Dragonball 1/2

Chapter 27: Looking to the Future

The gravity chamber hummed with energy as Vegeta's form flickered between male and female. Muscles tensed, sweat beaded on her brow. She gritted her teeth, pushing against the limits of her new body.

"Not... enough," she growled.

Her ki flared, a brilliant aura engulfing her as she forced the transformation. For a moment, her original form solidified - broad shoulders, chiseled jaw. Then it slipped away, leaving her gasping.

Vegeta stumbled, bracing herself against the wall. Her chest heaved as she gulped air.

"Damn this weak form," she muttered.

Her gaze drifted across the room, landing on two framed photographs. She froze.

There she was - her old self, arms crossed, scowling at the camera. Beside it, a newer image. Same pose, but softer features. A ghost of a smile.

Vegeta's fists clenched. "Who am I becoming?"

She strode to the photos, snatching up the older one. Her grip tightened, threatening to shatter the frame.

"I am the Prince of all Saiyans," she snarled. "This... this is who I'm meant to be."

But her eyes were drawn to the other photo. The smile tugged at something deep inside her.

Vegeta set the frames down gently. She stared at her reflection in the polished floor, searching for answers in eyes that were both familiar and strange.

"Perhaps..." she whispered, "there's strength in change."

---

Vegeta's eyes darted between the photographs, her jaw clenching. The stark contrast was undeniable. In one, a hardened warrior glared back, every line etched with pride and fury. The other... softer, yet no less intense. A hint of vulnerability lurked beneath the surface.

"Tch," she scoffed, but her hand trembled as she touched the newer image.

Her mind raced, grappling with conflicting emotions. "The last of the Saiyans," she murmured, her voice barely audible. "Our legacy..."

Her fingers drifted to her stomach, resting there as her brow furrowed. The weight of generations pressed down on her shoulders.

"Father," she whispered, "what would you say if you could see me now?"

She paced, each step deliberate. "Our people, reduced to... this." Her lip curled, but there was pain behind the sneer. "And yet..."

Vegeta's gaze snapped back to the photographs. "Perhaps this is how we survive. How we..." She swallowed hard. "...thrive."

Her hand clenched into a fist against her abdomen. "I am still Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyans," she growled. "No matter what form I take."

---

Vegeta's eyes blazed with inner fire, her steps quickening as she stalked across the room. "Damn it all," she snarled, her voice a mixture of frustration and anguish. "Is this what I've become? A vessel for preservation?"

She whirled, her fist connecting with the wall. The impact echoed through the room, matching the turmoil in her heart. "I am a warrior!" she roared, her chest heaving. "Not some... broodmare."

But even as the words left her lips, a flicker of doubt crossed her face. She resumed her pacing, each step more agitated than the last.

"And yet," Vegeta muttered, her voice dropping to a low growl, "what good is pride if our race dies with me?"

She paused, her gaze fixed on some distant point. "Kakarot," she spat the name, a mixture of rivalry and grudging respect coloring her tone. "Even you couldn't fight this battle for me."