The sharp echo of clapping hands cut through the tense silence of the ship's dimly lit corridor. Each slow, deliberate clap carried mockery, slicing through the fragile moment of reunion between Razor and Eighteen.
"Beautiful," a deep, sardonic voice drawled. "Truly touching. I could almost cry."
Razor turned sharply, his expression darkening as the figure stepped from the shadows — tall, cloaked in a coat of obsidian leather that shimmered under the faint emergency lights. His slick gray hair brushed the shoulders of his coat, his cold, sunken eyes glinting with intelligence and malice. This was Tirax, leader of the pirate group — and the true puppeteer behind much more than Razor yet knew.
Eighteen's expression hardened immediately, her stance shifting slightly beside Razor, though she knew well he didn't need protection.
"Tirax," she hissed. "You're here."
"Alive and thriving, my dear," he said with a crooked smile, his eyes drifting toward Razor. But then he froze, studying the young Saiyan's wild, spiky hair, the faint shimmer of his tail swaying behind him. A spark of realization ignited in his gaze — one of familiarity and disbelief.
"…A tail," he whispered, almost to himself. "Spiky hair… dark eyes filled with defiance…" His smile widened. "It can't be… but it is."
Razor's brow furrowed. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Tirax's chuckle deepened into something more sinister. "I know you," he said slowly, almost savoring the words. "I remember that tail. That stubborn glare. I remember you, Razor."
The Saiyan's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You don't know me."
"Oh, but I do," Tirax replied, voice dropping low with twisted nostalgia. "I know you far better than you think. You were… quite the special little project of mine."
Razor stiffened. "What?"
Eighteen's head snapped toward him, concern flickering in her eyes.
Tirax folded his hands behind his back and began pacing slowly, his words deliberate and laced with pride. "Long ago… just before Frieza destroyed Planet Vegeta, I was conducting research — research into warrior races. I was fascinated by one in particular: the Saiyans. A brutal species, yes, but with certain… unique qualities. Their ability to transform into Great Apes under the moonlight. Their incredible increase in power after surviving near-death experiences — the Zenkai boost, as your kind called it."
He stopped, turning his sharp eyes toward Razor. "A fascinating gift of evolution. I wanted to understand it… and perhaps, replicate it."
Razor said nothing, his jaw tightening. His aura flickered faintly, a telltale sign of restrained emotion.
Tirax's smirk deepened. "But I didn't want to go through the trouble of dealing with Frieza myself. Instead, I reached out to the Heeters — clever little brokers, always eager to make profit. I paid them handsomely to procure a specimen. A Saiyan infant."
Eighteen's eyes widened. "You… you bought an infant?"
"Of course, an infant," Tirax said with a shrug, as if it were trivial. "And I got what I asked for. A baby born just days ago with a power level of twelve — unimpressive, weak even. But I didn't need strength. I needed purity — a blank canvas for my experiments."
Razor's fingers twitched. The memory he had long buried — flashes of sterile white walls, metallic restraints, and pain — surfaced like daggers through his mind. His chest tightened.
Tirax continued, his tone still calm. "Precisely. When you were just an infant, my scientists conducted extensive research on your genome. We discovered that the current Saiyans were, by far, the weakest they had ever been. Their strength potential was diminished over generations by mutations in the bloodline. Yet within these sequences were the traces of something extraordinary: the capacity for growth during battle, Zenkai boosts manifesting in real time, rather than only after near-death recovery. And—fascinatingly—the potential to access the power of Great Ape transformation even in human form."
Tirax continued, voice almost gleeful now. "I sent the infant to a research facility on one of my controlled worlds." He paused. "My scientists began studying his DNA, dissecting it, probing the limits of his Zenkai. We extracted tissue samples, injected serums, tested how far we could push his Zenkai ability."
Tirax's voice softened, almost contemplative. "It was a shame the infant was so weak. Extracting these mutations directly from the human form proved impossible. The traits were nearly nonexistent in you. But it gave rise to a new idea… what if the same mutations could be expressed in the Great Ape? A wild Great Ape, constantly growing in strength during battle… under careful observation. A living demonstration of raw, adaptive power. It was the next best idea I could come up with. Damn Frieza killing all Saiyans leaving me with only one weak subject."
Eighteen looked at Razor, horror and awe mingling in her expression. "You… you experimented on him as a baby…"
"Observation," Tirax said gently, his tone disarmingly polite. "Scientific observation. We monitored every response, every surge of energy, every awakening of latent traits. The goal was understanding, not destruction."
Razor's jaw tightened.
"Consider it… meticulous research," Tirax said, voice smooth, almost soothing. "The infant was weak, yes, but the data we collected was invaluable. It revealed the hidden pathways of Saiyan evolution, how latent traits could awaken under extreme conditions."
Tirax smiled gently, as if explaining a complex concept to a student. "We induced the great ape transformation under controlled conditions, carrying experiments, magnifying those dormant mutations that the Saiyan genes showed. And the results… were fascinating."
He paused, letting the words settle. "Saiyan's Great Ape form—already a creature of raw strength—but yours because of our experiments grew beyond anything recorded in our databases. Larger, stronger, and infinitely more volatile. The energy readings exceeded all predictions. You were… a force of nature. No restraint, no control. The moment you were unleashed, you destroyed everything in your path. Barricades, observation towers, entire testing wings… nothing remained."
Tirax's lips curved in an almost imperceptible smile. "I lost good men that day. And yet, I couldn't even be angry. It was fascinating — the power of that primal rage. Each time the Great Ape engaged them, its strength increased rapidly. Soldiers hundreds of times stronger than it struggled to control that raw power. Every blow, every clash, every survival response intensified the mutations. My hypothesis—that a Saiyan with these traits could grow stronger continuously during combat—was correct."
Tirax's smile faltered as if remembering something sad, "But these traits even with all our experiments failed to manifest in your human form, although you grew stronger after transforming back but that mutations too became dormant as if refusing to show in you. Only awakening in your great ape form."
Tirax's smile was calm, almost approving. "You are weak Razor, compared to what you could have been, yes. Not in your current form… but in what the potential of those mutations could achieve. The traits we magnified in your Great Ape—while dormant in your human form—remain encoded within you. They lie waiting, perhaps even now, unutilized because you have not awakened that form willingly."
Razor's eyes glittered with a faint hue, his voice steady but edged with steel. "Maybe. But I never needed to. I fought with what I had, pushed myself beyond limits… and I survived. Always. I never needed that transformation. I never needed to go that far."
Tirax inclined his head, as if impressed by Razor's restraint. "Astutely observed. It seems you possess the rare combination of instinct and discipline. In fact, during one such experiment, you—well, your Great Ape form—became so violent that it annihilated all the soldiers in the facility while I was away attending to other matters."
Razor's eyes narrowed, the memory flashing faintly in his mind.
"By the time I returned," Tirax continued, his tone calm, measured, "the Great Ape was gone. Or rather, you had transformed back into your human form and escaped, using one of the space pods. I searched, scouring worlds, systems, and nebulae… yet I could not find you."
Razor's tail flicked sharply. "And yet, I am still me. Your experiments… they shaped nothing but the circumstances. You didn't create me."
Tirax's calm, analytical eyes softened fractionally, as if acknowledging Razor's point. "Indeed. The framework was mine, yes, but the execution—the survival, the growth, the adaptation—entirely yours. The Great Ape experiments, the augmentation of mutations, the continuous Zenkai boosts in battle… all of it was data. But you… you are the living variable that could never be fully controlled. And perhaps, that is what made you… exceptional."
Razor's fists unclenched slightly, his breathing slowing. His aura dimmed, though the faint flicker of gold remained. "Then… even now… those traits lie dormant."
Tirax inclined his head once more, gentlemanly and composed. "It would seem so. Until you choose to awaken them, or until battle demands it."
Razor's eyes met Tirax's, cold and unwavering. "Then I will awaken them on my terms."
Eighteen stepped closer to him, almost instinctively. "Razor…"
But he didn't look at her. His fists were clenched so tightly that blood trickled from his palms.
Tirax smiled faintly, the hint of satisfaction in his calm demeanor evident. "Of course, Razor. That… is what makes the experiment, and you, truly remarkable."
Eighteen's lips parted in disbelief. "You're taking credit for kidnapping and torturing him?"
"Perspective, my dear," Tarix said lightly. "I saved him. I gave him purpose."
Something inside Razor snapped. His ki surged violently, shaking the entire corridor. Dust rained from the ceiling as golden lightning crackled around him for an instant before fading — his fury still restrained, but barely.
Razor's black eyes flared for a brief moment, the air around him humming with contained energy. "Saved me?" he repeated, his voice low, deadly, and filled with restrained fury. "You call this… 'saving'?"
Tirax inclined his head slightly, calm and composed. "A different perspective, Razor. One could say I preserved the potential that might have otherwise been lost."
Razor's fists clenched again, but his expression remained controlled. "Potential… isn't life. Potential isn't freedom. You may have shaped circumstances, but you didn't shape me."
Tirax's faint smile deepened, almost approving. "No. That… that is entirely yours. And perhaps that is why you are exceptional. You survived, adapted, and outgrew every measure we tried to impose."
A moment of silence stretched between them. The hum of Razor's ki resonated through the corridor, a subtle warning that his patience had limits.
Eighteen's voice broke the tension, hesitant but firm. "Razor… this doesn't define you. You're stronger than any of this… stronger than him."
Razor finally turned his gaze from Tirax to her, and then back to the scientist. His voice was calm, almost chilling in its quiet intensity. "I am what I am because of myself. Not because of you. Not because of your experiments."
Tirax's eyes sparkled with the faintest trace of admiration. "Indeed… and that is the most fascinating outcome of all."
Razor's aura flared brighter, not in anger, but in assertion. The faint flickers of gold lightning danced around him, echoing the untapped potential still coiled within him. "Know this," he said, voice steady and unwavering, "anyone who tries to control me again… will regret it."
The corridor fell silent once more, the only sound the faint hum of the ship and Razor's controlled energy radiating like a warning beacon.
Tirax inclined his head once more, gentlemanly, composed, almost at ease. "Then, Razor… the rest is entirely up to you. And I, for one, am… deeply curious to see what you will do next."
Razor's eyes, still glowing faintly gold, met Tirax's for a final, unflinching moment. He didn't answer with words. His stance, his presence, his very aura spoke for him: untamed, free, and beyond the reach of any experiment.
Eighteen stepped closer again, her hand lightly touching his arm. Razor's gaze softened slightly—not at Tirax, not at the memory of the experiments, but at the one person who had stood beside him.
The moment stretched—a fragile calm before the storm of battles yet to come.
And somewhere in the recesses of his mind, Razor knew one truth above all: the potential that Tirax had tried to manipulate… was his alone to awaken. And when that day came, no force in the universe would be able to contain it.
The corridor seemed to shrink around them, the shadows deepening, the faint hum of the ship vibrating like a heartbeat. And Razor, silent, unyielding, and unbroken, prepared for the path that was truly his own.