The rain fell harder now, washing the blood from the battlefield but doing nothing to cleanse the weight of what had just transpired. Sage remained on his knees among the rubble, his shoulders shaking with more than just the cold.
"I failed them all," he whispered, his voice barely audible above the drumming rain. "My people... Kakarot... everyone I was supposed to protect..."
Piccolo stood over him, cape billowing in the wind. The Namekian's usual stoic demeanor was cracked with confusion and growing concern. Too much had happened too quickly, and none of it made sense.
"Get up," Piccolo commanded, his voice sharp but not entirely without sympathy. "Crying in the mud won't change anything."
Sage's head lifted slightly, revealing eyes red with grief and rain.
"You don't understand... he was the only other one left. The only other Saiyan on this planet, and I..." His voice broke completely.
"Start talking," Piccolo crossed his arms, his tone brooking no argument. "What are Saiyans? Who is Frieza? And what does any of this have to do with that dead warrior calling Goku 'Kakarot'?"
For a long moment, Sage just stared at the ground. When he finally spoke, his voice was hollow, like someone recounting a nightmare they couldn't wake up from.
"Planet Vegeta was our home," he began, the stuttering returning as emotion overwhelmed him. "B-billions of Saiyans... men, women, children... an entire civilization..."
He slowly pushed himself to his feet, swaying slightly.
"Frieza was... is... the most powerful being in the universe. He rules through fear and destruction. And he feared us. Feared what we might become if we ever united against him."
Piccolo's eyes narrowed. "So he destroyed your planet."
"Not just destroyed," Sage's hands clenched into fists. "He made us destroy each other first. Turned us into his attack dogs. Made us conquer worlds for him. Then, when he was done with us..."
The young Saiyan's aura flickered briefly around him, responding to his emotional state.
"He gathered our entire race on Planet Vegeta under the pretense of a mission briefing. Then he... he..."
Sage's knees buckled, and he had to catch himself against a nearby boulder.
"He laughed while he did it. I can still hear it sometimes, in my nightmares."
"How do you know all this if everyone died?" Piccolo asked, his voice softer now but still probing.
"Because I was supposed to die too," Sage replied bitterly. "I was in the nursery district when the first wave of his forces attacked. My father... he was a low-class warrior, but he was smart. He'd been planning for something like this."
Sage stared at his hands, remembering.
"He had an escape pod hidden. Told me it was for 'emergencies.' When Frieza's forces started systematically destroying the districts before the main attack, my father... he put me in that pod and launched me into space."
"And you've been alone ever since."
"F-fifteen years," Sage nodded, the full weight of his isolation evident in those two words. "Fifteen years of running, hiding, training... waiting for the day they'd find me and finish what they started."
Piccolo processed this information, his tactical mind already working through the implications.
"So when you saw that armor..."
"I thought it was over," Sage completed. "I thought Frieza had finally tracked me down. I was so scared, so desperate... I attacked without thinking."
He looked at Goku's still form, and fresh tears mixed with the rain on his face.
"And now the only other member of my race on this planet is dead because of my cowardice."
"Actually," Piccolo said slowly, "about that..."
Sage looked up, confused by something in the Namekian's tone.
"Death isn't exactly permanent here on Earth."
"W-what?"
Piccolo felt oddly uncomfortable delivering what should have been good news.
"There are seven magical orbs called Dragon Balls. When gathered together, they can summon a dragon that grants wishes. Including," he paused meaningfully, "bringing people back from the dead."
Sage's eyes went wide with disbelief.
"That's... that's impossible..."
"A few hours ago, you would have said flying green men were impossible too," Piccolo pointed out dryly.
The young Saiyan stared at him, then at Goku, then back again. Something flickered in his eyes - something that hadn't been there since he'd landed on this battlefield.
"You mean... I can fix this? I can bring him back?"
"We can," Piccolo corrected. "Though it won't be easy. The Dragon Balls scatter across the planet after each use, and they take time to recharge."
For the first time since his arrival, Sage stood straight. The crushing weight of guilt was still there, but it was joined now by something else - purpose.
"Then that's what we'll do," he said, his voice growing stronger. "I'll help find these Dragon Balls. I'll help bring Kakarot back. It's... it's the least I can do."
"His name is Goku," Piccolo corrected gently.
"Goku," Sage repeated, as if testing the name. "That's what he chose to be called here?"
"That's who he became. He's nothing like that warrior described - Goku is kind, pure-hearted. He protects this planet and everyone on it."
Sage absorbed this information, and somehow it made his guilt even sharper.
"Then I helped kill a hero because I was too afraid to see past my own trauma."
Before Piccolo could respond, they both heard the sound of approaching engines. A small aircraft was descending through the rain, its design clearly more advanced than anything Earth's military possessed.
"Looks like the cavalry's arriving," Piccolo muttered.
The craft landed with a soft thud, and several figures emerged. A short, bald man in orange martial arts clothing. A blue-haired woman in a yellow outfit. An elderly man with sunglasses and a beard, wearing a Hawaiian shirt despite the weather.
"Piccolo!" the bald man called out as he ran toward them. "We felt those power levels from miles away! What happened here?"
His eyes found Goku's body, and he stopped dead in his tracks.
"Goku... no..."
"Krillin," Piccolo acknowledged grimly.
The blue-haired woman - Bulma, Sage realized from their conversation - was already pulling out some kind of scanning device, but her eyes kept darting between the destruction and the stranger.
"These energy readings are off the charts! Piccolo, what happened? And who is that?"
She pointed directly at Sage, who instinctively took a step backward. After fifteen years of hiding, being the center of attention felt dangerous.
Krillin's stance shifted subtly, his grief mixing with suspicion as he studied Sage's appearance.
"He... he looks exactly like Goku. What's going on here?"
Master Roshi approached more slowly, his experienced eyes taking in the destruction, the bodies, and the shell-shocked young man. His expression was unreadable, but his stance was clearly defensive.
"What exactly happened here, Piccolo?" the old master asked carefully, not taking his eyes off Sage.
"It's... complicated," Piccolo replied grimly. "The armored warrior was Goku's brother. And this one," he gestured to Sage, "is apparently the same species as both of them."
"Same species?" Bulma's voice rose with alarm. "You mean there are more like that monster?"
The temperature seemed to drop several degrees. Krillin took a half-step back, his fists clenching.
"Wait, you're saying he's the same species as that monster who killed Goku?"
"I... yes," Sage managed, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I... I helped cause this. It's my fault Goku is..."
"Damn right it's your fault!" Krillin's grief exploded into anger. "I felt your power signature mixed in with the fight! What did you do?!"
Sage flinched as if struck, his shoulders hunching defensively.
"I thought... I was so scared... I attacked without thinking and disrupted their positioning..."
Bulma took a step back, her scanner forgotten as she stared at this stranger with growing alarm.
"Stay away from us," she said, her voice shaking with a mixture of fear and rage. "Just... don't come any closer."
"I didn't mean to!" Sage's voice cracked. "I thought they were here for me! I thought—"
"You thought, you thought," Krillin snarled, taking another step forward. "Goku is dead because you thought!"
A weak cry echoed across the battlefield, drawing everyone's attention. Near the wreckage of a small spherical pod, something was moving.
"Gohan!" Krillin's anger immediately shifted to concern as he rushed toward the sound.
Sage watched in confusion as they pulled a small child from the damaged craft. The boy couldn't be more than four or five years old, with wild black hair that was unmistakably Saiyan.
"Goku had a son?" Sage whispered in amazement.
The child's eyes fluttered open, immediately searching for a familiar face. When they found Krillin and the others, tears began streaming down his small face.
"Uncle Krillin? Where's Daddy? I want my daddy!"
The raw pain in the child's voice cut through everyone present. Krillin knelt beside Gohan, his own eyes wet with unshed tears.
"Gohan, I... your daddy, he..."
"DADDY!" Gohan wailed, the sound echoing across the desolate battlefield. "I want my daddy! Where is he?!"
The child's grief was pure and devastating. He struggled against Krillin's gentle hold, trying to look around the battlefield.
"He was right here! Daddy was fighting the bad man and then... and then..."
Gohan's eyes found Goku's still form in the distance, and his small body went rigid with shock.
"Daddy? DADDY!"
He broke free from Krillin and ran toward his father on unsteady legs, collapsing beside Goku's body.
"Wake up, Daddy! Please wake up! I'll be good! I won't cry anymore! Just wake up!"
The sight broke something inside Sage. This innocent child, shaking his father's lifeless form, begging for him to respond. All because of Sage's fear and mistakes.
Then Gohan's tear-filled eyes found him across the battlefield. The resemblance was impossible to miss, and confusion mixed with his grief.
"You..." Gohan hiccupped through his sobs. "You look like Daddy... but you're not Daddy..."
The child's voice grew smaller, more frightened.
"Are you the bad man? Did you hurt my daddy too?"
The question hung in the air like a blade. Sage's face went ashen, and he took a step backward.
"I... no, I'm not... I didn't mean..."
"Answer him," Krillin's voice was deadly quiet. "Did you hurt Goku?"
Sage's legs gave out, and he fell to his knees again, this time not from grief but from the crushing weight of accusation from a grieving child.
"I... yes," he whispered. "Not on purpose, but... yes. I made a terrible mistake."
Gohan's face crumpled, and he pressed closer to his father's body.
"I hate you!" the child screamed. "Bring my daddy back! BRING HIM BACK!"
"I can't," Sage choked out. "I wish I could, but I can't..."
"Then you're a bad man too!" Gohan sobbed. "Just like the other one!"
Bulma moved protectively closer to the child, putting herself between Gohan and Sage.
"Everyone stay back from him," she said tersely, her scientific curiosity completely overwhelmed by maternal protectiveness.
"Wait," Piccolo interjected, his voice cutting through the tension. "Before anyone does anything rash, there's something you all need to know."
Krillin's head turned sharply. "What?"
"That warrior - Raditz - he said something before he died. About others coming."
Master Roshi's eyebrows rose with concern. "Others?"
"Two more of them. Stronger than he was. They'll be here in one year, looking for something called Dragon Balls."
The revelation hit the group like a cold wave. Master Roshi's expression grew grave.
"More of... these Saiyans?"
"Yes," Piccolo confirmed. "And according to what I've heard here today, they won't be coming to talk."
"Dragon Balls..." Bulma whispered, her fear momentarily overcome by realization. "Wait, that means..."
"They can bring Goku back," Piccolo finished. "The Dragon Balls can grant wishes, including resurrection."
The words hit the group like a physical shock. Bulma's eyes widened, and even Master Roshi straightened with interest.
"You mean..." Krillin breathed.
"I mean death isn't permanent here. We can wish him back to life."
Gohan stopped crying, his small face turning hopefully toward Piccolo.
"Really? We can bring Daddy back?"
"Yes," Piccolo confirmed gently. "But it won't be easy. The Dragon Balls have scattered, and we'll need to find all seven."
Sage looked up with desperate hope flickering in his eyes.
"Then... then maybe I can help? I can help find these Dragon Balls and make this right?"
"Like hell you can," Krillin snarled. "You think we'd trust you after what you've done?"
"I understand your anger," Sage said quietly. "But please... let me try to fix this. It's the only way I can live with what I've done."
Master Roshi stroked his beard thoughtfully, the implications sinking in.
"So we have two problems - finding these Dragon Balls to revive Goku, and preparing for an invasion by beings potentially stronger than what we just witnessed."
"Three problems," Krillin added grimly, gesturing toward Sage. "What do we do about him?"
All eyes turned to the young Saiyan, who had remained silent during their exchange. The weight of their stares made him visibly uncomfortable.
"I know you have no reason to trust me," Sage said quietly. "But I want to help. I need to help. Please."
"Help?" Krillin's voice was incredulous. "After what you just did?"
"Look," Master Roshi said slowly, his tactical mind working. "Like it or not, this young man may be our best source of information about what's coming. He knows these... Saiyans... better than any of us."
Bulma looked skeptical. "You want to just trust him? After he helped kill Goku?"
"I want to get answers," Roshi replied. "And right now, he's the only one who might have them."
The old master fixed Sage with a penetrating stare.
"You'll come with us. You'll answer our questions. And you'll help us understand what we're facing. But make no mistake - one wrong move, and this alliance ends."
Sage nodded eagerly, desperate for any chance at redemption.
"I understand. I'll tell you everything I know about Frieza, about the Saiyans, about what Vegeta and Nappa are capable of."
Gohan wiped his eyes and looked at Sage with a mixture of hurt and desperate hope.
"If... if you help bring Daddy back... will you promise not to hurt anyone else?"
The innocent question cut deeper than any accusation. Sage met the child's eyes with complete sincerity.
"I promise, Gohan. I'll spend the rest of my life making sure i repent for my mistakes."
"One year," he repeated. "I have to be ready."
"We will be," Piccolo said with quiet confidence. "All of us."
As they prepared to leave the battlefield, Sage looked back one more time at the destruction he'd helped cause. But alongside the guilt, there was something else now - determination.
He would make this right. He would bring Goku back. And when Vegeta and Nappa arrived seeking the Dragon Balls, they would find not just Earth's defenders waiting for them, but a Saiyan who had finally found something worth fighting for.
The rain began to lighten as they departed, leaving behind the site of tragedy that would, in time, become the foundation of hope.