The wind was still heavy with the scent of blood and ash. The sky, torn apart by the clash of gods, was finally quiet. Razor's body fell limp from the air, crashing towards the cracked ground below. His golden aura flickered and died out, and with it, the roar of a Saiyan that had shaken the planet was reduced to silence.
Android 18 caught him before he hit the ground, her arms trembling not from weakness, but from the shock of what she had just witnessed. Razor's face — smeared with blood and dirt — was peaceful now, yet his body was still radiating faint heat from the power that had just erupted.
For a moment, she didn't move. The world around them was still — no explosions, no screams, no mocking laughter from Tirax. Only the faint rustle of dust and wind.
She looked down at Razor's unconscious form. The same warrior who had once crushed planets without remorse, who had fought her with cold detachment, was now clinging to life in her arms.
"He… he actually did it…" she whispered, her voice trembling.
Her blue eyes traced the scars running across his chest and arms — deep, brutal, raw. Every injury was a reminder of what he had endured — and what he had become.
The survivors who had witnessed the battle were gathering in the distance, whispering among themselves, their fear slowly giving way to awe. Razor's final act had saved them — though at what cost, they couldn't say.
18 looked away from them and back at Razor. Her expression softened.
He had grown softer, yes — but not weak. That softness had been reserved only for her. In the face of his enemies, he was still the same merciless Saiyan, a living storm of rage and pride. His brutality wasn't gone; it had merely been tamed, waiting to erupt at the right moment.
She brushed a strand of blood-matted hair from his face, her voice low and uncertain. "You idiot… you almost got yourself killed."
There was no answer — only shallow, uneven breathing. His chest rose and fell in faint, ragged motions.
She could feel his pulse fading.
"Damn it…" she muttered, clenching her jaw. "Don't you dare die on me now."
Her mind flashed back to the place she had called home these last few weeks — a small shelter she had built near the forest's edge, where the medicinal pod from Razor's ship still remained. That pod had saved him before. Maybe it could save him again.
But before she could take off, a sudden sound made her freeze.
A sharp crack tore through the still air.
She turned back — eyes widening — as Tirax's torn remains began to twitch, glowing with a strange light. The ground beneath his shredded body pulsed as if it were alive, veins of energy spreading through the dirt like fire.
Then, without warning, an explosion of blinding light burst out.
The blast wasn't destructive — not this time. Instead, it spread across the land, a ripple of energy rolling over the scarred terrain. The same life force Tirax had devoured was being released.
Burnt forests sprouted green once more. The sky, darkened by ash, began to clear as sunlight poured through the clouds.
The planet was healing.
For a moment, 18 just stood there — the dying Saiyan in her arms, and the world around them coming back to life. The sight was almost divine, yet all she could feel was an ache in her chest.
The survivors, too, saw it. They stared, then cried out in disbelief. Cheers erupted. They hugged one another, their laughter echoing across the field where death had once reigned.
"Look! The land— it's healing!"
"The curse… it's gone!"
"Tirax is dead! We're free!"
Their cheers grew louder, a celebration of salvation. None of them looked toward Razor — the one responsible for both their horror and their hope. They didn't know, or perhaps didn't care, that their savior had almost become the monster that instilled fear on them moments ago.
18 watched them for only a moment before turning her gaze back to Razor.
He was barely breathing now.
She gritted her teeth. "You better not die, Saiyan," she hissed, and with that, she took off.
The air whooshed past her as she soared across the recovering landscape. The forests below were regrowing in real-time, rivers cutting new paths through the soil. It would have been beautiful if she wasn't racing against death itself.
She spotted the clearing — the one she had turned into her new home after leaving Razor's ship weeks ago. There, beside the remains of her workshop, stood the metallic chamber she had salvaged from his ship: the medicinal pod.
She landed hard, her boots cracking the ground beneath her, and rushed to the pod. It was still functional — the system lights flickering faintly.
"Please work," she muttered under her breath.
She laid Razor gently inside, his body limp and cold. His breathing had slowed to almost nothing.
Her fingers moved quickly, adjusting the control panels. The machine whirred to life, faint hums filling the silence.
18 placed the oxygen mask on Razor's face, her fingers lingering on his cheek for a second longer than she meant to.
"You're supposed to be the tough one," she whispered. "Don't make me do all the work keeping you alive."
As the healing liquid began to fill the chamber, slowly submerging Razor, she stepped back. The green glow illuminated his face — calm, serene, as if he were only sleeping.
The air inside the small home was filled with the gentle hum of the pod.
18 leaned against the nearby wall, folding her arms. She was exhausted, her energy almost spent. Yet, she couldn't bring herself to rest.
She looked at him through the glass. His golden hair had faded back to black, his face returning to the familiar calm she had seen during the quieter moments of their journey. But behind that calm, she knew what lay dormant — the fury of a Saiyan, the unyielding pride, the brutality that even death couldn't erase.
A faint smile tugged at her lips. "You haven't changed much, have you?" she murmured.
Outside, the cheers of the survivors still echoed faintly across the hills. The planet, now restored, was alive again — but its savior was half-dead in a pod, and the woman who once left him was now the one keeping him alive.
She turned away from the pod and looked toward the sky, where the light of two suns began to set, their golden glow reflecting off the liquid within the chamber.
For a moment, she allowed herself to breathe.
Her thoughts drifted back to when they had first met — their constant bickering, his arrogance, her mocking smirks. Somehow, that chaos had turned into something else, something she couldn't quite name.
She didn't know what Razor meant to her. But she knew one thing for certain.
She wasn't ready to lose him. Not now. Not after everything.
As night slowly fell over the planet, the healing light of the pod glowed softly in the darkness — a small beacon of life after a storm of death.
And inside it, the Saiyan slept — alive but changed.
Maybe this was the end of destruction. Or maybe, it was the beginning of something new.