Ch. 1 - The Dutiful Patroller
The skies over Conton City stretched endlessly, painted in a vibrant tapestry of blue and gold. Lyra stood atop a floating platform, her petite, lean frame silhouetted against the ethereal horizon. At first glance, she seemed unassuming—short and wiry, hardly the imposing figure one might expect of a seasoned warrior. Yet her build betrayed a precision born of speed, every movement optimized for agility rather than brute strength.
Her sharp, dark eyes glimmered faintly as her gaze swept over the bustling city below. Black hair, cropped to shoulder-length and spiked in uneven layers, framed her face—a distinct contrast to the long locks favored by other Saiyans. Her tail, coiled snugly beneath her clothes, was rarely visible. She preferred to keep it out of harm's way; the lesson of how vulnerable it left her had been learned the hard way.
Once, Lyra had worn the red and white battle armor assigned to her as a Time Patroller, a symbol of duty to the Supreme Kai of Time. Its design mimicked the traditional Saiyan style, though she'd stripped it of its bulky shoulder pads almost immediately—mobility mattered more than appearances. But even that armor had been abandoned in favor of a more practical outfit: a red tank top and loose black pants that allowed her to dart across the battlefield unencumbered. It's not like a battle armor of that level could block serious blows anyways. Black fingerless gloves and black boots with golden soles completed the ensemble.
Despite her cheerful attitude and diminutive stature, her presence carried an edge—a quiet intensity that warned others not to underestimate her. Lyra's pale blue aura, tinged faintly with purple, shimmered around her as she prepared for the day's assignment, its glow subdued but steady.
Lyra moved with purpose through the floating bridges and platforms, her boots clicking against the stone as she ran past rows of Time Patrollers preparing for missions.
Some sparred in designated areas, trading blows in quick bursts of ki-enhanced combat. Others were in their own personal spots, stretching while observing the spars. The rest wandered around, discussing previous missions or debating fighting poses.
'What a dedicated bunch! As expected of Time Patrollers!'
She brushed the thought—along with a fleeting worry about the sheer scale of her new responsibilities—aside as she crossed the threshold into the Time Nest's central chamber. The room was vast and circular, with numerous scrolls on shelves on the walls, each depicting scenes from across the timeline. In the center, bathed in the soft glow of the Time Nest's energy, stood Trunks, waiting patiently with a scroll of eternity. His posture was as straight as a sword, his expression serious, as always, reflecting the weight of the timelines he constantly monitored. But as his gaze landed on her, his features softened. He relaxed into a grin, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly.
"Hey, Lyra! Ready for your first big mission?" he asked, his voice carrying a hint of anticipation for the adventure ahead.
"Yup!" She replied energetically. Her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm, her fists clenched at her sides in a heroic pose. "I can't wait! I'll become the next Legendary Hero, just you watch! I'll be saving timelines left and right, and everyone will know my name! Oh, but don't worry," she added with a playful wink, "I'm sure I could still make some time to sign autographs for you even then. You'll be my number one fan, right?"
"Ha! Then I'll take your word for it!" Trunks replied good-naturedly, chuckling softly at her antics. He appreciated her spirit, her unwavering optimism, a stark contrast to the often grim realities of time patrolling.
After a couple of seconds, the weight of his responsibilities settled back upon him, and he was back to his serious self, his brow furrowing slightly. "We've got a rift in the timeline," he said, his voice now laced with concern. "It's in Age 761—Raditz's arrival on Earth. There's a strange energy surrounding him, and he's significantly stronger than he should be. It's unlike anything we've seen before."
"Strange energy?" Lyra asked, her brow furrowing in concentration. "What kind of strange energy?"
"We don't know yet, but it's affecting his power level. He somehow evaded Piccolo's Special Beam Cannon, and is now thrashing him and Goku. The Supreme Kai of Time is monitoring the situation closely, but the situation is escalating rapidly. Your job is to make sure Goku and Piccolo defeat him as they're supposed to. We need to ensure the timeline remains intact."
"Okay. Sounds easy enough. I mean, it's only Raditz, strange energy or not." She said with a shrug, her confidence unwavering. She made a move to grab the scroll, eager to begin her mission, but Trunks pulled it away, his expression turning stern. "Hey, what gives! You know I need that for my mission, right? I can't exactly fix the timeline without it!"
"Are you sure you're ready for this? I'll say this just in case, but you're not supposed to defeat him yourself, alright? Just provide an opportunity for Goku and Piccolo. Your role is to guide the timeline back on track, not to rewrite it. Remember your training."
Lyra pouted, her lips forming a slight frown, but acknowledged nonetheless. "I know, I know. You do realize that I graduated top of my year in the academy, right? I know the rules. I'm not just some rookie. Just give me the scroll already!" She reached out again and managed to grab it this time. She clenched it tightly, the ancient parchment feeling strangely alive in her grasp, and the magic of the Time Nest wrapped around her as Trunks stepped back.
As the scroll activated, Lyra was enveloped in a swirling void of light and shadow, the timeless space between dimensions, a place where the fabric of reality seemed to thin and bend. She felt herself pulled in every direction at once, yet remained perfectly still, suspended in the ethereal nothingness. The light pulsed around her, sometimes blindingly bright, other times fading into an inky blackness that seemed to swallow her whole. She floated weightlessly, her limbs drifting aimlessly, her senses dulled yet hyper-aware, a strange paradox of the void. Her thoughts, usually sharp if not always focused, now drifted like wisps of smoke, eventually coalescing on the mission ahead.
'Raditz, huh. One of the last Saiyans…' The thought struck a chord deep within her, triggering a cascade of fragmented scenes surrounding her in the void, like shattered pieces of a forgotten mirror. These weren't clear, linear visions, but rather flashes of images, sounds, and emotions, all jumbled together in a chaotic mess.
A city in ruins, a desolate landscape of crumbled buildings and twisted metal. Some houses still smoldering, sending plumes of dark smoke into the already murky sky. The air thick with the acrid smell of burning wood and something else, something metallic and sickeningly sweet. Corpses everywhere, some mangled beyond recognition, their limbs twisted at unnatural angles, their faces frozen in silent screams. Someone addressing her with a light tone, a voice that was happy and strangely detached, as if all the death and destruction were just a background scenery, an everyday occurrence. Then she looked down at her hands, which were—
The scenes ended abruptly, as if a switch had been flipped, and she was ejected from the void with surprising force. Instead of landing gracefully in the battlefield, her body was thrown off balance, her limbs flailing wildly. She stumbled mid-air, her momentum carrying her forward, and hit the ground hard.
"Ouch," she whined, brushing dirt off her clothes. She scanned the area, ashamed of herself for losing focus on her first big mission.
Her surroundings came into view: a desolate wasteland with tufts of scorched grass and jagged cliffs. In the distance, Raditz's mocking laughter echoed as he pinned Goku to the ground with one boot.
Raditz's scouter beeped, detecting her arrival but only reading her suppressed power level. He turned toward her, a sneer twisting his lips, his eyes narrowed with disdain. "No matter how much trash there is, it's still just trash! You're all pathetic!" He gestured dismissively, his voice dripping with arrogance. He clearly didn't see her as a threat, just another insignificant obstacle.
"What was that?" Lyra asked, tilting her head slightly, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. "Sorry, I didn't quite catch that over all that hair." She gestured vaguely towards his spiky, untamed mane, her tone light and teasing, a stark contrast to his aggressive posture. She knew she was pushing his buttons, but she couldn't resist the urge to rile him up a little.
"Trash," he repeated, his voice a low growl, his Saiyan tail flicking dismissively like an annoyed cat as he finally stepped off the prone form of Goku, who was still struggling to regain his breath. "Stay out of my way, little girl, if you value your life." He puffed out his chest while flaring his dark aura, trying to intimidate her with his bulk and power, completely oblivious to the fact that she wasn't impressed in the slightest.
"Noted," Lyra replied cheerfully, her voice still light and airy, nodding her head for effect, as if she were agreeing to a casual request. She even added a little flourish to her nod just to further irritate him. She knew that her nonchalant attitude was probably infuriating him even more than any direct insult could.
"Hey… you there," Goku rasped, his eyes barely open as he looked towards Lyra. "We could… use the help. This guy… he's strong." He coughed, trying to sit up, but his body was clearly screaming in protest. He knew he couldn't take Raditz on his own, and he was desperate for any assistance he could get.
The Supreme Kai of Time's voice echoed in Lyra's earpiece. "Stay sharp, Lyra. This is a crucial moment. Goku and Piccolo need to work together to defeat Raditz. Make sure they have the time and space to set up their combined attack. Don't engage him more than absolutely necessary."
"Okay!" Lyra replied, getting in her battle stance. Her aura flared to life, illuminating the battlefield.
Raditz growled and lunged at her, his speed enhanced by the strange, flickering aura surrounding him. Lyra sidestepped his attack with ease, her movements fluid and calculated.
"You're fast," Raditz observed, his smirk returning. "But speed alone won't save you."
He swung again, this time feinting left before aiming a powerful kick at her midsection. Lyra blocked it with her forearm, wincing at the impact but barely budging from her spot.
"Your power level… it's higher than these Earthlings," Raditz mused, his scouter clicking as it struggled to get a proper reading. "Still, it's nothing compared to mine!"
"Sure thing, big boy," Lyra replied playfully. She raised one hand and fired a rapid volley of ki blasts, each one aimed precisely at Raditz's midsection. The explosions forced him back, creating enough space for her to analyze his movements.
Raditz snarled, pushing through the barrage as smoke and debris surrounded him. His aura flared, dark and unstable, as he closed the distance with raw speed.
Lyra kept her distance, floating just out of reach as she fired a flurry of ki blasts to keep him at bay. She didn't press too hard—if she overpowered him too early, the timeline might veer off course. Instead, she focused on precision, forcing him to play defensively while gauging his enhanced power.
Raditz lunged again, closing the gap with surprising speed. His fists came down in a flurry of strikes, but Lyra twisted and flipped, deflecting his blows with calculated movements. When she saw an opening, she unleashed a charged energy blast at point-blank range, sending him flying into a nearby boulder.
"Come on, I thought you were strong," Lyra taunted, a smirk playing on her lips as she watched Raditz struggle to his feet. Her voice dripped with playful mockery, the kind that was designed to sting just a little. "Did your strength go to your hair instead? All that ridiculous spiky stuff must be weighing you down, making you slow." She gestured with a dismissive wave towards his gravity-defying black locks, a clear indication that she wasn't taking him seriously.
"You're good," Raditz admitted, his voice a low growl as he wiped a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. The pain was a dull throb, but the humiliation was a sharp, burning fire. He could feel his anger rising. "But you're holding back. Why? I can feel it, that subtle restraint in your movements, the way you're not committing to your attacks. Stop looking down on me and face me like a true Saiyan!"
The comment hit a nerve. Lyra's eyes narrowed as her ki flared for a brief moment. Raw energy swirled around her in an erratic pattern, overloading Raditz's scouter in the process, as the fragmented scenes of the ruined city returned in full force.
Her hands, slick with blood. The crimson liquid, still warm, coating her palms and fingers. Countless corpses at her feet, a macabre mosaic of broken bodies and shattered armor. Her scouter blinking rapidly, its tiny screen displaying the plummeting power levels of the remaining natives. Saiyan warriors, their faces streaked with grime and sweat, standing victorious amidst the inferno, their eyes fixed on her with a mixture of awe and respect. The pride, the exhilaration—she could feel it, sharp and visceral.
"Piccolo!" Goku shouted, his voice strained but determined, snapping her from the depths of her thoughts. He was slowly, painstakingly getting to his feet, his body battered and bruised from the Saiyan's relentless assault. He winced with each movement, but his eyes held a spark of unwavering resolve. "You ready?" he asked, his voice a little hoarse, but still carrying that familiar, optimistic tone.
"Almost," Piccolo growled, his voice a low rumble that vibrated with contained power. His remaining hand was held out in front of him, glowing with an intense, swirling energy as he meticulously charged the Special Beam Cannon. "Just buy me a little more time!"
Lyra watched the exchange out of the corner of her eye. She adjusted her stance, her muscles coiled like springs, her aura flaring again as she kept her focus on Raditz. The playful, almost childlike cheeriness that had been present just moments before was completely gone now.
"Anytime now, guys." Lyra muttered under her breath.
Raditz lunged again, his attacks wild and relentless. Lyra backflipped gracefully out of range, firing quick bursts of ki to keep him at bay. Each blast, though not enough to seriously harm him, forced him to adjust his footing, disrupting his momentum and buying precious time for the others to prepare. He was undeniably stronger than the original timeline had dictated, his power level significantly higher, but she still outclassed him. Holding him back wasn't the challenge—holding herself back was.
"Stay still, damnit! Weekend!" Raditz roared in frustration, firing two pink energy blasts directly at her. Lyra calmly moved both hands to her left side, the right hand cupped over the left, charging her own attack.
Her energy swirled, condensing into a wide, purple beam that roared to life as she pushed it forward with a shout.
The beam collided with Raditz's attack, before purple overwhelmed pink and inexorably moved forwards. The resulting explosion shook the ground and sent shockwaves rippling outward.
Raditz staggered, his breath labored as he tried to recover. His stance faltered as he turned to face her. "You think you've won?!"
Before Lyra could respond, movement from behind Raditz caught his attention, but he was too late.
"Now, Piccolo!"
Goku had wrapped his arms around Raditz's torso, locking him in place with a full Nelson hold. Raditz struggled, his strength nearly overpowering Goku's, but the Earthling refused to let go.
"Damn it, Kakarot! Let me go!" Raditz shouted, thrashing violently.
Lyra took a step back, her eyes tracking the glow of energy building in Piccolo's hands. The Namekian's attack was ready.
"This is for my arm. Special Beam Cannon!" Piccolo yelled, his voice echoing across the battlefield as he unleashed the attack.
The spiraling beam of energy tore through the air, piercing both Goku and Raditz with precision. The impact sent a shockwave rippling through the ground, and when the dust settled, Raditz lay motionless, his armor cracked and his body smoking.
Lyra watched silently as the scene played out exactly as she had seen in the scroll. Goku's dying words to his brother set the stage for what was to come: the arrival of Vegeta and Nappa.
As the light faded from Raditz's eyes, Lyra took a step back, her energy dimming as she turned away from the fallen warriors. She moved quickly, keeping her ki suppressed as she retreated from the battlefield. Her part in the fight was done—any further interference could jeopardize the timeline.
As she floated just out of sight, she turned to glance back at the scene. Goku's body lay still, but the Dragon Balls would fix that soon enough. Piccolo stood over him, his expression unreadable as he considered the weight of what was coming.
Lyra's gaze shifted to Raditz. The fallen Saiyan's lifeless body felt heavier in her mind than it should have. Something about him—about his arrogance, his aggression—had stirred something within her.
Her hands trembled as she clenched them into fists. "What were those scenes?" she asked no one in particular.
Then, she was gone in a flash of white, on her way back to the Time Nest.
Note: Weekend is the name of Raditz's ultimate attack