The vast silence of space stretched endlessly outside the ship's glass viewport — a dark ocean speckled with distant, dying stars. The low hum of the engine echoed through the metallic corridors, steady and mechanical, the only heartbeat within the emptiness.
Razor walked through the silence, his every step heavy with exhaustion. The battle had drained him to his core; even with his immense power, the fight had left his muscles aching and ki unstable. His golden aura was long gone, replaced by exhaustion. Behind him, Android 18 followed — arms crossed, gaze lowered but expression unreadable.
Neither spoke.
The air between them was heavy — not with the quiet of peace, but the suffocating stillness of words unspoken. Razor keyed in the coordinates for a nearby planet, one ruled by a warlord involved in some shady businesses but not strong enough to stand in front of him. It wasn't their main destination — merely a stop, a place to rest and gather supplies and information.
Once the navigation was set, Razor turned toward the medicinal pod. "Stay out of trouble," he said flatly, voice low and cold. Without waiting for a reply, he stepped into the healing chamber. The pod hissed shut, filling with a faint blue liquid that began repairing his body cell by cell. His black hair hung damp from the healing fluid, a far cry from the blazing gold that once crowned him in battle.
Three days passed.
The ship drifted through the black void, guided by the coordinates Razor had entered. The engines purred steadily, lights dimmed to simulate the quiet of night. 18 spent most of her time sitting near the viewport, legs folded beneath her, eyes tracing the endless stars. Despite herself, her thoughts wandered back to Razor — to the way he fought, the way he pushed past his limits without hesitation, to the fury and desire that burned behind his black eyes.
But she pushed the thoughts away.
When the pod finally hissed open, a rush of cold air spread across the chamber. Razor stepped out, his body completely healed, but his expression — darker. His black hair shimmered faintly as he stretched his neck, the faint pop of his joints echoing through the silent room. His eyes, sharp and unreadable, landed on 18.
"You're awake," she said dryly, leaning back in her chair. "Did the great warrior finally get enough beauty sleep?"
Razor didn't answer. He just walked past her, his steps heavy, controlled — too controlled. Something in the way he moved made 18 frown.
She pushed herself off the chair, crossing her arms. "What? No comeback? That's not like you. Or are you too tired to talk to someone beneath your 'godly power'?"
He stopped. Slowly, Razor turned his head, pitch black eyes narrowing slightly. The silence that followed made the air feel thick. Then, in a blur, he moved.
Before 18 could react, his hand was around her neck, pinning her against the metallic wall with a sharp clang.
Her eyes widened — not in fear, but in shock. The cold steel bit into her back, and Razor's grip tightened, enough to make her breath hitch. She glared back, jaw clenched. "What the hell are you doing?" she rasped, voice strained but defiant.
Razor's expression was unreadable, though his aura flared faintly around him — golden sparks flickering at the edges of his frame. His voice, when it came, was low and controlled, but laced with restrained fury."You didn't listen," he said. "I told you not to leave the ship during the fight. You ignored me. You almost died."
18's fingers wrapped around his wrist, trying to pry it off, but he didn't budge. Her eyes flashed with anger. "So what? You think you get to decide that for me?!" she spat. "I'm not your soldier, Razor. I'm not your property!"
He leaned in slightly, eyes cold, voice sharp. "You're reckless. I warned you because I knew what would happen. You charging in—" his grip tightened slightly, "—almost got you killed. And me, too."
A bitter laugh escaped her lips even as she struggled against his hold. "Oh, I got you killed, if I was even a moment late you would have been a snack for that beast, and don't flatter yourself," she hissed. "You think I need your protection? I've survived worse than you can imagine."
Razor's jaw tensed. The memory of her injured body lying in the crater flashed in his mind — her protecting him even when she didn't have to. Something twisted in his chest, but his pride buried it under anger. "You disobeyed me. I didn't need your help, I had those healing beans. You—"
"—Sound exactly like him," she snapped.
Razor froze. For a moment, his grip loosened.
Her voice, once mocking, now trembled with something deeper — anger mixed with old pain. "You sound just like Dr. Gero," she said, eyes narrowing. "Telling me what I can or can't do. Controlling every step I take. Treating me like a tool."
Razor's hand slowly dropped from her neck, his expression hard but conflicted. 18 stepped forward, rubbing her throat, glaring up at him with that familiar prideful fire. "I'm not some object for display," she said, her tone steadying. "I make my own decisions. Always have, always will."
He turned away, fists tightening. "You think freedom means running headfirst into death?" he muttered.
"No," she shot back. "It means I get to choose when I fight, and when I don't."
The silence that followed was deafening. The hum of the ship felt louder than ever. Razor stood still, his back turned to her, aura flickering faintly around him — the golden glow reflecting off the metal walls like a dying flame.
18's gaze softened for a brief second, seeing something almost human in the stillness of his stance. But the softness faded as quickly as it came. She crossed her arms again, voice low but sharp. "You think power gives you the right to control everything around you. But it just makes you alone."
Razor's eyes narrowed, though he didn't turn. "I've always been alone," he said quietly. "And I've always survived."
"Yeah," she said, stepping past him toward the door, "but surviving and living aren't the same thing."
The door slid open with a mechanical hiss. 18 stopped at the threshold, glancing back just once. "Try not to strangle anyone else who tries to save you in future," she said dryly, the faintest smirk curling her lips before she walked out.
The door closed behind her, leaving Razor alone in the quiet corridor. He stood there for a long moment, the faint marks of his fingers still visible on the wall where he'd pinned her. His reflection in the metal looked back — a warrior who'd faced monsters, aliens, and extinction itself… yet couldn't control his own temper.
His aura flickered again — bright for a moment, then gone.
He exhaled sharply and turned toward the viewport. The stars stared back, indifferent and cold. Somewhere deep inside, beneath all the pride and fury, a strange unease began to stir — something unfamiliar. Something he didn't want to name.
Outside, the stars streaked by as the ship continued its silent journey — two powerful beings inside, both scarred by their pasts, bound by pride, and slowly being torn apart by it.