Electricity surrounded Cui as he narrowly dodged Nappa's blurring fist. Gritting his teeth, he did his best to ignore the strain of keeping up with Nappa's lightning-fast movements.
The air crackled with static, the sharp scent of ozone mixing with the acrid smell of singed flesh. Pain blurred his vision, and his skin bore vivid, raw burn marks. Every now and then, his arms twitched and spasmed uncontrollably.
He hadn't expected this battle to be challenging, not when Nappa's power level was a mere 13,000 to his 19,000. In fact, he had initially intended to toy with Nappa, flaunting his superiority until the Saiyan became desperate and hopeless. He had envisioned a final, crushing display of strength that would bring Nappa to his knees, leaving him broken and humiliated for Vegeta to witness. Then, Cui would execute Nappa in front of Vegeta, demonstrating the ultimate form of dominance.
At least, that was the plan. Now, however, it was clear that things were not going as planned.
In fact, nothing had gone according to plan. From the first clash of fists, it became clear to Cui that this was a different kind of battle, and he was up against a different kind of Nappa. He could feel the difference with every fiber of his being. His usual tactics of intimidation and provocation were useless here, as Nappa would not respond to anything.
Nappa's usual bombastic style and colorful commentary had vanished. There were no taunts, no mocking insults—only an unsettling silence and a relentless, methodical pursuit of Cui's death.
It was fucking eerie.
Case in point, Nappa had not spoken.
Not. Even. Once.
Now, throughout his tenure in the Frieza Force, Cui had faced plenty of people with murderous intent and had even adapted to thrive within this chaotic whirlpool of violence. He was no stranger to bloodlust, but even he had to admit that never before had he faced someone so singularly fixated on killing him.
A chill ran down Cui's spine at the thought. It didn't feel like he was fighting a person at all, but rather a machine—an unfeeling, cybernetic entity executing a pre-programmed algorithm for murder. After all, would a person just accept a hole blasted through them just to close in on their target? Would they willingly allow their arms to be broken just to land a punch? Then after all that, would they pick themselves up off the ground and carry on as if these gruesome injuries didn't even exist?
Were these the actions of a rational being?
Cui instinctively tilted his head to avoid an incoming blow, feeling Nappa's fist narrowly whizz past his head. In a blur of motion, he seized the offending arm and forcefully hurled Nappa downward with all his might. Moments later, he winced, feeling both the shock from the electricity coursing through his arm and the disturbing realization that Nappa had attacked him with the broken arm.
Down below, Nappa somersaulted in mid-air and landed firmly on his feet, causing the ground to quake under the force of his impact. The bald Saiyan was visibly wounded, with blood, cuts, and burns marring his flesh. One of his arms hung at an unnaturally twisted angle.
After landing, Nappa abruptly froze in place, standing stiffly with his back turned to his opponent. This unexpected pause in the midst of battle left Cui disoriented, as he had been bracing for another onslaught. He didn't understand what was happening, but the respite offered him a much-needed breather.
Cui watched as Nappa looked down at his hands and flexed them, almost as if seeing them for the first time. He scowled at the gesture, interpreting it as an insult. He refused to be mocked by Nappa! His pride flared, and with a raised hand, Cui unleashed a powerful blast—a searing beam of energy aimed directly at Nappa's vulnerable back.
To his shock, Nappa didn't blitz away. Instead, without even looking back, Nappa casually repositioned himself by turning his body. The energy blast streaked past him and struck the ground, causing a powerful explosion. The earth trembled and debris blew around Nappa's figure, but he remained unruffled, his focus still seemingly fixed inward.
Gradually, the dust settled.
Cui's heart pounded in his chest as he made eye contact with Nappa. The Saiyan's stare remained blank and vacant, just as it had been throughout the entire battle.
Cui's breath caught in his throat as the electrical aura surrounding Nappa began to intensify, casting an eerie glow over his muscular frame. The air vibrated with this surge of power, a tangible force that Cui could feel against his skin despite the distance between them. His scouter beeped urgently, the digital readout flickering to life and promptly relaying him with information.
His eyes widened in disbelief at the readings. Nappa's power level was rising! How?! He watched with dread as the numbers on the scouter climbed higher and higher.
13 thousand... 15 thousand... 16 thousand... Each digit felt like a heavy blow to Cui's already frayed nerves. Finally, the reading settled around mid-17 thousand.
Cui's heart sank.
This was impossible. He had already been pushing his limits against Nappa's stunning physical might, but now adding to it such a substantial increase in power smack in the middle of their fight?
He just doesn't understand how this was possible! Nappa was no special mutant like Jeice, so there was no way in hell Nappa could manipulate or increase his energy output at will! Was Nappa holding back the entire time? If that were true, then what about...
Cui's eyes flicked to Vegeta, who returned his look with crossed arms and calm indifference. Suddenly, a sinking feeling settled in Cui's stomach. Vegeta's static power level of 18,000 still displayed on Cui's scouter now appeared to mock him.
He... wasn't going to make it out of this alive, was he?
Cui could sense the chilling presence of the Shinigami's scythe resting against his neck. And was that a flash of pink hair?
However, Cui's brief glance at Vegeta proved costly. When he snapped his head back toward Nappa after registering movement through his peripheral vision, the Saiyan had already vanished from his sight. Panic and adrenaline surged through him. Losing track of Nappa was bad.
Instinctively, he dashed backward at full speed, hoping that some distance would allow him to regain visual of his enemy. His eyes scanned frantically, every muscle tense and poised for the inevitable attack.
It made a fuck all worth of difference.
Moments later, Nappa's massive fist buried itself into Cui's stomach, causing him to cough up blood. Cui was rather certain that something inside him had been broken, something he would have preferred to keep intact.
In a desperate attempt to defend himself, he fired a beam in front of him, only to find that Nappa had already disappeared.
Cui's eyes darted around, scanning the area for any trace of his attacker. Panic set in as he found nothing but empty space.
Suddenly, another fist slammed into his chin from below, snapping his head backward and launching him skyward. Before the stars could even appear in his vision, a foot descended like a guillotine, crushing his sternum and sending him hurtling toward the ground.
But Cui didn't even have the luxury of landing on the ground. Before he could make contact, Nappa intercepted him mid-air with a thunderous blow, sending him in a different direction. What ensued was a bloody barrage. Time and again, Nappa hammered him, each strike more devastating than the last.
Onward and onward, the assault continued unabated, each blow fracturing bone and tearing muscle. The endless combo of attacks culminated in a devastating strike that nearly shattered every bone in his chest, finally sending him plummeting to the ground.
He crashed with a sickening thud, creating a deep crater upon impact. Cui gasped for air, struggling against the sensation of drowning in his own blood. Every inch of his body screamed in agony, leaving him paralyzed and helpless, unable to move a muscle, vision clouded and dimming. He had long lost track of the number of broken bones. It might be easier, he suspected, to count how many bones might still be intact.
With a crash, Nappa landed before him. The two stared at each other, one standing victoriously and the other crumpled in defeat, their roles reversed from what either might have anticipated at the start of their battle.
Witnessing his foe defeated, Nappa's once vacant and ruthless eyes softened, the bloodthirsty aura cloaking him gradually dissipating. Silently, the General of Blood retreated within Nappa, its duty fulfilled. Nappa's eyes flickered, a fleeting hint of life sparking from within. The Saiyan general drew a deep breath, shuddering as if cold water had been poured down his back.
After taking a moment to collect himself from the unexpected wounds, Nappa looked down at Cui with a complicated expression.
"How was my defensive mechanism of an alter ego?"
"F–fucking hated him…" Cui wheezed, his voice barely audible. Faced with the grim inevitability of his demise at Nappa's hands, he resorted to humor, perhaps to quell the fear within.
Nappa smiled humorlessly. The Saiyan warrior raised his hand slowly, his expression focused. After an uncomfortably prolonged pause, a spinning sawblade of light materialized in his grasp—his reward for his intense practice since his defeat on Earth.
"W-wait, wait, Nappa, remember that one time I brought you a cookie? That was a real cookie!" Cui "pleaded" with his enemy.
"I remember. That cookie made me shit myself for four hours."
"Hahaha–cough–! Vegeta was pissed at you for missing Zarbon's important meeting, but Raditz and I got in a good laugh." Cui managed to grin despite his injuries, "I think I might still have some on my ship…"
"Screw you and your goddamn cookies."
Cui's bloody lips curved into a final defiant smile, a cocky facsimile of courage. "I've a–always fucking hated you."
"…me too," Nappa replied quietly, though there was no hint of regret in his voice.
No more words were exchanged after that. Nappa's arm swung down, releasing the spinning sawblade of energy. The lethal attack sliced through the air with a sharp whine, and in an instant, it severed Cui's neck, forever separating his head from his body.
Silence settled over the battlefield as Cui's lifeless body stilled. Nappa remained standing, his expression inscrutable as he stared down at the remains of his fallen opponent. In the quiet aftermath, Nappa sensed rather than heard the approach of another presence. Moments later, Vegeta's voice shattered the silence.
"My father once told me the General of Blood was to be feared. He said there were no doubts of his might, no end to his ruthlessness, and no questions of his authority, not even from those stronger than him," Vegeta paused, his footsteps halting just behind Nappa. "I've always thought it to be an exaggeration, based on what I knew of you. I see now that they were not."
Nappa turned slowly with a smile filled with both physical and emotional anguish. He met Vegeta's gaze but remained silent.
"I can see why your reputation was spread far and wide in the history and memories of our people," Vegeta continued. "If that's who you were, then I can respect that."
Nappa subtly shook his head. Memories of the Tuffle War flashed before his eyes, a tapestry of bloodshed and destruction that had irrevocably changed the course of his life.
In those days, Nappa had been a different man—a young, naïve, and idealistic academy trainer who believed in diplomacy and fairness as much as he did strength. He had mentored countless young Saiyans, instilling in them not only combat skills but also the ideals of honor and duty.
But everything had changed when the war began. His wife, his students, his academy—all had been ripped away from him by the fires of war and his own failure. He had never been the same after that.
"I don't want to be him, Vegeta," Nappa confessed. "He was merely a construct I created to cope with my failures, an escape from the world that allowed me to avoid confronting my pain, that's all. His existence was a testament to my weakness. There's no honor there, nothing to be proud of."
Vegeta began to speak but abruptly closed his mouth. Before him, Nappa stared down at his hands, which trembled slightly as the Saiyan General grappled with pent-up emotions that had festered for decades. Observing this, Vegeta opted to stand silently.
"If only I had known how to control and focus my energy like this back then! I could've—could've..." Nappa's voice wavered with regret and anguish, burdened by the weight of decades-old grief. "I could've made a difference against those pieces of shit Tuffles during that battle! I could've protected her—!"
Tears welled up in Nappa's eyes, causing his vision to blur, yet they stubbornly remained unshed. With a heavy heart, Nappa slumped to the ground, his formidable frame folding inward.
"You know the thing, Vegeta? The bitch of it all was that Cui was right. I was too weak back then and too much of a coward to confront the reality afterward. For over 30 years, I've been running away…"
Nappa's breaths became strained, each inhale sharp and ragged as if he struggled to pull air into his lungs. His face contorted with agony, a lifetime of suppressed memories and wonderful dreams clawing their way to the forefront of his mind like specters.
Nappa's breathing quickened, and he began to tremble uncontrollably.
"Breathe, Nappa," Vegeta said sharply from a few paces away, but Nappa seemed to be oblivious to his surroundings.
Vegeta frowned, recognizing the severity of Nappa's state, and closed the distance with a few purposeful steps. He spoke again, firmer this time, "At ease, soldier."
Still, Nappa remained unresponsive, his distant gaze fixed on some unseen horror replaying in the depths of his mind.
"Nappa, Commander General of Saiyan Forces, at attention!"
Despite wrestling with the ghosts of his past, Nappa's ingrained discipline as a soldier asserted itself. Even seated on the ground, his back instinctively straightened, almost ramrod.
Pulled from the dark recesses of his mind, Nappa began to calm down, taking deep breaths to steady himself. He sensed Vegeta silently move to stand beside him, a pillar of support. A hand rested on his shoulder.
In that position—Vegeta standing, Nappa seated—they stared into the distance. They remained in this stance for a while, affording Nappa the time he needed to re-shackle his demons.
Eventually, Vegeta sighed, withdrawing his hand from Nappa's shoulder.
"That was a war. There was nothing you could have done."
Nappa nodded slowly. He recognized these words as empty reassurances since Vegeta was born just a year or two after the war's end. But given that he could not change the past, he accepted them nonetheless.
"Thank, Vegeta," Nappa said after a final deep breath. "Sorry, you had to see this side of me again."
Vegeta scoffed dismissively, arms crossed.
"Don't know what you're talking about. I saw nothing."
After a brief pause, Vegeta spoke again, his tone carrying a hint of contemplation, "Do you know Nappa, that you are the reason Kakarot is still alive?"
"…what?" Nappa was bewildered.
"When I faced him as an Oozaru, he also had a panic attack. Broke down right in front of me after I transformed, just like you did earlier. I stayed my hand partly because, at that moment, he reminded me of you."
"Heh, Kakarot owes me one then," Nappa muttered, his eyes drifting to a small crevice on the ground, where his blood pooled slowly. His gaze held a distant sadness, tinged with a resigned acceptance. "Looks like everyone has their burdens. Maybe that's the curse of us Saiyans and those associated with us."
Suddenly, Nappa perked up as if his head had received some kind of signal, like an antenna.
"Associated with us? Wait. Oh shit! Where the hell is Alpha?! I completely forgot about him!"
"Oh, I thought he was dead," came Vegeta's immediate and uncaring reply.
"Fuck! We left him back on Earth! Kakarot is going to merc his ass!"
Vegeta rolled his eyes at Nappa's sudden panic. "Kakarot couldn't 'merc' a baby goat if you put one in front of him."
"Well, to be fair, if you just put one in front of me with no context, I probably wouldn't either."
"Shut the hell up, Nappa," Vegeta snapped, though his tone held a hint of amusement.
Nappa shut up immediately.
Glancing over at Nappa, Vegeta noticed a slight easing in his subordinate's posture. Though some lingering melancholy remained, sliding into the easy and familiar banter had seemed to restore a semblance of normalcy.
Satisfied that Nappa had settled down, Vegeta cleared his throat deliberately, drawing Nappa's attention back to him.
"While you were fighting, I focused on expanding my Ki Sense. I did manage to detect something, but at one point during your battle, all those energy signatures vanished. If they were killed, the attack that took them out wouldn't have escaped my notice."
Nappa absorbed this information with a nod, his brow creasing slightly as he considered the implications.
"So, either the Namekians or someone else, intervened somehow," Nappa concluded. "Frieza would be just as blind as we are, then."
"Yes. This is not entirely disadvantageous because we too can evade the scouters. Meanwhile, Frieza and the grunts will be completely exposed to us," Vegeta started to stride away, his movements purposeful. "Let's go. We have much to do, starting with finding you a healing pod."