"Wake up."
A finger twitched. A eyelid flickered.
Wearily, a man felt life pour back into his veins, like a corpse being pumped with the essence of the living.
He gasped, but gagged as liquid filled his mouth the moment he opened it. Wherever he was, there was fluid surrounding him. His eyes refused to open, as though his eyelids lacked the strength to lift themselves. Perhaps, he thought, he was drowning.
His mind frantically searched for answers, scouring through any available memories to explain what was happening, but the search came up fruitless. The man's brain was a mess of senses and distorted images, none of which made any kind of sense, all scrambled and meaningless.
"...Perhaps I held him in the incubator for too long."
There was that voice again. The man could hear it better now.
It was familiar. It was rough and strained, a half-cough present with his speech. The man felt like he had heard the voice hundreds of times before, and then some. It soothed him.
"Broly." the voice muttered dryly. "Today is the day. You will not fail me."
The man recognized that name.
It was his name.
The memories started to flow back, little by little. That name was his, of that he was certain of. There couldn't be a mistake.
He heard the incubator begin to sizzle and crackle, with the liquid around him beginning to move. Broly wanted to open his eyes and see who was talking to him, but the incubator roared and purred, interrupting his train of thought. With a groan and a muffled growl, he tried to move his arms and legs, yet they felt limp and dead, not even a finger could budge.
The liquid began to tickle him. He could feel bubbles slowly arise as the machine holding him started to do something, this purring of the incubator also was beginning to feel familiar.
Then something shot through his whole body.
He screamed underwater, feeling fire and fury build up in his chest. His eyes wouldn't open but he gurgled and cried, hoping that the voice would open up the machine and help him. His wish wouldn't be answered.
Something incredible was pulsating inside him, sizzling and burning in his veins, pumping an energy that was overwhelming. He could feel every last fiber in his body heating up and shaking. His senses gradually started to get stronger and stronger until his skin could feel the fluid he was swimming in and its movement, and the bubbles that were rising up stung with their force.
Power. It was all power.
Unrestricted. Unchained. Unfettered.
It felt like he was going to burst. There was an implosion waiting to happen, only through sheer will was Broly able to hold it and bay, not allowing any of it to escape.
The incubator made one last noise. The sound of flowing water rushed past Broly's ears, sliding down until it became distant. A door opened in front of him, allowing the liquid to be free, and Broly could breathe again.
With a desperate gasp, Broly sucked in air at last, filling his lungs with oxygen. The amount of relief that he felt was staggering. His body was dried of the liquid almost immediately as a powerful gush of air was thrust against him. Instinctively, he shivered, but he didn't really feel the cold. He knew he should've, but it was as though the cold meant nothing to him.
Finally able to move his hands and feet, he began to feel around, sensing chains that had been unlocked. He had been strapped into the incubator all this time.
His eyes opened, then stung. He growled, closed them, and waited.
When he opened them again, the sting didn't feel as bad. There were blinding lights all around, but he did his best not to look directly at them. Instead, he glared at the man standing right in front of him.
Bare naked and confused, he slid out of the incubator and stood on his two feet. His blood still boiled in his veins, pimping hot and intense.
The man standing in front of him was an old, bitter-looking person. He was bearded and scarred, with his extremely sharp eyes staring back.
"Who are you to kill?" the man asked.
Broly frowned.
He understood the language that the man was speaking, but didn't know what he was talking about all the same. All he wanted were answers, he was still disoriented and confused, no memories besides his name to depend on.
"I said," the man muttered as he tapped a small button on his wrist.
Broly took a step back.
"...who are you to kill?"
He noticed something had been wrapped around his neck this entire time. It began to grow hot, burning right against Broly's skin. He staggered and tried to pull it off, but the necklace somehow only grew tighter with each tug.
"I..." Broly gasped, his mouth dry and his voice a whisper. "I...!"
Vegeta.
Broly's eyes widened. A soft voice in the back of his mind spoke. His neck strained, his thoughts muddled, he couldn't understand what he was feeling.
Vegeta.
Broly shook his head, feeling the last ounce of his self control being lost in the wind. His hands gradually balled up into fists.
The old man raised his voice.
"Who are you to kill?!"
Power shot through Broly once more, energizing and heating up the blood pumping through his veins.
His muscles expanded, his eyes illuminated in a faint glow, aura swarmed around him, crackling and shuddering. He could feel an endless stream of potential swimming inside of his soul, just waiting to be challenged, and he couldn't contain it for a second longer. With his head raised up, he glared at the sky and screamed in a howl that filled each and every inch of the halls.
"VEGETA!"