Vegeta kept his energy low as he landed back at the RRA compound. In the sunlight, it looked much different. The cold, off-white concrete was much more degraded than he remembered, and litter and debris rolled aimlessly around the surrounding buildings and hills. A crow let out a long, lone squawk—like a warning to turn back—and flew off into the blue sky. Vegeta ignored it and pressed on.

It took him no time to find the door Bulla had destroyed. Bulla. Their exchange had been playing on repeat in his head since he had left her crying in the air. He had seen plenty of people cry—women, children, grown men—and as their tears fell, he usually felt a twisted sense of joy. But not her. When she cried it was like someone had plunged a knife in his gut and turned it painstakingly slow.

He hated it. He hated feeling this way. Bulma made him feel so vulnerable and exposed, and now his daughter was having the same effect. It was as if they could see this part of him he had desperately tried to hide.

Flying through the air, he was determined to find somewhere else to go, but he was caged in a prison of his own making. Coming to Earth had been a risk and Vegeta and Nappa knew that, but never in his wildest dreams did he anticipate it trapping him like this. Rage and shame consumed him, and the sudden urge to blow something up bubbled in his chest.

He considered going back home before deciding to pay Gero a visit.

Home, he thought to himself. I consider Capsule Corp. home, don't I?

He shook his head. His pride was already wounded by the fact that he liked Capsule Corp. Confusion swirled in him near constantly, a white hot instinct to pull away but an insatiable hunger to stay. Those feelings had to be true in the future, too, because as much as he tried to ignore it, the reality was blindingly clear.

The Vegeta of the future fathered a child with an Earth woman—with Bulma—without knowing the androids would come. He fought beside the Z Fighters of the future to defend the planet and he died doing so. Destiny was stronger than his desire to hold on to the diminishing pieces of his brutality.

Gero's role in this story had no effect on Vegeta's choices on Earth, but he was the catalyst that forced Vegeta to accept them.

As he stared at the blown out door, he realized he had no plan of attack. Gero was an odd foil to Kakarot, and Vegeta couldn't help but draw the parallels from Gero to Frieza. He had a lot of time to think about Gero in the time chamber, and while his motivations seemed straightforward, Vegeta wondered if there was much more depth to his plight. This whole situation wasn't born solely of Gero's hatred for Kakarot, it came from a much deeper place—a place that started fermenting long before the RRA.

Walking toward the door, he debated going inside. That's when he saw the trail of blood heading down the corridor. Red droplets snaked around the dark, dingy hallway leading to the lab, illuminated only by a few bare lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling that buzzed on and off. The heels of his boots clicked along the floor as Vegeta made no attempt to conceal himself.

He wasn't sure what he expected when he saw the lab—something more like Bulma's, he thought, cringing at the fact he knew that lab so well—but what he did see most certainly didn't fit the bill. It looked as though a tornado had run through it. Books covered the floor, papers were ripped and in several parts of the room, shards of glass glistened on the surrounding surfaces. A wave of sulfur and chemicals hit Vegeta's nose and he winced.

Hunched over a desk was Gero, blood coating the arm of his off-white lab coat. His grey hair was slicked back in it as well. Beside him was a mound of gause and tincture bottles. Clearly he had tried to fix whatever glaring wound was afflicting him, but he had given up. For a man who so relentlessly pursued Kakarot, he sure was giving up easily on himself. Cocking his head, Gero looked at Vegeta and let out a crazed laugh.

"If you've come to kill me," Gero wheezed. "I will take that fate with pleasure."

"Well then, it's your lucky day," Vegeta responded.

Slowly, he made his way to the desk and stood next to it. Gero was bleeding so badly his skin had become grey. The blood coating his jacket was fresh, but he couldn't see exactly where he was wounded. He suspected it was Cell's work.

"Did your creation turn on you, Gero?" Vegeta said, a slight smile forming on his face. "I thought you made him so that wouldn't happen."

Gero let out a low laugh and propped himself up to turn to face Vegeta. The last few days had aged him. His leathery, pocked skin was spotted in his own blood and dark circles encased his sunken eyes. Pity eked out of Vegeta, but not enough for him to abandon his desire to destroy. As Gero steadied himself, he inhaled a ragged breath.

"So tell me, Vegeta." He coughed as he spoke, his body buckling under the loss of blood. "Why did you come here?"

Crossing his arms over his chest, Vegeta let his eyes wander around the room. The overwhelming smell of blood hit his nose. He didn't like it down here. It was dark and dusty, and it reminded him of the bowels of Frieza's old spaceship where the prisoners were held. But here there was an earthy smell that reminded Vegeta he was underground and not in the depths of space.

"To tell you the truth, Gero, I do not know," Vegeta sighed. "I thought maybe it was to kill you, but I see I am late to the party."

"Hah," Gero groaned. "Indeed you are."

"So it was Cell then?" Vegeta's eyes pierced Gero.

Gero hung his head and let out a low laugh. "Who else would it be?"

Gero pushed himself back, leaning onto the chair. Their eyes fully met, a bubbling intensity behind both. A loose wire clicked with surging electricity and a hot spark let off overhead, the smell of burning metal swirling in the air.

"I assume since you knew where my hideout was that you also know what happened to my lab," Gero said. "Even before Cell came to kill me it had been ransacked. Did you find what you were looking for?"

Once again, Gero's life work had been reduced to rubble. The past few days had been a series of misfortunes: The androids disobeying him was expected, but Cell turning his back on his master felt treacherous. His beloved creation—his feat of science—was supposed to aid Gero in destroying Goku, not leave him to bleed out.

After watching Cell absorb 18 at Capsule Corp., he felt an inconceivable sense of pride. Finally his dream had come to its realization. When he returned to the lab and found it had been breached, he couldn't even muster a sense of worry. It wasn't until Cell followed a few hours later with a new disposition that the joy he felt was washed away. Even the best laid plans could fail.

Gero had been surveying the damage when Cell appeared in his doorway. Bookshelves and desks went flying as Cell increased his power, sending a reverberating wave of force that roared through the laboratory. Cell's face had a devious smile splayed across it, his eyes focused like lasers. The sound of shattering glass rang out through the room, and while Gero was terrified, he did not cower. Using just his index and middle fingers, Cell punctured Gero's right arm, whispering in his ear before he left that he wanted him to die slowly.

Now a new enemy stood before him, one he knew liked to play with his food.

"I did come here," Vegeta said. "But I didn't enter this place. It was my daughter who did."

"Really?" Gero laughed. "After watching you all these years, I didn't take you as the fatherly type."

"I'm not," Vegeta replied. Gero saw the shift of Vegeta's eyes and he realized he was bothered by his daughter, yet proud of her at the same time. His mind wandered back to that day in the rain with the androids, of the girl who knocked him out and dragged him away from the battlefield.

"That blue haired girl," he said slowly. "She is your daughter, isn't she?"

Vegeta nodded his head and Gero let out a little laugh.

"Curious," he pondered. "She wouldn't happen to be related to Dr. Briefs, would she?"

"That's her grandfather," Vegeta replied, curiosity getting the better of him. "You know him?"

"I knew I recognized her," Gero said. "Looked just like his daughter, what was her name again?"

"Bulma." Saying her name sent a shiver down Vegeta's spine. He didn't like that Gero now had it—it felt like it should only belong to him. Gero shifted in his seat, nodding his head.

"Ah yes," Gero said. "Bulma. I was always envious of Dr. Briefs, you know. A brilliant man who always seemed to just dance through life, never a care in the world. He found a beautiful wife, had beautiful children, built an empire with an aggressively long and impressive portfolio of gadgets."

"What are you getting at?" Vegeta hissed.

"You're lucky, Vegeta," Gero said. "You sure know how to interlope yourself with impressive people."

Vegeta stood silently, letting the old man finish his speech.

"I, on the other hand," Gero sighed. "I had the head, I just didn't have the heart."

"How introspective of you," Vegeta replied.

"I started out good. I started with a good heart." Gero looked on the brink of tears. "I got greedy and I changed. I know that now."

"If you're looking for my pity, I'll have you know you won't receive it," Vegeta hissed. "I've destroyed men like you for crimes less abhorrent. Some I just killed for sport."

He moved even closer to Gero, looming over him like a dark, twisted tower. Gero half expected Vegeta to laugh at his admission, but instead he looked cold and unforgiving.

"Your daughter, does she know?" Gero asked. "Does she know the blood shed at your hands?"

"Some of it, yes," Vegeta said. "She takes after me in many ways, and her dogged determination is one of them. Bloodlust, apparently, wasn't an inherited trait."

"Interesting." Gero suddenly winced in pain, clutching his arm. Vegeta starred.

"But she gets her bleeding heart from her mother," Vegeta continued. "Perhaps if she were here you might stand a chance to be saved."

Gero's eyes glazed over Vegeta, his breaths becoming shallow.

"I don't want to be saved, Vegeta." Gero gripped his arm and Vegeta could see blood was still draining. "I want to die."

"You won't live for very much longer," Vegeta said. "Whether I end it right now or not."

"I know," Gero said, his voice calm and clear. "Are you going to tell me I deserve it?"

"You already know the answer to that."

"I want to hear you say it."

Yes, Gero did deserve to die. All of the pain he inflicted on the world was unforgivable. For so many years, Vegeta preyed on the innocent. Now that he had an opportunity to execute someone who truly deserved it, he was hesitating. Vegeta pursed his lips. Expressionless, Gero shook his head.

"You can't say it, can you?" Gero said. "I've been watching you for a long time, Vegeta—since you arrived here on Earth. You can't tell me I deserve it because that would make you a hypocrite."

"In some ways you're right," Vegeta said. "I won't deny the things I've done."

"Is that why you came to see me?" Gero asked. "To resolve yourself of sin? To take a life for good reason so you can sleep at night ignoring those innocent people you killed? Is that what you tell your daughter? Is that what you tell Bulma?"

Vegeta didn't respond.

"Why did Cell turn on you?"

"Why does any creation turn on its master," he said. "I was arrogant enough to believe that I had made the perfect weapons. But for them to do my bidding, I needed to give them the power to be. They tasted freedom and they all desired more—even Cell."

He stood up from the chair, bracing himself on the table, before walking toward one of the capsules the androids were kept. His fingers ran gingerly across the metal surface, caressing the smoothness and coldness of it. Left behind was a smear of blood.

"Despite it, I..." Gero said in a hushed voice. "I don't regret it."

"Even if Cell defeats us, you won't live to see it," Vegeta said.

"It doesn't matter," Gero said.

Vegeta shook his head.

"It's a shame, Gero." Vegeta reached out to touch a hanging wire that buzzed a few inches from his head. "You wasted such brilliance on a futile plan."

Turning his back to Gero, he walked toward the lab's entrance. Before he crossed the threshold out into the corridor, he stopped.

"My daughter found your journal," Vegeta said. "And she's going to use it to defeat Cell. I can promise you that."

Darkness enveloped Vegeta as he moved forward into the hallway, the flickering lights above barely casting a shadow. Gero didn't have a chance to respond before Vegeta ascended the stairs, walked out of the ruins and back onto the grassy knoll. Leaping into the air, he flew high above the building where Gero's lab was and stared at it for a while.

Once a great empire, the RRA compound was nothing more than a crumbling shadow. How many lives had been taken at the hands of the RRA and their cronies? How many had died this week at the hands of Gero? For the first time in his life, a flicker of regret sunk into him. After all the lives he had taken, who was he to cast judgement? But here he was, seething at the indignation of Gero's revenge and longing to be the one to end it.

Outstretching his arm, Vegeta formed a single ki blast and launched it into the building. Flames roared as it connected and smoke billowed out. He unleashed another and another, pummeling each of the dilapidated structures that peppered the clearing of the deep woods, until they were engulfed in a sea of dust and ash.

"It's time to go home," Vegeta said to himself.