Dr. Dieter transmitted the emergency signal, and the screen switched to the command center.
"What's happening, Dr. Dieter?" the command officer demanded.
"We have a situation with the music box." Dieter conveniently omitted any mention of the space-time energy, reporting only that someone had escaped from the artifact and needed to be recaptured immediately. He switched the feed to show the destroyed laboratory gate.
The sight was shocking. That reinforced steel barrier had been split by a devastating sword slash—the kind of power required to cleave through such material was terrifying. Guards lay scattered across the floor in various states of injury, and damaged equipment sparked and sputtered around the ruined chamber.
Frieza's Legion guards mobilized instantly. They armed themselves with full energy cannon arrays and the latest combat armor, activated omnidirectional scanning systems, and launched pursuit vessels.
Frieza's dominance over vast swaths of the Northern Galaxy wasn't solely due to his own power. His subordinates' efficiency and discipline formed the backbone of his empire. Their swift, coordinated response created a formidable fighting force.
However, while their tactical coordination was impressive, their individual strength remained inadequate. Most were common soldiers with combat powers barely reaching one or two thousand.
The red-haired warrior cut through their formations with his gleaming blade. Soldiers with power levels in the mere thousands were no match for him. Their defensive lines crumbled into chaos, and he exploited the confusion to commandeer a spacecraft and escape into the void.
The pursuit fleet chased him across multiple star systems, all the way to the Galactic Justice League's border.
"Attention all units! Destroy that ship! Do not let him cross into Alliance territory!"
"Attention all units! Destroy that ship! Do not let him cross into Alliance territory!"
"Attention all units! Destroy that ship! Do not let him cross into Alliance territory!"
The critical order echoed three times across every frequency. The commander's signal reached every ship in the fleet. They all understood—now was not the time for open conflict with the Galactic Justice League. The target had to be eliminated before crossing the border.
A rainbow barrage of energy beams converged on the fleeing ship, streaking through the darkness like a meteor storm.
No amount of evasive maneuvering could dodge such concentrated firepower. The spacecraft took a direct hit, and alarms screamed through the cockpit: "CRITICAL DAMAGE! POWER SYSTEMS FAILING! CRITICAL DAMAGE! POWER SYSTEMS FAILING!"
"Damn it!" The red-haired man slammed his fist against the console, his left hand still clutching his flute, his expression darkening.
The pursuers behind him attacked with savage determination, a meteor shower of energy blasts hammering his shields without mercy. They were committed to his destruction.
The relentless assault finally overwhelmed the vessel's defenses. It plummeted toward a nearby planet, atmospheric friction igniting it into a blazing fireball visible from space.
"That's within Galactic Justice League jurisdiction. Their satellites will detect it."
"Damn! Did he make it across the border?"
"At least we destroyed him. That crash will finish the job."
"Confirmed. Target is terminated."
Frieza's forces, having inadvertently released whatever had been sealed in the music box, dismissed the incident as trivial. What threat could one unknown warrior possibly pose? They regarded the red-haired man's appearance as nothing more than a minor inconvenience.
While Frieza's Legion developed its plans in secret, Earth enjoyed two months of peaceful tranquility.
Raditz played with Rukon in the yard, the two of them rolling and laughing across the grass until they were both covered in green stains. When he wasn't training, Raditz made Rukon's development his top priority, spending every available moment helping his son build emotional stability.
During these times, Broly would often stand at the edge of the yard watching silently, motionless as a statue.
Inside the house, trophies and medals decorated the shelves. A pure gold statue depicted Android 18 in a fighting stance, polished to a brilliant shine, with the inscription "World's Strongest Human" engraved on its base. She'd won it at the most recent World Martial Arts Tournament. Gohan hadn't participated that time, and both Mr. Satan and Videl had fallen to 18's superior technique. In the end, 18 had claimed both the prize money and trophy without giving anyone else a chance.
The first time Raditz saw the trophy, he'd asked, "Couldn't you have given Satan a break, 18?"
Her response had been immediate: "Aren't I human? Besides, you could enter next time."
Raditz had simply shaken his head and dropped the subject.
Poor Satan—he'd probably never win another championship again.
"BEEP-BEEP-BEEP!" As Raditz lifted Rukon for another toss, his badge issued an emergency alert, the sharp tone cutting through the afternoon air.
"Who is it?" Raditz set Rukon down gently and pressed the communication button.
"Lord Raditz, we've made a significant discovery that requires your immediate verification!" Jeice's voice crackled through, slightly hoarse with urgency—something that only happened when situations were serious.
"What did you find?"
"A person. His appearance and facial structure closely resemble a Supreme Kai, but he's severely injured and in critical condition."
"Is that so?" Raditz's brow furrowed. "Stand by. I'm coming immediately."
Someone who resembled a Supreme Kai? Perhaps a visitor from another universe? In his memory, most Supreme Kais shared similar hairstyles—except himself, of course. He rather liked keeping his own thick black hair long and wasn't about to adopt that distinctive mohawk cut.
If this was indeed a Supreme Kai from another universe, proper diplomatic protocol demanded attention. Better to confirm in person.
Raditz explained the situation to Rukon, then placed two fingers to his forehead and vanished.
In an instant, Raditz materialized on a remote planet within the Alliance's jurisdiction. Having only recently been incorporated into their territory, the world's infrastructure remained relatively underdeveloped—aging facilities housed in weathered buildings.
Jeice stood waiting with several soldiers, all standing at respectful attention upon Raditz's arrival.
"Report!"
"There, sir." Jeice gestured toward the temporary medical bay. "Our patrol found him falling from orbit like a massive fireball. He crashed hard enough that he nearly died on impact."
Raditz studied the red-haired man through the observation window, his eyes narrowing. Something about him triggered a faint recognition, but the memory remained frustratingly elusive. Then his gaze fell on the sword resting beside the medical bed, and understanding flashed through his mind.
The legendary hero who had sealed the phantom demon Hirudegarn within his own body!
"Do we know where he came from? Was there... a music box with him, perhaps?" Raditz asked.
"Unknown, sir. We found no music box at the crash site."
"That's strange..."
"Lord Raditz, do you know this individual?" Jeice asked carefully.
"Possibly." Raditz continued observing Tapion through the protective barrier, doubt gnawing at him. From what he knew, Tapion had sealed himself inside the music box. He shouldn't simply appear like this, and certainly not falling from the sky like a meteor.
"Contact me the moment he regains consciousness. I need to speak with him."
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