Age 764

It was midnight, or around midnight, that much Gohan knew. He had been woken up by the sound of someone landing in the front yard. It hadn't taken him much time to realize that the ki belonged to the one and only Vegeta. And then it was followed by another being Bulma's. What made the seven-year-old get out of bed was the sound of footsteps closing in and the sound of the door's lock clicking open.

His parents knew they were coming.

Which made him frown? Why would his parents be waiting for Vegeta and Bulma?

Perhaps it had something to do with the androids, those the mysterious boy had mentioned to his father. Maybe it was some new information, or worse, maybe Bulma was there to tell his dad that the heart medicine wouldn't work. In any case, it was better if he went to check, just as a precaution. Now, by no means, was Gohan a nosy kid or liked to invade his parents' privacy but this time it was different, it felt different.

He lowered his ki until he thought his dad and Vegeta wouldn't notice him, then he silently walked towards the kitchen where the concentration of energy was. He didn't make sounds, actually, he had his ears open for any sort of it, in case his father had heard him or something. As he got closer, he heard the low baritone voice of his father, the rough voice of Vegeta, but only those. Though Gohan was sure that his mother and Bulma were with them.

"...he's a danger to us all," Vegeta finished.

Gohan placed himself in the back of a wall facing back the kitchen door, it was a safe option. If his parents or anyone should discover him, the bathroom was down the hall, so, he could say he was going to the bathroom. Or, if he was feeling daring, sprint to his room.

He maintained silence, waiting for his father to speak.

"No, I don't think he is."

"Are you crazy, Kakarot, this is not the time for sentimental bullshit, power like that-"

Gohan flinched at the harsh language the former prince used, his mother had very strict rules about certain words and there was no way she was going to let this one slide.

"I know, Vegeta, I've felt power like that, and keep your voice down, will ya?"

His father's tone turned foreign. Gohan had never heard him like that-well, that was a lie, he remembered a few times he had talked to him like that. With desperation and yet seriousness all the same.

Who they were talking about? Who was a danger to all? Was it an android? No, his dad had no sentimental strings attached to those things, he hadn't even met them. Could it be the boy? Perhaps, after all, his father seemed to like him. And truth be told, you must be the powerful man in the universe to beat Frieza as easily as he did. His master had to have been the best of the best.

A grunt from the prince was made. "Then you know how dangerous it is. Look at you, a full-blooded adult Saiyan, who had trouble with that surge of power. Wasn't that the reason you abandoned your family? Because you were unstable with that power?"

Gohan frowned. His dad hadn't abandoned them! His dad had done what he could with what he had, and he always looked for the best of his family. And he had told them he was going to come back, he didn't abandon them. How dared Vegeta say such a thing about his father?

"Vegeta, I didn't bring you here to insult Goku," Bulma's voice was finally heard.

"I don't give a fuck why you're here, and I didn't ask you to 'bring' me here, woman. I'm here because Kakarot has a time bomb as a son."

Gohan's face paled. They were talking about him. About his power. It all made sense now. It was true, Gohan was incredibly strong for his age, even he noticed. Wasn't that the reason Mister Piccolo kidnapped him, because of latent abilities? Gohan knew of the power his father talked about, maybe not at such degree as a Super Saiyan but he had felt it. Something resembling a dam inside of him, and waves pushing and pushing onward, facing the dam with ferocity.

Was he a danger to his family?

"Gohan will learn how to control his abilities, Vegeta. He is not a danger to any of us," his father's voice rung again.

"No, you idiot. Your son is the first and only half-Saiyan and half-human hybrid, and no one here has a fucking idea what he can do! For all we know, he can exterminate us in a second if he really willed it. And you're telling me you're okay with this, how much of a clown are you?"

"My son is not a danger, he's just a seven-year-old boy! He doesn't have that kind of power!" His mother scolded.

"Gohan means new things, I agree with you in that Vegeta. But that just means new opportunities."

"For what, destruction?"

"Change."

Another scoff. "You're placing that much trust in your seven-year-old son? I can't believe how idiotic you are. Haven't you taken a look at the past, those who try to change fucking die?"

That's when Gohan heard his dad laugh. Not like he used to, not the energetic and kind laughs his son was used to. This one held more weight, it sounded tired though full of conviction. It was honest.

"Whatever trust I have in my son is not without its reasons. Gohan will learn to master his abilities, he will be of big help for the fights in the future and he will be great."

"I doubt so."

And now, with his cheerful tone, the one Gohan had always heard, his father said. "Gohan has not disappointed me, and I know he won't disappoint me in the future, I believe in him."

Suddenly, Gohan's shoulders felt heavy, heavy with the expectations of his father, who blindly believed in him, with the burden of his latent powers and the weight of the world he was given to protect.

Could he do it? Could he really be who his father thought he could be?

He had already let him down once. Back when Vegeta had come to destroy the world when his father had practically begged his son to fight in his place. But Gohan couldn't, he just couldn't. And his father, with his broken bones and blood spilling from his mouth, had shouted at him. Shouted at him with a tone Gohan hadn't heard before, not from his dad at least.

That was the first time his father had used such anger, desperation and authority in his voice when speaking to him. Gohan doubted it would ever go away from his psyche. His dad had placed his faith in him, and he had let him down.

It would not happen again.

He was going to train so hard, it didn't matter if his bones broke or his body bruised, he was going to show his father his son was not a coward, and that he was every inch who he believed he could be.

"It's just a matter of time before your son dooms us all," Vegeta said. "And I hope to see the look in your face as he breaks down."

Gohan frowned. Not, it wasn't going to happen. He would not doom his family or the Earth. He wasn't going to be a menace. He was going to be a hero just like his dad. He would prove that evil prince wrong, he was going to be so strong, and so powerful that his father would be so proud of him.

Yeah, that's right. His father would be proud of him.

Age 767

Seven days for the tournament to begin. Seven days for the biggest and the hardest battle Gohan and everyone had ever fought. A part of him, a small part in the bottom of his stomach felt excitement at the thought of such a challenge but most of himself felt, well, fear would be the best word.

Gohan was ashamed of being afraid. But he couldn't help it. For a whole year, he had trained for this opponent, and his father thought their mission accomplished, yet Gohan didn't feel at ease unlike the strongest fighter among them. Instead, his son was afraid. Afraid that his strength wasn't going to be enough, that his world would fall.

His dad wasn't though. In fact, he was all the contrary, he was at ease and surprisingly confident of their abilities albeit always ignoring any direct answer to the most important question: can you beat Cell? Gohan didn't know what to think of that. Again, a part of himself was skeptical of his father's confidence but who was he to doubt him? Every time they were in trouble, his dad had saved them. He always had a plan upon his sleeve. Maybe the man wasn't the most intelligent in the world but he was a good fighter and a hell of a strategist.

He was obviously going to save them from this one, too. Gohan could feel it. It would happen. His father would fight that monster and win so easily, or maybe with a struggle but, either way, he would win.

Becoming a Super Saiyan had been such a challenge. Sometimes, the half-breed felt his dad had more confidence in him than himself. He believed in him in ways Gohan never did. He pushed him to great lengths and never did he doubt his son could reach those heights. And now, when Super Saiyan had become a natural state, as natural as breathing, Gohan hoped and wished he could've seen what his father saw when he looked at him. Because his dad looked at him with this weird mix of pride and fiery.

Kindness? Perhaps. The only person that came to the kid's mind that looked at him like that was walking in his direction.

"Hey, Gohan, funny seeing you here!"

The Lookout had become Gohan's second home by now, or maybe third after Kame House. Now more than ever, with Dende now living in it, Gohan wanted to spend more time there. He could teach all that he knew to his new friend, to play with him and to see the world from the perspective of a god.

Trunks had come out of yet another training session. Looking tired, beaten but hopeful. And still with that look, the one of longing and nostalgic pride. Gohan smiled at him pointing at the chess set beside him. "I'm visiting Dende, I'm going to teach him how to play chess!"

Trunks smiled back, his hands on his hips. It was weird to see your mentor, your hero as a child, as a kid. Who lit up when there was any kind of rewards, or who got distracted when inside a boring subject. He knew Gohan was more of an adult than a child but there were still traces of playful childhood in him, this being evidence to it.

He was not the same person who he grew up with. The Gohan he knew had rarely time to smile, let alone play. Always saving the world, fighting and fighting. When he wasn't, he was always pondering on things. What things? Trunks never knew. And now, seeing his mentor as Super Saiyan and smiling at him-it hurt. Why couldn't his Gohan smile at him like that?

With that innocence?

Trunks had yet to see the lips of his hero curve in the smile he gave him in his timeline.

"Do you know how to play?" His voice broke his thoughts.

"Mmh? Oh well, no. I'm afraid I never got time to learn."

Again, that smile.

"Come, sit down, I'll teach ya!"

He was pondering on making up an excuse. What kind of person would want to be in pain on purpose? But he couldn't. He wanted to spend more time with his mentor, even if he wasn't the same person. If he squinted hard enough, he would be able to see him. So, Trunks sat down. Letting the kid place all the pieces in their respective order.

"This is a pawn, and they can move forward one square or two at the beginning but they cannot eat..."

And just like that, Trunks forgot the imminent threat to his past.

After a few hours of playing, and getting bested by a kid, Gohan's mouth spilled the words Trunks had avoided for all his stay.

"How was I in your time?"

Trunks looked up from the board to the kid's teal eyes. They were still young, but not free of the weight. That weight his master had carried with him. It was instilled in him even from such a young age.

"I know I died fighting the Androids and all but how was I?" He pushed.

Trunks felt his mouth and throat dry and his eyes water. If he kept looking at him, he would end up crying.

Master Gohan, I couldn't protect the world. You were wrong. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't save you.

"You were brave, really brave. The only one who would confront the Androids. Also kind, you were always out there trying to help someone in need," he said looking back on his timeline. "And good. You were good."

The kid frowned. "Good?"

"Yeah, good. I don't know how to explain it but you were good. In a world where everything was lost and misery reigned, you were good. Good with everyone you met, good with me."

Truth be told, Trunks didn't want to meet Gohan, he didn't want to taint his vision of his master but he also wanted to spend a bit more time with who he had lost too soon. It didn't matter in the end because this eleven-year-old boy wasn't his Gohan, would never be. It was another version of him. It was weird, he had to admit, it was almost a deconstruction of his hero.

Gohan was not indestructible like he once thought, he wasn't above him either. He was mortal, he was human.

Those eyes, that weight in them. You're carrying the expectations not only of others but of yourself too, right? You were always like that, Master Gohan. Self-sacrificing. It killed you in my timeline.

"Oh," Gohan's eyes shone with pride. "Then, I'll be good here too!"

Trunks smiled melancholically.

What will it do to you in this one?

What are you, a coward?

A coward?

A coward.

Gohan opened his eyes, feeling his heartbeat accelerate and his mind troubled. He found himself looking at a ceiling. He frowned. What was he doing there? What happened?

Then, he remembered. Glen, Videl, that damn dragon and his idiotic plan to go to Vegeta. He groaned internally, he didn't remember much about his trip to Capsule Corps but for what it seemed, it hadn't gone as planned. He sat up in hurry, touching his body to see if he was wearing the same clothes. He wasn't. He went through his pockets and didn't find his phone or his cigarettes.

Fuck.

He looked around, where was he? Facing him was a drawer with a small telescope, some books and a clay figure of himself. It clicked. He was in his room though not his house's room.

He was at Capsule Corps.

Gohan closed his eyes and mentally hit himself, this wasn't going to end or even start well.

The room was of a royal blue color, it's wasn't so full of things, just some. Like a desk and a computer for when he would study at Capsule Corps, a bookstand filled with his favorite books, etc. It was modest compared to the rest of the building except for a hologram galaxy for a ceiling.

He looked at himself, he wore a white t-shirt and he could feel he had shorts. It was nothing like the outfit he was wearing just a few hours ago.

He slumped back on his bed, hoping maybe that if he pondered on his actions, they would all go away. The clock on his nightstand read 3:34 AM but he didn't know what day was it. Probably Sunday given how exhausted he still was.

He heard the knob of the door rotate.

"You're finally awake."

Gohan turned his head to see a fucking prick laying his back on the doorframe with his arms crossed and a smile on his face.

When there was no answer, Vegeta walked towards him closing the door. "Took your sweet time waking up, huh?"

"I don't have the patience nor the energy to dance around your bullshit, so whatever you wanna say, out with it."

"You gave quite the scare to the woman, it's not every day she finds you unconscious in her backyard." His tone was every bit mocking.

Gohan, in his part, groaned. "Bulma found me?"

"No," Vegeta stared at him. "I did."

Gohan forced himself to look at the prince in his eyes. "What?"

Vegeta shrugged. "I woke up by your stupid ki flattening. I followed it until the outsides of West City, where you laid unconscious. Looking like those idiotic human criminals with that stupid headband and smelling of tobacco and anxiety-"

"Since when can you smell people's emotions?"

"-and I brought you to her."

"Fuck!" Gohan exclaimed. "So now she knows?"

He didn't need to specify what was it that she 'knew', he was already fucked and he didn't want to risk saying it out loud to stop himself from digging a huge hole to place himself.

"No."

Now, that did catch Gohan by surprise. He frowned.

The prince said something before he could. "I have to admit I'm curious. Curious to who or what made you break your most inviolable belief."

"Which is?"

"Killing."

Of course.

Of course, nothing would go well for Gohan. He thought the only person who would leave him alone was that damn stupid prince, however, it seems even he wanted to know why Gohan decided to ruthlessly kill criminals. "Why do you care?"

"I don't," that earned a snort from the teen. "But when your shit starts affecting my life, I kinda want to know why."

Silence, in which Gohan looked the other way, he found himself staring at the royal blue wall. Couldn't he get a break?

"How long I've been asleep?"

"It's Tuesday morning. Make the math yourself. Your phone kept ringing, I was going to destroy it but the woman prohibited it."

That made Gohan sit up. Two days? He's been asleep two days? Fuck, he had missed school. And he couldn't miss school or he would lose the scholarship. And what about his mom? What about Goten? What about Videl? What had he done? He had fucking destroyed everything he worked for.

They knew who he was. He was fucking done.

He was done.

His chest constricted. And he felt his breath hitched.

No, no. Out of all the fucking places where you're gonna get a panic attack, it won't be in front of him. Don't you dare look weak in front of him. Don't you fucking dare.

He forced the panic in his belly to stay in his belly by sinking his nails on his palm. So hard that the pain would be worse than the panic.

"You've forgotten I have seen you in worse states. Both physically and mentally," Vegeta observed. His eyes stared at Gohan's chest and hand.

How could he forget? In that room alone Gohan had experienced dozens of panic attacks. On that floor, he had sunk crying while wishing someone put him out of his misery. He had touched those walls as he paced trying to calm himself down. In the bed he was on right now, he had finally found troubled sleep after hours of suffering.

But that was different. He was a kid back then. He had age on his side, or so the adults saw it. Now, he could not take the chance of looking vulnerable. He had to be strong. Especially in front of the man who thought his pride and endurance.

"Why?" He croaked. "Why did you help me? It's not because of justice, you don't give a shit about that. Why then? Simply because I dirtied the amazing life you have built for yourself?"

Vegeta shrugged. "You might've had fooled everyone even yourself, but your cause isn't as noble as you wish it would be. You and I aren't so different."

No.

He was different from him.

Gohan didn't enjoy killing people, he didn't like how their necks broke, how their eyes popped, how they begged for their lives, promised the impossible simply to save their skins. He didn't enjoy that feeling of superiority, of power. To know he was better, stronger than all of them. He hated that feeling.

Right?

He wasn't going to be judged by a genocidal maniac. Out of all people, he would not be judged by him. He would not be judged by anyone.

"I'm not like you. I don't kill for pleasure or enjoyment. I kill out of necessity, and I hate it."

Another shrug. "That's what happens at first, but you'll soon find out you do enjoy it. It's in our nature, after all."

Gohan's anger left as quickly as it came. Bringing a wave of exhaustion. Even if he wanted to stay mad at him, it seemed his body couldn't. How much exhaustion could he have? He had slept for two days and he still felt like shit. He huffed. Glaring at the son of a bitch right in front of him. Hoping that he didn't seem as worn-out as he felt.

Of course, perhaps that didn't matter anymore.

"Is it true, you tried to kill yourself?"

Gohan's glare broke. Now, instead of anger and resentment, there was surprise and confusion. "What?"

"Your phone, I saw the messages of a Glen. For what it seemed, he tried to talk you out of a suicide attempt."

Was that...concern laced in his voice? Gohan was too tired to know really. He groaned. "No. I didn't try to kill myself. He misunderstood. I have thought about it. There's a difference."

He could be blunt with the prince. What did he care? Surely, a man like him must've had thought about suicide at some point. Freezer never struck Gohan as an empathetic guy. Working for him should have been hell.

As long as he didn't try to kill himself, Vegeta wouldn't have any reason to tell his mother or his wife. He saw it as a weakness.

"Years ago, when you came to my father saying I was a threat, you said those who try to change fucking die, how would you know? No offense," he coughed. "But I don't see you as someone who would change anything."

Vegeta's frown deepened. It seemed Gohan had struck a nerve. Good. He didn't have any time for his bullshit, not now.

Then, the prince did something Gohan didn't expect.

He smiled.

"Fine. I will tell you a story about change," he said as he approached the exhausted teen. "Your grandfather, Bardock, was one of the few low-class idiots to interact with important high-ups. He was what every damn soldier wanted to be. Loyal, strong, ruthless and an excellent warrior."

Gohan wrinkled his nose in disgust. "He sounds like an awful man."

"He was a Saiyan. He knew who he was and never tried to be anything else. He knew his place. But he wasn't alone, oh no. Everywhere he went, fucking Riel had to be there. An idiot. Good warrior and merciless commander but too fucking naive. Talked about freedom, revolutions and change. Or that's what I heard from people. I had the luck to have never met him."

Vegeta shrugged. "If I had been king, I would've beheaded him. He was insolent and too impulsive even for our standards. However, he was a good friend of Bardock, I do not know why that idiot. Riel always thought that he could change the universe, and he tried, for a while, that is. Do you know what happened to him?"

"He exploded with your planet?"

"He went mad long before that. I heard a rumor that he took out his squadron when he realized the price of freedom. Turned on his people," then he glared at Gohan. "I wonder how long will it take for you to become that. A fucking danger to everyone simply because want change and yet are not willing to pay the price."

Again, the insults. "I am not like you. Or like he was. I'm not an asshole in search of a good fight. I'm not-"

"-your father?"

Gohan's breathing stopped as he tensed. Why did it always come back to this? His father. Vegeta missed him, that was clear, even if the idiotic prince wouldn't admit it. He missed someone as erratic as he was, maybe even worse than he was.

"To be honest," Vegeta continued. "Your father was no hero. He fought, yes but rarely for the good of the earth. Mostly because he wanted a good opponent. Then, the idiot realized he doomed everyone and tried to correct his mistake. Your father was no different to those criminals you kill, and you know it."

That was enough. Gohan threw himself against him, taking him by surprise and holding onto his collar. He brought him up to his level, panting through his teeth and with a glare that the prince recalled seeing that day of training.

Come on, brat, show me who you truly are.

"What do you know? You're only a genocidal maniac who enjoyed killing, who enjoyed inflicting pain and who was never as important as he was led to believe. Should I tell Trunks about who you were? What would your son think when I tell him, in great detail, about his father, his true father. Would he be able to look at you in the eyes again?"

Unlike his father, Gohan wasn't only good at fighting but he was a good speaker. He had a mastery of words in which he knew when to speak and what words to say, just to inflict more pain.

Vegeta looked straight in his eyes, the rage in them was evident but if he looked just a little bit further, he could see a sparkle, a fire in them, small and slumbered but present nonetheless.

Gohan was enjoying this.

Foolish boy, you're gonna end up the same as Riel. Mad and alone.

"Don't you understand, you fucking brat? You can't change anything! Not before turning into a monster. Want to go against a 'cruel and crooked' system, you gotta play their game. Either give it all or don't. But stop wasting your time and mine, you idiot! Or do you want to end up like Riel?"

Gohan stopped and let go of Vegeta.

The price of freedom. Didn't he already pay that? What more should he give? He didn't ask for this. He didn't ask to be this-this vigilante. All he wanted was peace. What more could he give? What more was needed of him?

The savior of the world.

What a bunch of bullshit. His father was the savior of the world, and he would've gladly accepted that title, the idiot always seemed eager to fight. Peace for him was fighting and fighting and fighting. But not to Gohan. How much did he have to sacrifice before peace came?

The price of freedom. For fuck's sake. Gohan had never had any freedom. Become a fighter because if you don't, then the world is doomed and we will die a gruesome death at the hands of two aliens. Shut up and focus because the battlefield is no place for whining even if you're just five, doesn't matter if you are scared. Become this, become that. Do this, do that.

What freedom?

He internally scoffed. Perhaps he was free, in the end, he became everything he was taught not to be. He had made his choices the day he finally had some control over his life. And this is where it got him.

You're better than me Gohan. You'll turn out to be an amazing person!

I'm not better than you. I will never be.

He was tired. Exhausted more like it. And no amount of sleep would take that from him. He walked away from the man, his shoulders suddenly heavy, his back facing Vegeta as he stared down the floor.

"Fuck off," he whispered. "Or I'll gladly fuck off. Either way, leave me alone."

Vegeta scoffed. His theory was made right. Gohan's anger left as quickly and violently as it came. It wouldn't be enough. The kid was doomed to lose. Pity. Such power is wasted in such being.

"That harpy you call mother and that fucking bounce ball you call brother are two rooms to the left. I'm sure they will visit you first thing in the morning. If I was you, I would make a good lie to justify your actions."

Gohan shrugged. "Why did you help me?"

"Your mother would surely blame me for your actions," Vegeta said indifferently. "And I don't have the fucking patience for that."

That was good enough for him.

"And-and the whole Satan thing?"

Vegeta gave a half-smile. "They're saying the vigilante is seven feet tall, has a death glare and that maybe he's the devil himself. Pathetic humans. You definitely fucked up."

Ignoring that last insult Gohan sighed. He knew he fucked it. No need to say it out loud. Yet, he couldn't help but chuckle at the thought of being demonized. Couldn't they see he was helping them?

No, they couldn't. Because they lacked the perspective for it. To them, the grand savior of the world was a man so cowardly that would rather have his daughter fight his fights instead of actually having to confront them.

The price of freedom. I already paid for it. I will not pay it again.

"Why do you have that stupid headband? What is it for?"

"Why do you care?"

"If you're gonna answer like that, you brat, then I might as well punch you. To teach you to show some respect."

To that, Gohan had no reply. And the room stayed silent for a couple of seconds. He kept staring at the floor as if that would help him get out of the stupid situation he put himself in.

It's just a matter of time before your son dooms us all.

So much for hope.

He wouldn't stop. Gohan would not stop. No matter how many times people like Vegeta told him that what he was searching for, what he was fighting for was meaningless.

What was the point of having power if one could not help those who needed it?

He would endure.

"I need you to promise me something," Gohan said soft-spoken. "And you must not tell anyone."

Vegeta fixed the collar of his shirt and crossed his arms. A frown decorated his face. "What makes you think you're in any position to ask me a favor?"

"If I ever lose control, promise me, you'll kill me. With no hesitation and no fucking doubts. Kill me. If you truly believe I will doom us all, then promise me you'll kill me."

Vegeta was met with the intense stare of charcoal eyes.

He was serious.

For fuck's sake, the kid was serious.

Was this his way of saying 'I give up'? No. Gohan was many things, a fucking pacifist (or used to be), an idiot with great power and an asshole but he wasn't a quitter. Even someone as powerful as Vegeta could see that.

Then, why ask such a thing?

Unless...unless he decided to deem himself a danger.

So, this meant he wasn't going to stop. Not even after the disaster he made. He was going to continue down that path. He was going to kill those criminals and he was going to drag everyone with him.

He was going to play a game without giving anything in return. Fucking asshole. That is not how it worked.

But there he was, the so-called savior of the world, wearing a jacket too big for him, black sweatpants, his hair too disheveled to look sane and a stare so melancholic that made him older than he was. No matter how hard Son Gohan tried, he would always seem like a kid. Vegeta's frown deepened. The kid was a fucking idiot. Playing martyr to a cause no one cared except him.

Then, he heard a crack. Gohan had cracked his shoulder.

Fucking asshole.

The prince hated with all his heart that he was the one who saved him seven years ago. The son of his rival, even after all the hell he had made the then eleven-years old go through, he still sacrificed his arm to save him. And for what? He was way more valuable than the prince.

He hated Gohan.

How fucking annoying it was to hear Trunks always talk about his master. His master was the best warrior he ever saw, his master who always cared about him, who loved him. Fucking hell, it seemed his master was a god itself. It wasn't hard to realize who was his master. The moves the teen showed were fairly similar to those of the child.

Vegeta had despised the fact that it was thanks to Gohan that his son survived all those years.

Thanks to the teenager staring at him, his son was able to defend himself, able to live, able to know at least something about his horrible father. Thanks to that idiot, his son managed to have someone to care about him.

He absolutely abhorred that Gohan decided to sacrifice himself so his son could live.

What a fucking martyr.

If he took out his pride, and perhaps even his dignity, Vegeta knew that the brat at full power would be practically impossible to beat. That was the reason he was so against the idea of letting him live. He was very conscious that if Gohan became insane, he would not be able to hurt him. Let alone kill him.

And the teen knew it too. So, why did he ask such an impossible thing?

Was the promise of a backup plan really that important to him?

His eyes never left his face, but Vegeta could see that with seconds passing they became more and more desperate. Just a few minutes ago, those eyes had looked at him with anger and perhaps a bit of enjoyment but now, they showed him vulnerability.

He was so human, it was sickening. Even when the prince was insulting him left to right, insulting his so idolized father and asking him for a fight, Gohan still managed to be human.

And that was his mistake.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because it's my duty."

Vegeta saw the seriousness in his stare and voice.

That's when he knew he was lost.

Long ago...

"All of this. All of the sacrifices we made, all the lives lost, all the comrades I lost, everything-," he gasped. Coughing blood. It was undignified to have to come to such realization while one was on all fours, blood dripping from his eye and nose. "-everything was a lie."

He looked up to see her. He wanted to hate her. To kill her. She was the reason he was where he was right now. But he couldn't. She looked beautiful. Even if he could only see her with one eye. Amazing and stunning even with the injuries she sustained in battle. They wouldn't hurt her. No. For she looked like an angel, and in a way, she was.

He spat saliva mixed with blood. "They died for a lie."

She knelt until she was at his view. Her hand went slowly to his bleeding cheek. He flinched at her gentle touch. "That's one way to see it."

He chuckled without a trace of humor. "It was a game," he choked. "A cruel fucking game for the entertainment of the gods. And you fucking knew it! It meant it nothing-we mean nothing. It's all a lie. Do you know how many people have died for me to be here? And it is meaningless. It didn't matter. Their deaths don't matter for fuck's sake!"

"It was the only way."

He didn't realize the blood was becoming stained with his tears until the watery red liquid fell on the dirt. "Why me?" Somebody else would've been better, better equipped to handle such news, better equipped to move forward. But why him?

Was it because of his love for the people? His love for mortals?

Was it because of his love for her?

She smiled at him sadly. He had never seen such expression in her before. Didn't think an angel could show such emotion towards a mortal. Why did she smile so melancholically?

"Because it is your duty."

What was the thing he always said?

I will give my life for freedom. For the freedom of the people. I don't care, everyone deserves to live free.

Was he really willing to pay the price of freedom? Of true freedom? The deaths of his friends, of all those who died, would they be in vain? No. They couldn't. They wouldn't. Even if he had to kill the gods. It was the only way. It was a burden he didn't ask for. But it was his now. He was destined to fail, that much could be seen. But he wouldn't go down without a fight. He would fight against destiny itself.

She placed the ring in front of him. Still, in all fours, he contemplated it. Everyone had the right to be free. Everyone was born free. And he was going to make sure they died free. He grabbed the ring.

Was it truly fair? Should he do this?

But if he didn't, then everything was in vain. He couldn't let that happen. He had nothing left, his son was dead, his squadron was dead because of him, and Bardock was kilometres away from him.

What else did he have to lose?

Riel placed the ring on his finger.

His scream was heard throughout the battlefield.