The black hole screamed like a living thing. Space folded, time twisted, and existence itself shuddered. Razor's body was caught in the violent maelstrom, torn and stretched, every molecule threatening to unravel. His vision was nothing but fragments of light and agony — sensations of burning, freezing, and collapsing all at once.
His body was no longer his own. The force of the singularity stripping away everything — his energy, his consciousness, his form. All that remained was pain.
Duragon, who had been closer to the core, was shredded first. His body broke apart like dust, swallowed into the infinite abyss. The armor that once gleamed like pride was the first to vanish, then his limbs, then his face — until there was nothing left but scattered fragments of his essence torn apart by the collapsing fabric of time.
Razor floated behind, blood and energy trailing from him in ribbons. His aura had vanished long ago, replaced by faint motes of light that flickered weakly like dying stars.
The last thing he remembered before darkness took him was a deep sound — not from the black hole, not from any world or creature, but from within himself. A roar.
It was primal fueled by rage. The roar of a beast that had long been asleep inside him, now awakened by his dying breath.
When Razor opened his eyes, there was no light, no form — only an endless expanse of black mist stretching infinitely in all directions. The ground beneath him pulsed like a heartbeat, as if the very world he stood upon was alive. His body felt weightless, yet heavy with invisible chains that bound his every movement.
And then, through the mist, he saw it.
The shape emerged slowly — colossal, monstrous, and terrifying. Its size defied reason. The Great Ape, the primal form of his race, loomed above him like a mountain. The creature's fur was the color of red, and its eyes… its eyes were pure white no iris or pupil, filled with pure hatred.
Even from where Razor stood, his entire body barely reached the height of its eye. Each breath the beast took shook the ground like thunder.
Razor's breath caught. "You…"
The ape tilted its head, its massive nostrils flaring as if it recognized him. Then, in a voice that shook the void, it spoke — not in words, but through feeling, through rage that seared into Razor's mind.
"You are weak."
The sound echoed inside his skull, forcing him to his knees. The ape's breath was hot and foul, filled with fury.
"You cage me. You bury me. You fear me. Yet you are nothing without me. You suppress what you are! You run from the power that is only yours!"
Razor stumbled backward, clenching his chest as the echoes tore through him."I'm… not running," he hissed. "I can't control it! If I let you out, everything dies—everything I fought for!"
The Great Ape's lips curled back, revealing fangs larger than Razor's body.
"Control?" it bellowed. "You've chained me, denied me, weakened yourself! Look at you—broken, dying! Your pride means nothing when you fall like an insect!"
The ground cracked beneath Razor's feet as the ape slammed its fists against the earth. The shockwave sent him flying backward, pain surging through his chest.
"You let yourself grow weak. You sought reason, control — you forgot what it means to fight! You forgot what it means to survive!"
Razor pushed himself up, coughing blood. "Control isn't weakness! It's what makes me—"
The beast roared, cutting him off. The sound was deafening. It tore through him, rattling his bones, shaking his mind.
"Coward. You call it control, but I call it fear! Fear of what you truly are!"
The Great Ape leaned down until its massive eye filled Razor's vision.
"You hide from me. But if you die now, I die too. You want strength? Then stop running from me — embrace it, embrace your true nature!"
The beast's roar rose again — louder, angrier — and suddenly the black mist around them ignited with light. Razor felt something burst inside his chest, like a dam breaking.
His vision flooded with memories — of every battle, every scar, every moment of pain. His body burned, his veins alight with fire. And beneath it all, that roar — that ancient Saiyan instinct — kept calling to him.
"Use me… or be erased with me."
Back inside the black hole, Razor's body — still caught in the gravitational tunnel of the collapsing black hole — began to change.
The shredding of his skin slowed. His aura, once faint, erupted into a violent crimson-black blaze. The gravitational pull around him distorted wildly as his power level began to surge.
Red fur began to crawl across his arms, legs, and shoulders, thick and coarse like armor. His chest, torso, and face remained exposed, glowing faintly under the crimson black aura that now completely engulfed him. His muscles swelled with primal energy, veins bulging beneath the skin.
It was as though his body was transforming — entering a state between man and beast. The very mutation Tirax once theorized — the one locked deep in Saiyan DNA and made much more— was awakening.
But inside Razor's mind, a different battle raged.
The Great Ape lunged at him, claws outstretched. Razor countered, his fist glowing with golden light as he slammed it into the creature's face. The impact sent a shockwave across the void, but the beast didn't even flinched.
"You can't fight me forever!" the voice boomed. "I am your anger, your hatred, your will to destroy! Without me, you're nothing but dust!"
Razor screamed as his energy flared, struggling to resist being consumed. "No! I am much more than that!"
The ape's jaws opened wide, and in one motion, it devoured him. The world went white.
Then — silence.
For a moment, there was nothing. Not even thought.
Then, slowly, the light faded.
Where the Great Ape once stood, there was only emptiness. The beast's eyes dimmed and vanished. The red fur that covered Razor's body began to fade, falling away as motes of dust. His aura dimmed, the crimson black light collapsing into faint embers that flickered weakly before stabilizing into a calm, controlled glow.
Inside his mind, the roar had gone quiet.
The beast was gone — or perhaps, not gone at all, but waiting.
The energy around him faded. His transformation unwound—fur vanishing, aura dimming—until only his scarred body remained. Flesh was torn open in places, exposing bone and muscle. His armor was nothing but dust. Still, his chest rose faintly—he was alive.
He drifted through the remnants of the distorted space, eventually being flung out of the dying vortex into open sky—over a planet unfamiliar to him. He crashed hard, carving a crater into the metallic ground.
For a long moment, there was only silence. Then, distant footsteps echoed—heavy, cautious.
Several figures landed around the crater, their feet kicking up dust. They were Saiyans — or at least, they looked like them. Armored, muscular, with tails swaying behind them. Their battle armor was primitive compared to modern standards, with faint scars and marks carved into them like tribal symbols. And their strength even without any transformation could surpass Razor's even in his Super Saiyan 3 form.
One of them — a tall, broad-shouldered warrior with a scar running across his face — peered down at Razor's broken body.
"He's alive," he said, his voice deep and coarse. "Barely. But alive."
Another warrior, with long hair and sharp eyes, knelt beside Razor and inspected him. "He's not one of ours."
The leader frowned. "Then he's from theirs."
"Should we finish him?" one of them asked.
The leader of the group looked at Razor — the faint, flickering aura of crimson-black still surrounding him. He shook his head. "No. Not yet. He might be useful."
The figure gestured silently. Two others descended into the crater, their movements precise, efficient. They lifted Razor's limp body effortlessly and carried him out.