The golden light from Razor's aura flickered wildly, casting shadows that danced across the ruined cell. Dust hung in the air, and the burning stench lingered from his raw energy discharge. Tirax stood calmly in front of him, hands still clasped behind his back, a faint, composed smile on his lips—as if none of this chaos was worth breaking posture over.
Eighteen glanced at Razor, then at Tirax, her expression tense. The weight of the moment was unmistakable. Razor's breathing was heavy, his anger still fresh, his body trembling not from fear but from the sheer pressure of holding back his power.
Finally, Razor spoke, his tone low but firm."Eighteen… this is my fight."
She didn't argue this time. Her usual smirk was gone, replaced by quiet understanding. "I figured you'd say that." She met his eyes for a moment longer. "Just—don't underestimate him. His ability to absorb planet is weird."
Razor gave a short nod, his expression unreadable. "I won't."
With that, Eighteen turned, blasting off through a broken section of the ship. Her golden trail of light shot into the ruined sky as she headed toward the pirate encampments below, determined to save whatever lives still remained on the half-destroyed planet.
Razor's gaze followed her for a brief moment before shifting back to Tirax, whose eyes lazily tracked the scene like a man watching a stage play.
"Touching," Tirax said smoothly, dusting off his coat sleeve. "It seems she's grown fond of you. Well, I will deal with her later."
Razor's jaw clenched. "You talk too much."
Tirax chuckled lightly, his tone gentlemanly, almost soothing. "It's a dreadful habit, I admit. But good conversation is so rare these days."
That calm arrogance irked Razor to no end. Without another word, the Saiyan's aura exploded outward, lightning crackling violently around him as his transformation flared — Super Saiyan 2. The ground beneath him cracked and cratered under the sudden burst of pressure.
"Let's see if you can still talk when I break your jaw," Razor growled, and in an instant, he vanished.
A thunderous shockwave split the air as Razor's fist flew toward Tirax's face — only for it to pass through empty space. Tirax was already behind him, his coat fluttering lightly.
"Fast," Tirax said, his tone amused. "But not fast enough."
Razor spun, launching a flurry of blows — each strike faster than sound, each carrying enough force to split steel. But Tirax glided through the attacks effortlessly, weaving through the chaos with almost balletic grace. His movements were smooth, refined, almost elegant — the kind of speed that didn't strain his body, as though time itself gave him room to move.
Razor's frustration grew with every miss. He vanished and reappeared behind Tirax, delivering a spinning kick that sliced through the air — and again hit nothing.
Then Tirax's gloved hand gently touched Razor's back, and before he could react, a sudden burst of kinetic force sent him crashing into the metal wall.
Razor's breath left his lungs as the wall caved inward, sparks flying.
"Your reflexes are impressive," Tirax commented mildly, stepping closer. "But you rely too much on raw power. That's your kind's flaw — all power, no refinement."
Razor pulled himself out of the wall, golden sparks still dancing around him. "You're not refined. You're just hiding behind tricks."
"Tricks?" Tirax smiled politely. "Oh no, my boy. What I use is art."
He blurred forward before Razor could blink. The Saiyan barely managed to cross his arms as Tirax's strike connected. The sheer speed and force behind it sent Razor sliding back across the metallic floor, gouging twin trenches in the metal floor.
From the distance, on the far edge of the pirate base, Eighteen had just finished tearing through a group of thugs. Her fists glowed as she blasted the last of them into the dirt. Behind her, frightened inhabitants — malnourished, chained, desperate — stared in disbelief.
"Get moving!" she ordered, shooting the last chain off a prisoner. "Find cover and stay down."
But as they turned to flee, a blinding golden flash on the horizon made them stop and look. Far away, above the ruined facility, Razor and Tirax's battle illuminated the darkening sky.
Every explosion echoed like thunder. Yet as they watched, their hearts sank — for it was Razor who stumbled, Razor whose blood splattered the ground, while Tirax stood untouched, still composed, brushing dust off his lapel between strikes. It was clear to them that the golden warrior fighting Tirax was their only hope.
Back in the battlefield, Razor wiped blood from his mouth, breathing heavily. His body ached.
Tirax looked down at him with mild amusement, as though assessing a student's performance. "You seem surprised," he said conversationally. "Perhaps I should explain. I've always been fascinated by efficiency. Why waste energy training when one can borrow it?"
"What the hell are you talking about?" Razor spat.
Tirax spread his arms as if giving a lecture. "This planet feeds me. I absorb its life force, convert it into energy, and focus it into speed. That is why you cannot touch me. Every cell in my body is accelerated far beyond the natural limit."
He smirked slightly. "I may not be the strongest, Razor… but in terms of speed, there is no one alive who can match me."
Razor's eyes narrowed. "Then I'll just have to hit faster."
With a roar, he vanished again — but Tirax sidestepped him mid-charge, leaving a faint afterimage where he'd stood.
A fist met empty air.
Then Tirax countered with a single palm strike to Razor's abdomen, sending him flying back into a crater of twisted metal.
From afar, Eighteen's fists tightened as she watched. "Come on, Razor… get up."
Razor stood slowly, chest heaving. His thoughts raced. He's fast… too fast. But raw speed isn't everything. If I can't catch him… maybe I can end him in one blow.
He floated upward, raising his hand as energy began to condense around it, swirling violently — a familiar, terrifying technique forming on his hand: Collapsing Star.
The light grew brighter and brighter, warping the air.
But then — out of the corner of his eye — he saw them.
Eighteen. The survivors. Watching.
Their faces filled with hope… and fear.
Razor clenched his teeth, and the energy faded. The glowing sphere dispersed with a frustrated snarl. No. Not here. That attack would wipe everything out.
Tirax, noticing his hesitation, chuckled softly. "Oh, noble now, are we? How interesting. The experiment learns empathy."
Razor didn't answer. His expression hardened instead, his aura flaring violently once again.
"If I can't blow you up," he muttered, "then I'll crush you myself."
And then — the ground trembled. The air itself seemed to bend. Razor's hair spiked higher, elongating until it reached his waist, electricity tearing across his body. His muscles expanded, his scream echoing across the ruined plains.
Tirax's smile faltered slightly, curiosity flashing in his eyes as Razor ascended to Super Saiyan 3.
Golden lightning ripped through the sky as the transformation reached its peak. The sheer pressure shattered nearby debris, and even Tirax had to brace himself.
"My, my…" Tirax murmured with admiration. "You continue to surprise me. How delightful."
But Razor didn't reply. He appeared in front of Tirax so suddenly that even the pirate leader barely had time to react. Razor's fist collided with his face, sending Tirax crashing through multiple steel beams before smashing into the side of a cliff.
For the first time, Tirax's composed façade cracked — blood trickled down his lip.
Eighteen's eyes widened from afar. "He hit him!"
The survivors cheered, their hope rising.
Razor stood tall amid the dust, his hair flowing wildly, golden aura roaring like a storm. "Not so fast now, are you?"
Tirax rose from the rubble, wiping the blood from his mouth with a gloved thumb. Then, slowly, the smile returned. "Impressive. Truly. You've grown far more than I ever expected."
He adjusted his collar casually. "But your power burns like a candle in a storm. Bright… but brief."
Razor didn't wait for him to finish. He vanished again, unleashing a barrage of strikes that forced Tirax on the defensive. Each impact sent shockwaves ripping through the air, tearing apart the land beneath their feet. Tirax barely managed to keep up, his once-effortless grace now straining under Razor's onslaught. With a destructo beam Tirax was launched to a cliff.
But Razor could feel it — the drain. Every second in this form clawed at his ki, burning away his energy.
He gritted his teeth and pushed harder. One last punch connected, sending Tirax reeling — blood staining his coat. For a moment, it looked like victory.
Then Razor's eyes widened.
The wounds sealed. Tirax stood once again his exhaustion fading.
And in the distance, the remaining green patches of the planet began to wither. Trees shriveled, grass turned gray, and the ground itself started to decay.
Tirax exhaled, rolling his shoulders. "You see, Razor, I don't just absorb life once. The planet still has plenty left for me to borrow."
Eighteen's face fell as she and the survivors watched in horror. "He's… healing himself using the planet…"
Razor stood, panting, golden lightning fading as his form reverted back to Super Saiyan 2. His muscles trembled.
Tirax straightened his cuffs, his voice once again smooth and composed. "You've impressed me, truly. But this little performance has reached its end."
The golden aura around Razor flickered, his body covered in cuts and bruises. Yet despite the exhaustion, his glare burned hotter than ever.
From afar, Eighteen and the survivors looked on, their brief hope shattered as Tirax stood unharmed — calm, elegant, and utterly terrifying — while Razor, bloodied and barely standing, refused to kneel.
The battle was far from over. But for now, hope hung by a thread.