strong, I can’t just sit around down there! I have to see this!

The atmosphere tore open around him as he broke through the clouds and kept climbing. Stars replaced blue sky. The vacuum of space should have been silent and freezing, but the sheer force radiating from the battle ahead made everything feel alive and electric. His breath came fast and excited as he finally crested the curve of the planet and laid eyes on the scene.

A massive alien ship hovered in the void, sleek and imposing. In front of it floated a tall Saiyan hybrid unlike anyone Rutaba had ever seen. The man’s long, wild black hair cascaded down his back like a mane, and a bright red-and-black “S” crest gleamed on his chest. Blood trickled from wounds on his shoulder and chest, staining the tight black-and-red uniform. Despite the injury, the hybrid carried himself with calm, overwhelming confidence.

Across from him hovered a pink-skinned woman with sharp purple-pink hair and piercing eyes. A menacing pink aura surrounded her, thick with a gravity-like pressure that made Rutaba’s stomach twist. She wore a dark red-and-black cloak that billowed in the vacuum, and her long tail swayed lazily behind her as she smirked.

Rutaba slowed to a stop a respectful (but not too respectful) distance away. His blue ki continued to snap and flare around him as he stared wide-eyed at the two warriors. The woman had actually drawn blood from that mountain of a Saiyan. That realization sent a chill down his spine, but it also lit a reckless fire in his chest.

She’s no joke… but he’s still standing like it’s nothing. This is crazy!

His tail lashed excitedly behind him. Even though his body screamed that these two were on a completely different level, Rutaba refused to back down. He floated a little closer, fists clenched at his sides, trying to look braver than he felt.

The hybrid was saying something to the woman, voice calm but edged with warning. Before Rutaba could make out the words, the pink-skinned fighter shifted into an unfamiliar stance, her aura flaring brighter. The gravitational pressure thickened even more.

That was enough.

Rutaba cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted at the top of his lungs, his young voice cutting clearly through the silence of space thanks to his ki.

“HEY!! What’s going on up here?!”

He floated forward a bit more, blue-orange ki flaring brighter around his body as he stared between the two powerhouses with a mixture of awe, nervousness, and pure Saiyan excitement burning in his eyes.

“You two are throwing around crazy power! If you’re gonna fight… at least let me watch up close!” A bold, cheeky grin broke across his face. “Or better yet — can I jump in?!”

His heart hammered wildly in his chest. Part of him knew he was probably way out of his depth. But the other part — the louder, hungrier part — didn’t care. This was the kind of fight he’d been waiting for. The kind that could push him to grow stronger.

Rutaba hovered there, small but defiant, tail whipping behind him as he waited to see how the two titans would react to the loud little Saiyan who had just invited himself to their battlefield.

 

[Sparga]

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She had good reflexes; he couldn’t deny that. But he was admittedly pulling his punch with that warning shot. The Saiyan of Steel’s focus was honed into tight efficiency while he readied himself for this encounter. But seeing that he had drawn blood when his knuckle cut through her cheek told him plenty - All he’d need is one good hit. The confidence still brimmed from his posture, shoulders still set in a wide stance like he was utterly convinced this wouldn’t be a problem for him. The rush of energy that permeated from her body in rosy, blush colored hues signaled to him both visually and spiritually that she was releasing some of the power hidden within. And as she did so, he felt the rush of gravity intensify in the void of space. The weight bore down on him with full force, but for a warrior who had previously shrugged off the crushing pressure of a black hole like it were a minor inconvenience, Sparga stood resolute. If she could control gravity, she’d have to up the ante to get him to buckle.

And when finally she spoke, he’d have finished wiping away the shards from his chest by that point. When she gestured for him to continue, he couldn’t help but smirk with a light chuckle that vibrated in his throat and caused his shoulders to rock. He admired the confidence if she knew who he was. But against a Superman, she’d find her own efforts to be thwarted as equally as the past stories she had heard. When her elongated tongue slithered out to wipe the blood dribbling from the cut on her features, his expression maintained itself in a schooled poker face.

Sparga: “Oh, so you can talk. Good, then that means you understand. I’ll give you this chance, I was having a good day. So please. Please do the smart thing here.”

His hyper vigilant awareness of his surroundings pinged at the drumming intrusion of another heartbeat entering the vicinity, causing him to quirk an eyebrow ever so faintly. He kept his countenance stoic but if one might look close enough, they’d see the ever so subtle lift of one brow over the other. And then he turned toward the direction of the incoming presence and his eyes went wide with shock.

Watching the child call out to them and ask if he could watch, or worse, join in set Sparga into a spiral. This was not what he needed right now. The familiar furry prehensile tail swaying behind the boy told him all of what he needed to know, wordlessly informing him of the “why.” But the how was another question entirely. Questions that he’d worry about later.

In time so short that it beggared belief, Sparga snapped his gaze back toward the woman with his dark brown eyes glowing bright red with heat once more. And faster than a bolt of lightning could crack across the sky, heat discharged from his retina with concussive force and scarlet scorching haze.

His Heat Vision screeched across the distance toward the woman to burn with heat that dwarfed the sun’s surface - but only for a split second, any longer and he was worried he’d actually hurt her from the proximity of such heat alone. Temperatures like that of a lightning bolt (30,000 kelvin) exploded from his pupils in the form of a widespread wave that encompassed his entire field of vision so that if it washed over the woman, the force of the blast might knock her off of her feat and give a more thorough warning shot that he wasn’t going to make whatever she wanted easy.

The beam that discharged from his eyes was wide, a good 5 feet in diameter to make evasion a little more difficult. But regardless of whether or not she took the blast head on by choice or not, or if she evaded, Sparga propelled himself off to the side toward the child who had entered the battlefield. He used his large frame to try and cover the boy entirely to grant him a shield while he loomed over.

Sparga: “What are you doing here, kid!? It’s not safe!”

While his musculature and physique offered cover to protect the child from whatever attacks she might throw after his actions played out, he kept his super senses alert and hyper aware to maintain cognizance of whatever spike in energy or action she might produce in case he might need to grab the kid and dodge or if retaliatory strikes might be necessary. The fight was just starting, but now he had other things to worry about…

He couldn’t afford to let his guard down, doubly so now.

 

[Prince Mokaryū]

Mokaryū let out a velvety giggle upon hearing him ask her to do the smart thing, something she did not want to do after traveling many miles from her homeworld to face this man before her. However, he clearly didn't want to fight, but she did. Detecting a smaller ki signature approaching them from the planet below, then hearing the boy ask what was going on, then shifting to asking to watch, which made her smile subtly, yet what made her show interest was the boy asking to join the fight. Mokaryū went to reply to the boy, but heard a sizzling sound from the older male's direction, which set her instincts screaming to move. She looked up to see him firing a beam that emitted intense heat, forcing her to shrink herself to a much smaller form and fly at full speed toward them, but she didn't plan to attack yet since a child was there.

Mokaryū flew in a lower arc, moving beneath them both, then shut down her technique to bring her to her normal size. Her appearance up close to both Sparga and Rutaba, showing she ain't attacking, "Little one, you would seriously get hurt in this scuffle, but you may watch on my ship, me and this man here has some.....business to take care of," she says, patting his head before removing the cloak and draping it over his smaller body that is swallowed by it. Turning towards Sparga with a mischievous glint in her eyes, she waves to him to follow towards the planet, which, at the same time, the ship began moving if Rutaba decided to sit on it will experience a ride towards the planet "Come, Warrior of earth" Mokaryū says then flew faster towards a large area of ocean away from the city but the planet's gravity felt lighter than how heavy her own world's gravity is.

 

[Rutaba]

Rutaba barely had time to register the older Saiyan moving before the universe suddenly blurred around him.

One second the towering hybrid had been several yards away facing the pink-skinned woman. The next, he was directly in front of Rutaba like a living wall, his massive frame completely blocking the boy’s view while waves of scorching heat rolled past on both sides. Even shielded by the larger warrior’s body, Rutaba could still feel the intense temperature prickling across his skin and singeing the tips of his wild hair. His eyes widened in shock.

That was so fast…

The young Saiyan instinctively stiffened when the sharper warning tone hit him, but the burning excitement in his chest refused to fade. Instead, his tail puffed out behind him as he craned his neck, desperately trying to peek around the hybrid’s broad shoulder toward the battlefield.

“I know it’s dangerous!” Rutaba shot back, sounding almost offended. “That’s why it’s awesome!”

Despite the bold words, sweat still rolled down the side of his face from the crushing pressure that radiated through the area. Up close, the sheer gap in power between himself and these two monsters felt suffocating. His instincts screamed that either of them could erase him without even trying.

And somehow, that only made his heart pound harder with thrill.

Then the woman moved.

Rutaba’s eyes snapped downward as she suddenly appeared beneath them, having shrunk herself small enough to slip past the heat attack. By the time she returned to normal size nearby, the young Saiyan had already raised his guard on pure instinct, blue ki crackling and flaring nervously around his small frame. When she didn’t immediately attack, his posture eased just a fraction.

Still, his sharp black eyes never left her.

The moment her hand patted his head, Rutaba froze in complete confusion. Nobody had ever done something so casual in the middle of a fight like this. The oversized cloak suddenly draped over him swallowed his entire body, causing the child to stumble awkwardly in midair as he struggled to keep the heavy fabric from completely covering him.

“H-Hey—!”

For a brief second he looked more irritated about the cloak than intimidated by the powerful alien, yanking the red-and-black cloth off his face while hovering there wrapped in material several sizes too big.

Then he noticed the ship beginning to descend toward the planet below.

Rutaba’s attention snapped toward it, then back in the direction the woman had flown. His tail lashed wildly with renewed excitement as the realization hit him.

They were moving the fight somewhere else.

“Oh, COME ON!” he shouted, quickly grabbing the cloak tighter around his shoulders so it wouldn’t drift away into space. “You can’t start a fight like this and then leave me behind!”

Without another thought, blue ki streaked with fiery orange-red sparks exploded around him as he blasted forward after them both. The pressure in the atmosphere lightened the farther they descended toward Earth, letting him accelerate even faster.

Even while chasing them, a huge, unstoppable grin stretched across Rutaba’s face.

This was completely insane.

And he absolutely refused to miss even a second of it.

 

[Sparga]

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Using his own frame as a shield and a barricade to prevent any potential harm from coming toward the child, Sparga kept his back toward the woman and left himself vulnerable with only his reflexes to protect him should she try something malicious or nefarious. It wasn’t ideal or optimal, but he had to move quickly he told himself. The unknowns of what this woman wanted or what her plans were meant that until this child was safe, he couldn’t take any risks in keeping him safe. He watched the boy’s tail puff out and flicker while he craned his neck to try and peak around his broad shoulders to get a glimpse of what was behind him. And hearing him acknowledge the danger and reason that the peril was the attraction brought Sparga to inhale slowly to measure himself into a better flow of calm. Were they an older Saiyan, this sort of insistence on throwing themself into danger for the thrill would have been more irritating than endearing - But Sparga had spent some time reflecting on his own Saiyan heritage and was trying to be more patient and understanding with a people who previously only frustrated him. And this was a child, after all. He couldn’t expect anything less from someone so young. But he could see that the boy was still scared, despite the brave front he was putting up. So the Superman softened his expression from one of stern and stoic focus to something more friendly - a kind and gentle smile that was staggering in how deeply it contrasted against the behemoth of power he radiated.

​

Sparga: “I get it, you wanna see a good fight. You’re a Saiyan, right? I am too, see?”

His tail lifted and moved toward the boy, curling up and around his own waist to flick the tip of the furred limb in greeting, demonstrating their shared heritage as amiably as he could before he continued speaking.

Sparga: “But I’ll feel a lot better about going all out if I know you’re safe, okay? So please. Don’t get - “

Before he could continue, the woman slithered between them and expanded her form to return to normal size, and addressed the child before turning back to him. She seemed to not react with hostility toward the boy, at least, dulling his aggression at the display. He was thankful that she wasn’t going to attack the boy, and even seemed to care about his wellbeing - but he knew that this could also very well be a ruse meant to drop his guard. He had tried being friendly with her from the beginning, and before he could even speak, she had attacked him. He couldn’t underestimate her or drop his guard again. His gaze narrowed at her with a sharp contrast to the kindness he showed the boy, fist clenching at his side in case it needed to jolt out to the side if she tried anything. He almost threw that clenched fist out when she extended her arm out to the boy, but her slow and deliberate movement to pat his head, which was in kind swatted away by the young Saiyan, gave Sparga pause. The kid also didn’t seem too pleased with the idea of being swaddled in her cloak. Something told him Romaine would like this kid… Maybe he’d have to arrange a meeting between the two.

And then she moved, gliding down toward to breach the Earth’s atmosphere to bring her to what he can only assume might be a touch down. He wasn’t going to just let her go now, but she was at least being less hostile outright. So he’d be civil about this now - like he had originally planned. He didn’t move just yet, lingering behind just a moment to make sure the boy was okay.

Tilting his gaze back toward the kid, he gave his head a sideways nod to gesture for him to follow before Sparga began to fly back down toward the Earth’s surface. He kept a slow pace at the start, giving the young Saiyan an opportunity to follow suit while calling out to him.

Sparga: “Keep your head down, don’t get too close, and you can watch okay? When it’s all over, we can get you something to eat, alright?”

Before he could respond, Sparga’s speed surged into a sharp increase so that he might accelerate into heightened momentum, suddenly covering ground at an alarming rate to not just creep up onto the woman who had left without them but then take the lead so he could guide her to somewhere remote and away from large and densely populated areas. There was a large and empty expanse of arid badlands that Sparga knew were named the Gizard Wastelands, which was far enough away from Parsely City to avoid whatever potential hazards that might stem from how explosive this clash was that was about to unfold. Isolated, rocky terrain and towering sandblasted peaks that extended into tall craggy mountain plateaus composed the environment that Sparga was leading them into. It was familiar territory for him, familiar territory for past battles. If she followed suit, then he’d give her the fight she wanted - and the show the juvenile Saiyan requested.

With controlled speed that ripped through the horizon at staggering velocity, he skidded his momentum to an abrupt halt and hovered in the air to wait for them to catch up and find their preferred placements. His senses sharpened as the crisp, hot air of the valley filled his lungs with an inhalation that brought his lungs to expand and contract when he released the gasp. It was… nice being back here again after all this time. Something nostalgic about these old battlegrounds that couldn’t help but stir from its slumber the sleeping instincts that hungered for a worthy challenge. But he’d worry about that gnawing itch to scratch later, duty took priority right now. Senses sharpened back into hyper awareness and keen vigilance so that his perception might be mindful of any and all details that might be relevant for thousands of miles within his radius, he lowered his altitude to let the soles of his boots plant into the tough stone hillside with a clap when he landed so that he might patiently wait for the two of them to find somewhere comfortable and once they might do so, he would turn to the woman and wait for her next move.

​

 

[Prince Mokaryū]

Looking back and seeing Sparga and Rutaba fly towards the Gizard Wastelands, wasting no time to park her ship over the sea, then tap on its surface that seemed to light up under her touch, which made the entire structure groan before plunging itself deep into the ocean, which caused a large splash that created a wave that crashed into the city but little to no damage was created other than wetting the people, before flying towards her opponent but shrinks herself again. Upon arriving at the designated place to fight, Mokaryū drops countless tiny rods into the earth around Sparga, but avoids the child before returning to her in front of the opponent. "Before we begin, allow me to introduce myself," she gives a courteous bow "I am Mokaryū, warrior of the Caffaian people," she says before giving him a cute wink before relaxing into her casual stance. "Tell me, what is your names gentlemen?" her eyes flicking from Sparga to Rutaba then back to the older male.

 

[Rutaba]

Rutaba nearly lost control trying to keep up.

The instant the older Saiyan accelerated, the world exploded into streaks of color and motion around him. Shockwaves ripped across the atmosphere while the clouds split apart violently from their sheer speed, forcing the young Saiyan to throw both arms forward and pour more power into his flight just to avoid being left in the dust. Blue ki roared around his small body in wild, unstable bursts streaked with fiery orange-red sparks. The aura whipped his hair and clothes behind him like a storm as he chased desperately after the two monsters tearing across the sky.

“THAT’S SO FAST—!”

His shout vanished instantly into the roaring wind.

Even with everything he had, the gap between him and the hybrid was painfully obvious. Sparga didn’t just fly — he moved like a living natural disaster tearing across the planet. Rutaba grit his teeth and pushed harder anyway, refusing to fall too far behind while excitement hammered through his chest.

The moment they reached the Gizard Wastelands, Rutaba’s eyes widened with awe.

Towering stone plateaus stretched endlessly below, carved into jagged shapes by ancient winds and battles. Massive cliffs and deep valleys painted the barren land in burning oranges and browns, heat shimmering off the rocks. It looked like the perfect battlefield for monsters.

Perfect.

He descended at reckless speed and skidded hard across the side of a rocky plateau. His boots carved deep grooves into the stone as he landed with a heavy crack, sending pebbles and dust cascading down the mountainside. His blue aura flickered violently before settling into snapping, crackling embers around him.

His heart pounded so hard it almost hurt.

The pressure rolling off the two warriors felt even heavier now that they had stopped. Every instinct told him he was standing between two beings on a completely different level.

And he loved every single second of it.

His tail whipped excitedly behind him as his dark eyes darted between the towering Saiyan hybrid and the pink-skinned warrior. The blood still staining the older Saiyan’s uniform made Mokaryū feel genuinely terrifying in a way he had never experienced before.

Then the rods fell.

Rutaba’s eyes snapped toward the tiny objects embedding themselves across the wasteland around Sparga. His body tensed on pure instinct, blue ki flaring brighter as he dropped into a guarded crouch atop the plateau.

“What are those…?”

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the scattered rods. They didn’t feel normal. His instincts prickled with unease as he watched Mokaryū bow politely and introduce herself.

The sudden shift from crushing tension to casual introductions almost gave him whiplash.

For a second he just blinked.

Then she asked for their names.

Rutaba straightened up instantly.

A huge, cocky grin spread across his face as he planted both fists on his hips and puffed his chest out, trying his best to look impressive in front of warriors far stronger than him.

“I’m Rutaba!”

The second he shouted his name, his aura exploded outward with a loud crackling BOOM, sending loose rocks and dust flying across the plateau. Blue ki surged around his small frame while bright orange-red sparks snapped violently like wildfire.

“I’m gonna be the strongest Saiyan on Earth someday!”

His grin turned reckless.

“And I’m not scared of either of you!”

The moment the words left his mouth, another heavy wave of pressure rolled over the wasteland from the two much stronger fighters.

Rutaba immediately regretted saying it.

Sweat rolled down the side of his face almost instantly.

Still, he stubbornly kept his chin high and arms crossed, refusing to back down even as his tail puffed up slightly from nerves.

His attention drifted back to the strange rods.

The longer he stared, the more uneasy he felt.

Slowly, Rutaba crouched near the edge of the plateau and picked up a fist-sized stone. He weighed it once, narrowed his eyes, and hurled it as hard as he could at the nearest rod.

The rock screamed forward with a sharp crack, spinning violently through the air.

Rutaba leaned forward eagerly, eyes wide with curiosity and excitement as his tail lashed rapidly behind him.

“What do those things even DO?!”

 

[Sparga]

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The windswept plateaus of the Gizard Wastes were as arid and hot as he remembered, the nostalgia filling his senses and invading his stoicism to bring him to a more natural and eased calm. But he didn’t allow his guard to falter in the face of the challenge about to unfold around him. From where he stood, he could see the ship descend into the waters nearby even despite the distance of several dozen miles - his super vision bridging the gap between his post and where the woman hid her ship. He knew that wasn’t a good idea, and he’d have to deal with the consequences of a foreign vessel invading Atlantean territory once this was over - that tenuous peace he had worked to achieve with the lords of the seas likely at risk of collapse now. But he doubted this woman would care about this planet’s problems between borders. He’d just have to drag the vessel out himself rather than waste time explaining to her. His patience was already thin enough with being attacked before he could actually speak civilly, and now she wanted to feign kindness because a child was present? He didn’t know what her game was, but she wasn’t going to get off easy. The kid being here didn’t simplify matters for the Saiyan of Steel, however; rather, it just complicated things further. If this clash proved to be too cataclysmic, his priority would have to shift to protecting the boy. He knew he could win this fight. He always won. But he’d have to adjust his fighting style and his output if civilians were within range.

The stoicism in his posture maintained itself with an almost absolute and unwavering confidence, the strength in his stance and stature as sure as the skies overhead were clear. Even without actually releasing his own energy and aura into ignition, it was almost as if the hybrid radiated a power deeper than the stars were vast. Without so much as a drop of Ki sparking from him, it was easy to see why he had earned the reputation to his name that the woman commented on having some passing knowledge of earlier.

When the rods fell into the earth around him, he didn’t flinch, nor twitch even the slightest muscle. Slowly and with measured acknowledgement that was gained by his super senses and heightened perception, he lifted a lone brow over the other to give a quizitive scan of the materials, letting his X-Ray and Super Vision study the objects to discern their qualities at accelerated speeds thanks to how swift his perception could occur. As long as they weren’t composed of lead, then Sparga would be able to gain at least a crude and rudimentary understanding of whatever these rods might be in less than a nanosecond’s glance.

When the woman finally took a graceful bow and gave her name, he bit down on the urge to scoff. Now she wanted to introduce herself? Instead, he gave a confident lopsided grin and maintained his heightened focus on keeping his senses sharp on everything within his perception for hundreds of miles around, which included the two of them. Mokaryū, huh? The Caffian people weren’t a race he was familiar with, but the universe was a big place and it had only gotten bigger with its reforging and recreation when the multiverse was repaired into a lone reality. Universe 7 had become a veritable land of unknowns now, and it was by sheer miracle that the Gods responsible for the maintaining of those separate realities didn’t all come for his head. Probably because they understood he had good reason to do so, and it’s not like he was the one who made the wish on the Super Dragon Balls, after all. The reality is that necessity demanded it on the occasion. It was either that, or let half a dozen realities erode into nothingness. Either way, the term Caffian was a new one for the Saiyan-Kryptonian hybrid.

When Rutaba called out his name with all the fervor and pride he expected of a young Saiyan child, Sparga wasn’t surprised in the slightest. As much as he didn’t always get along with them, he knew Saiyans. He’d smile at the kid if he weren’t so focused right now. He hoped he didn’t actually frighten the young Saiyan. The last thing he wanted was for any child to be afraid of him - or the symbol on his chest. He had spent the last several years trying to undo the damages his predecessor did to their family legacy. And while he had made a lot of headway in that task, he still had a long way to go.

But as for answering the woman’s inquiry…

Sparga: “Funny, you said you knew about me and how I protect this planet. If that were true, then you’d know that I’m called Superman.”

Rumors across the galaxy had long spread about the Saiyan-Kryptonian hybrid who had dethroned the cruel and tyrannical predecessor to that name, and it was common knowledge across every galaxy that opinions were split down the middle on whether or not he was to be believed that he was going to be the boyscout the old one used to be or if those words were just lies he told to get everyone to let their guard down before he revealed his true intentions and turned out to be another bloodthirsty psycho. Sparga knew that that’s what people said about him, but he didn’t care. The symbol on his chest stood for hope - For justice and a better tomorrow. And it’s what he’d die fighting for.

But the scars that the last Superman left behind ran deep, and Sparga had one hell of an uphill battle if he wanted that name to be one that inspired hope again. Somehow, he had managed to start convincing some decent percentages of Earth’s population that he meant what he said, but if he hadn’t even convinced all of Earth, then he couldn’t exactly call himself surprised at the notion that the rest of the universe was still on the fence about him. It was a miracle he managed to convince the Guardians to give him a shot.

But that was a concern for later. Right now, his focus was on Mokaryū and discerning whatever intentions she had with the planet. His senses still honed razor-sharp and into a preternatural awareness that heightened his fast-twitch muscles and reflexes to react to a hair-trigger’s provocation, the Superman stood patiently and with all the stalwart resilience of a bulwark while the wind brushed through his thick and feral lion’s mane of proud hair. His eyes were cast onto Mokaryū, but his perception was on everything around her. Mind and Body as One, he readied himself for combat to unfold. Even as he spoke outloud, his guard was sharp in a formless fighting stance: Even with his hands hanging loosely at his sides and his feet shoulder width apart, there was no opening in his stance that could easily be attacked without risking punishment. He was ready for as close to anything as he could imagine.

Sparga: “I don’t suppose you’ll tell me why you’ve come to Earth, will you? I doubt seriously that you’re here for the buffet.”

His tone was joking and carefree, reinforcing that confidence that this wasn’t a real concern for him - something mundane and normal enough to be trivial. He didn’t see her as a threat, just as part of his daily responsibilities. The way his shoulders were set, the strength carried in his every muscle and in the aura still sleeping inside him and waiting to express itself were evident and obvious. He kept his guard sharp and his senses alert while he waited for an answer - if she cared to give him one.

 

[Prince Mokaryū]

Mokaryū giggles at Rutaba's response, such a fiery and brave boy for his age "Rutaba, your brave and adorable at how tough your presenting yourself but it is a pleasure to meet you" then looks at Sparga, adding another giggle to his response using her own words against her which she decided to take a few steps forward but stops, her long tail swishing side to side like a cat getting ready to pounce "Its true what i said but I never know you as Superman, you were called the Saiyan of Prophecy on my planet, your tales, suffering, struggles and victories were passed on by my people like it was a legend but i refuse to call you that" waving her hand with a annoyed look at that title "I rather know your true name, don't you agree?" she says but flicks to where she left her ship "And don't worry about that, my species and technology relies on water and intense pressure" she says with throwing that same smile back on her face. Scanning how his body stance looked, his muscles tense, and he was on guard, she gets into her own fighting stance, which looked more elegant than aggressive. "And since you asked, I will ablige," giving him a wink again. "I came all the way from the south galaxy to test you, to see if the stories of your might were true."

Mokaryū ki flares up again, but more intense as her power level began climbing, releasing more of her power but not all of it "Rutaba, i recommend getting in the air and keep your distance" she warns before she gestures Sparga to bring it, clearly ready to test his martial arts but remembering the rods she placed, decided to dissipate them all to save her magic reserves.

 

[Rutaba]

Rutaba’s grin stretched even wider the moment Mokaryū called him adorable, but the reaction she received was pure offense instead of embarrassment.

“Hey! I’m not adorable!” he barked back, pointing an accusing finger straight at her from atop the rocky plateau. “I’m dangerous!”

The declaration came with an explosive flare of blue ki that erupted around his small body, blasting dust and loose stones away in every direction. Bright orange-red sparks snapped violently through the aura while the cliff beneath his shoes cracked deeper under the pressure of his energy. Despite all the loud bravado, his wide eyes still flicked nervously between the two towering warriors as their power continued to build around him like gathering storms.

When Mokaryū’s energy climbed higher, the pressure slammed into him hard enough to nearly steal the breath from his lungs. Invisible force rolled across the wasteland in heavy waves, kicking up spiraling clouds of dust and making the canyon floor tremble. Rutaba instinctively slid one foot back to brace himself, his tail lashing restlessly behind him. Every instinct screamed that these two existed on a completely different level.

And somehow, that only made the fire burning in his chest burn hotter.

The moment Mokaryū warned him to get into the air and keep his distance, Rutaba puffed his cheeks out in clear irritation before blue ki suddenly exploded around him again.

“You really gotta stop talking to me like I’m gonna break!” he snapped.

The plateau beneath him detonated apart as the young Saiyan launched skyward in a violent burst of power. Car-sized rocks ripped free from the cliffside while Rutaba streaked upward like a comet wrapped in crackling blue fire. Mid-flight, he twisted sharply and thrust both arms forward, unleashing a rapid barrage of ki blasts toward a distant mesa.

The canyon thundered with explosions.

Fire and debris swallowed the massive rock formation as the barrage tore it apart piece by piece. Rutaba skidded sideways through the air before stabbing a thumb proudly against his chest.

“I know I’m a kid,” he shouted across the wasteland, “but you REALLY shouldn’t underestimate me because of that!”

Blue energy flared even brighter around him the instant the words left his mouth. Then he vanished forward.

The air detonated behind him from the sheer acceleration as Rutaba blitzed toward another towering stone pillar jutting from the canyon floor. He planted one foot against its side for the briefest moment before driving a savage punch directly into the center of the formation.

The entire pillar erupted apart in a deafening explosion.

A powerful shockwave blasted across the wasteland while gigantic slabs of stone launched skyward around him. Rutaba burst out through the cloud of debris, spinning wildly before catching himself midair. He laughed breathlessly as rubble rained down around his smaller frame.

“I’m still getting stronger too!” he yelled excitedly while hovering above the destruction. “Someday I’m gonna fight people THIS strong for real!”

Even while shouting so confidently, his sharp black eyes kept darting back toward Sparga and Mokaryū with obvious awe burning behind the excitement. Deep down he knew neither of them had even started trying yet.

And somehow, that just made him even more eager to see what would happen next.

 

[Sparga]

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Off in the distance, Sparga could see in his peripheral vision as well as hear and feel the outrage of Rutaba’s eruption. Were he not so focused, he’d have considered this a stark reminder of why he had so much difficulty getting along with other Saiyans. That tantrum wasn’t going to help anything right now, and the child’s pride being offended wasn’t anywhere near the top of his priority list in the face of wanting to keep him safe. Rutaba could be angry and topple as many mountainsides as he liked, burning excess energy to demonstrate his strength. What Sparga needed to focus on was keeping the boy safe. The aggressive barrage of raining bolts of energy that charred the rocky hillside caused a series of explosive detonations that flickered like flashing lights that illuminated against his flank and rear, but Sparga remained undaunted and resilient in the face of such violent forces blasting around him. He had to admit, the little guy had gusto - potential of that caliber was something he didn’t exactly see every day anymore. But he’d need to get his emotions in check first if he wanted to master his power fully. It was a sight to see, for sure, a young Saiyan child who had potential that might actually prove to be as legendary as he hoped it could become. And when the boy’s fist planted into the mesa to shatter it, Sparga’s expression nearly twitched in the faintest break of his poker face to express intrigue and approval. But it didn’t.

Maintaining the calm over his own demeanor while he listened to Mokaryu, the Saiyan of Steel didn’t even give so much as an inch of movement when she retracted those pillars. She was quick to do so, not even giving him the chance to learn what they were and what they were made of - almost like she decided against using them for reasons he couldn’t hazard a guess at. As she spoke, he listened and kept his guard raised quietly with his tail lazily flickering behind him. The Saiyan of prophecy was a new moniker given to him, one he wasn’t particularly fond of if he was being honest - but he didn’t voice that feeling out loud, preferring to keep his cards close to his chest. When he finally responded, Sparga kept his reflexes honed and his guard poised so that any sudden activity that might cut him off would be something he might be prepared for.

Sparga: “Sorry, but my real name is something I only let my friends call me. Superman will do just fine for you.”

Sparga wasn’t keeping his identity a secret - in fact, it was actually kind of confusing for him that some of his old comrades from before he departed the Time Patrol had yet to put two and two together that Sparga and Superman were one and the same - especially since he had not gone to any lengths to conceal that fact. But for anyone else, they didn’t need to know the details of his personal life. Especially when they attacked him without warning the moment he laid eyes on them.

And when she elaborated, opting to actually answer his query, Sparga’s gaze sharpened. That’s what it always was, wasn’t it? A fight. A chance for some foreign invader from across the stars to test their mettle. His demeanor maintained itself, that same self-confidence that didn’t yet acknowledge her or the power she radiated as a genuine worry. But if a chance to test her own capabilities and measure his strength was what she wanted, she had already pressed the right buttons to provoke the necessary response that she desired.

There was a faint flex of leg and calf muscle when his right foot put pressure into the ground. A gentle step that exerted such monumentous force that the stone pillar beneath him shattered and fragmented into such fine debris that the pulverized stone ground into sand so fine that sifting it out of the smoke and dust kicked up would prove difficult. This single, half-hearted step exerted so much strength and force that not only did it cause the ground to tremble with a harsh tremor that rivaled heavy seismic quakes, but it also catapulted him forward so fast that the light around them, which reflected and refracted color to give visibility under the color spectrum could track. In a single nanosecond, several explosive and powerful sequences occurred. The first being the pulverization of the ground beneath Sparga into such fine powder that he the sand billowed out into pluming clouds beneath him. In that same instant moment, his body moved so swiftly that the afterimage left behind in his wake stood still while an eruption of stale air exploded into a cone behind him. The shockwave of force that rippled echoed into a burst of concussive kinetic momentum that scattered into aggressive might that caused several nearby peaks to shatter into fragmented debris of varying sizes, as if punched by the fist of some colossal titan unleashing havoc across the landscape. All the while, the afterimage left behind stood still and unmoving. As this occurred, Sparga’s acceleration propelled him toward Mokaryu under the cover of his own kinetic release of power. Before the light could catch up to his harsh velocity, he’d streak forward to invade the pink-skinned woman’s personal space with his fist cocked back and shoulders tensed in preparation. His right arm was chambered in an easily read and telegraphed wind-up while his left arm was extended to act as both shield and reactive measures in case she demonstrated reaction times necessary to respond before his fist might fly.

Before the shockwave kicked up from his forward charge might even finish spreading out, Sparga would have throttled within striking range of the Caffian so rapidly that he’d be poised to strike before sensory perception could register his proximity (unless she too were possessed of preternatural awareness and perception and could track such intense speeds.) And then his fist swung in a wide arcing uppercut to drive sharpened knuckles under her chest and ribcage. Should impact find purchase, another concussive discharge of raw kinetic force and momentum would erupt in aggressive and volatile cataclysmic might. Another shockwave would thunder out with furious bellows like a drumbeat that cracked the sky open before she might find herself hit with a force like a nuclear bomb to punch her skyward and back out of the planet’s atmosphere at breakneck exit speeds. All within a single nanosecond’s time frame (One billionth of a single second), Sparga rushed in to unleash a single strike that carried more force than any manmade weapon could produce. If his fist met its mark as desired, the Caffian warrior would find herself skyrocketing past the planet’s clouds and back into space with frightening speeds.

All the while, from start to finish, he kept his focus sharp and his guard reactive and engaged in case she proved herself to be full of surprises. He was fast, and he still had his left arm braced to move in case he’d need to adjust on the fly should she move to counter at any point throughout the duration of his action or desire to attack. Mind and Body as One, he moved to strike so fast that to an outside observer, it might not even look like he moved until after his fist completed traversing across its intended path - Just a world exploding around him as if giving out underneath the pressure of his existence before reality might catch up to the Saiyan of Steel and reveal his movements.

 

[Prince Mokaryū]

When Mokaryu saw how this Saiyan was propelling himself so fast that she was lucky enough to see the danger coming in hot and in full force, she narrowed her eyes. Quite literally, the speed he was using left an afterimage of himself standing there, which brought a shiver of excitement down the young woman's spine. The way he had once stood before he moved made her feel an electric shock, bringing a wide smile to her face when Sparga came in, right arm cocked back, and she was happy to welcome that gleeful smile with such joy. Her body tensing up with muscles now visible as she let the fist come at her, she shifted her body weight, doing a backflip when he swung for an uppercut that barely missed her chin, and she realized that she had to react right away. After placing both hands on the ground, she used the momentum to shoot her left leg up to hit his stomach, then her right leg to hit his chin. Although if he manages to block her attack, she would use her tail to swing in an arch to connect with his side to hopefully knock him away and chase him down as soon as possible.

 

[Rutaba]

Far below the clash between Sparga and Mokaryu, the canyon walls suddenly exploded outward.

“RRRRAAAAHHHH!!”

Rutaba burst from the collapsing mountainside in a violent eruption of blue ki and shattered stone. Chunks of rock spiraled around him as he rocketed skyward, orange-red sparks snapping wildly through his aura.

His breathing was rough.

His fists were clenched tight.

But the second he looked up and actually saw the fight happening above him—

His eyes lit up with pure excitement.

“…WHOOOOAAA—!!”

The air detonated again as Sparga and Mokaryu collided at blinding speeds. Mountains burst apart in the distance from the shockwaves alone.

Rutaba’s tail lashed wildly.

“They’re SO FAST—!”

BOOOOM!!

Without hesitation, he blasted forward straight into the battlefield, completely ignoring the absurd difference in power. He zigzagged wildly beneath the two older fighters while shockwaves ripped the sky apart overhead.

One massive boulder came hurtling toward him from the fallout.

Rutaba grinned.

“Hah!”

BAAAAM!!

He smashed straight through it with a ki-enhanced punch, exploding the boulder into burning fragments as he kept charging upward.

“C’mon… c’mon… lemme hit somebody too!”

Another violent ripple of force slammed into him from above. Rutaba crossed his arms just in time as the pressure wave blasted him backward.

“GAAAAH—!”

He spun through the air before catching himself with a burst of blue ki, stabilizing mid-flight.

For a second he just hovered there, breathing hard.

Then he started laughing.

“HAHAHAHA!! THIS IS AWESOME!!”

Blue ki surged around him as his battle spirit burned even hotter. His Saiyan blood was fully awake now.

Suddenly, Rutaba thrust both hands out, rapidly gathering energy as blue ki swirled between his palms.

“ENERGY…!”

Dozens of small blue spheres formed around him in clusters, crackling with orange-red sparks.

“BLAST…!”

“BARRAAAAGE!!!”

FWOOOSH!!

He unleashed the entire volley upward in a chaotic storm of glowing blue blasts. The barrage spiraled unpredictably toward Sparga and Mokaryu, exploding violently across the battlefield.

Not enough to truly hurt them—

But loud, wild, and relentless.

Right behind the wave of blasts, Rutaba charged upward with a feral grin, fists clenched and ready.

“I WANNA FIGHT TOO!!”