Parsla giggled in her left hand. In front of her, a small pond of silvery water showed the fainted Nappa and Vegeta kicking him awake.
"Nappa is so funny when he's in shock."
Her smile suddenly vanished and it left her impassive. It was as if her face drained out of emotions and was left in hollow state of feelings. Then, she narrowed the eyes in vexation.
"Hm, it seems I use up my stock of amusement. I wish I had more of it even though it's too scarce to find nowadays."
Parsla was unusual for a Saiyan from the very first time she opened the eyes to the living world. When she was a small baby, she never shed tears, smiled or got upset. It was as if she had no capacity to feel emotions in exchange for high, telltale intelligence. She was aware and self-conscious about her surrounding. She was an easy but disturbing baby for caretakers to look after because of it, for she only yelled out when she was hungry or relieved herself.
One day, she found out that she could harvest the emotion from any of intelligent beings and utilized as hers by chance. It was a nighttime when a baby next to her cried nonstop. She was one hundred fifteen days old and irritated at the cry that disturbed her sleep. She wanted him to shut up and then, suddenly, he did. Then she started to feel what he had felt and knew she took his feeling away from him and made it hers.
She didn't know how it was possible then, though she was doing it out of an instinct for survival when she was old enough to let out of the incubator because she clearly remembered what her parents had said in the shock and disgust about her when they had come to see her growth.
"What's wrong with it?"
"It can't be my spawn!"
She was born with wrong hair and eyes for a pure Saiyan. Or, she became wrong over time according to what they had said.
Her hair had turned stark white, and the eyes had been discolored to yellow that gleamed like a glow of the setting sun in the dark. They had run a genetic testing to make sure she was their child and had confirmed that she was indeed theirs and there was nothing wrong in her gene.
They had rejected her anyway, however. She was too different to blend in her people, so different that her parents had refused to acknowledge her as theirs. Her eyes were too different and aware for them to see nothing more than a heartless monster. Combined with her low power level of which was 27 when she was born, she was obviously to be a low-class warrior and it was unacceptable for low-class warriors that always worked in teams to have any kind of emotional incapability in Saiyan standard.
Her uniqueness had been seen as a sure sign of inferiority and failure. What could they have done more than rejecting her?
Thus, she learned from the rejection and started use others' emotion to survive.
Though she could feel and express in some degree in her terms before she found the ability to harvest emotions. Her emotions were so fainter than what others felt and milder than how others expressed that nobody could understand what her thought was or how she felt. But there had been the chance to develop her own feelings. However, her capability to evoke her own emotion was crippled forever by her attempt to blend in Saiyan society.
Tilting her head to right side Parsla tapped her cheek with the right forefinger.
"Or should I spend some time and grief to mourn my people's death?"
After some thought, she scoffed and shook her head.
"Nah, they don't need it. Most of them are the nasty pieces of work anyway, they must rot in Hell. King Yemma is probably taking care of them by now."
Even though she was the queen of all Saiyans, she was not blind to the fault of her people. In fact, she harboured a healthy dose of contempt for lives they(and herself) led. She knew the reason Saiyans obeyed Frieza's order was to survive, but it didn't excuse the cruel way they did his biddings for their own amusement.
Torturing for the sake of getting information, maiming to inflict fear and take away the enemies' will to fight back, and slaughtering lives to empty out a planet: Those were in their job description. It was not okay, but it was their job.
But they should not have enjoyed them.
They should not have caused the more needless sufferings.
They, including Parsla, had no excuse for the sadistic glee they got from some evil deeds that were for the sake of evil deed.
As a warrior race, Saiyans had the innate thick skin and very realistic view of the world. They did not waver among the hard decisions and were not traumatized as easily as the people of the other races. Practically, mental illnesses were not for Saiyans. In a certain point of view, you could say they were born psychopaths because their mental structure was far from the norms compared to other people's.
But it didn't mean Saiyans had no sympathy. In fact, they had tons of it and Parsla could prove it, for the most of emotions she had harvested in her 28 years' life from her people were the self-loathing and grief. Those emotions were so strong and thick that Saiyan warriors turned them into the anger and hatred almost immediately out of a defense mechanism. If they hadn't done it, if Cold Empire and Frieza's PTO had not trained them to treat those things as weakness to curb, there would have been the many of reports about mess-suicide of the low-class warriors.
She have seen it in the front seat. Even with the defense mechanism which came from the training, Saiyans became more self-destructive and more addicted to violence over time.
It was the mass-hysteria.
Frieza's rule had made a mental illness for Saiyans.
He completely ruined the chance for her people to become something better and greater.
Therefore, not however, all of the Saiyans had no excuse. They did not make their excuse to impart to anyone, even to Yemma, and could not allow themselves to be pardoned in any shape or form. Some of them were too far gone and completely lost.
Perhaps, it was a divine mercy in disguise of doom for Saiyans. She sure felt that way, and she knew they too would have because their emotions were hers to keep for ever and ever, in the Non-space between life and death.
"I have to train in the mystic arts more, I have nothing else to do otherwise."
Parsla looked around her, the Non-space between life and death. She knew why she was trapped here but didn't know why she knew herself to be trapped wherever here was. Her strange, innate foresight and knowledge provided almost everything she wanted to know and nothing of the cause of those things.
She was trapped because she didn't belong to the living world nor the world beyond the death. The system of universe couldn't process her death for an unknown reason and crashed, leaving her in the state of undeath. She could train, rest, collect the emotions that haunted this place and do some magic. But she couldn't sleep, eat or leave the place permanently.
Well, at least, the knowledge of various mystic arts would be useful just as it gave her means to talk with her surviving son. Actually, she would suffer the eternal hunger, since she could not digest any kind of food in this place even if she could make foods out of thin air, unless she found the way to feed herself in any form or shape in the knowledge of the mystic arts. She had a vague idea feeding off emotions and a method to weave the spell for it.
She'd better hurry, for the hunger was a Saiyan's oldest and biggest enemy.