“Queen?”
The distorted voice mockingly asks. The language is roughly the Saiyan language, but the dialect is one she’s never heard.
“No queen. Just meat for us.”
The third ship opens up and thirty saiyans in strange black and grey armor pour out, all rough and mean looking men and women. None have any markings of where they came from, and all have a more....animalistic gaze. Less gentrified.
Behind them come three more people.
The namekian’s magic is potent even from this distance, and coming up behind the ice knight and demon lord seem just as potent. The namekian also seems somehow...rougher. The skin tint off somehow.
The saiyan man speaks again.
“We want planet. We take planet. We saiyans have no Queen. Stupid.”
His hand is around Sarada’s throat, squeezing with impressive force.
“Meat no talk back.”