🌌 Saiyan of the Red Dawn
Chapter 3 – Awakening of Purpose
(Part 1)
Days blended into nights inside the gravity chamber.
Kael lost track of how many times he collapsed, how often Nappa's gruff voice dragged him back to consciousness. The process was agony, but it was also the first time in this life he felt clarity.
No more sterile isolation. No more half-existence behind observation glass.
Now, every hour was a test.
And every test brought him closer to who he was meant to become.
On the seventh day, Nappa called for a brief reprieve.
A team of technicians entered, wheeling in a crate of rations and replacement armor.
Kael straightened from his crouch, chest rising and falling in ragged breaths. Sweat matted the red fur along his arms and back.
Nappa regarded him with a critical eye.
"Stand tall," he ordered.
Kael obeyed.
"Report," the general continued.
Kael tilted his head, puzzled.
Nappa's lip twitched. "When a superior officer asks for your report, you answer. What is your state?"
Kael swallowed, voice rough. "Tired. Hungry. Ready."
The general's grin returned. "Better."
He gestured to a technician. "Armor."
The crate hissed open, revealing a set of custom battle armor plates sized to Kael's developing frame. Dark navy blue with reinforced gold pauldrons, designed to accommodate the dense fur and tail.
Kael regarded it in silence.
"Put it on," Nappa instructed.
He did so without complaint. The technicians helped secure the fittings, adjusting each clasp and seal. When it was done, Kael flexed experimentally, testing the range of movement.
He felt…complete.
Like a true warrior.
When the others withdrew, Nappa stepped closer, lowering his voice.
"You learn faster than any Saiyan I've trained," he admitted.
Kael met his gaze without flinching.
"But strength alone isn't enough," Nappa continued. "You need purpose. A reason to fight."
Kael considered that.
He thought of the emptiness that had defined his first life. The loneliness. The yearning for something more than conquest or survival.
And he realized, in that moment, that he did have a purpose:
He would never again be powerless.
He would grow so strong that no one could cage him—not even the king.
Before he could reply, an alarm chimed over the intercom.
King Vegeta's voice echoed through hidden speakers:
"Bring the boy to the war council chamber."
Nappa's brow furrowed. "The council? He's barely begun formal training."
"Now," the king snapped.
Nappa clenched his jaw.
"Follow me," he growled, turning on his heel.
The war council chamber was a place Kael had only glimpsed on the monitors: a vast hexagonal space lined with holographic displays, flanked by long tables where the highest-ranking strategists and generals convened.
Today, the chamber was filled.
Elite warriors in polished armor stood at rigid attention. Projection screens flickered with star maps and power readings.
King Vegeta stood at the central dais, cape spilling around his boots. His scouter glowed a sullen red as he watched Kael approach.
Nappa stopped at the base of the dais and dropped to one knee.
"Your Majesty."
Kael remained standing, golden eyes fixed unblinking on the king.
Murmurs rippled among the gathered Saiyans.
"Arrogant little beast," someone whispered.
"He doesn't even kneel…"
King Vegeta raised one hand, and silence fell like a blade.
"Leave us," he commanded.
One by one, the councilors filed out. Nappa hesitated, but the king gestured sharply.
When the last door sealed, the king finally descended the steps to stand face-to-face with Kael.
"You understand why you're here?" he asked.
Kael didn't look away. "To fight."
"That is part of it," Vegeta allowed. "But not the heart of it."
He paced a slow circle around Kael, studying him as one might inspect an experimental weapon.
"You were born an anomaly," the king continued. "Power beyond what any child should possess. Uncontrolled, you could destroy this world as easily as you breathe."
Kael's hands curled into fists. He did not deny it.
"But you could also be the key to something greater."
The king stopped before him, voice dropping lower.
"Frieza grows restless," he murmured. "He watches us more closely each year. My father was a fool to trust his 'alliance.'"
Kael frowned. Even as a child, he knew that name—Frieza. The tyrant who held the Saiyan race on a chain.
King Vegeta's gaze hardened.
"One day, he will decide we are too dangerous to exist," the king went on. "When that day comes, I intend to be ready."
He leaned in until their foreheads nearly touched.
"You are my contingency."
Kael felt something tighten in his chest—some mix of pride and revulsion.
He understood.
He was no longer merely an outcast.
He was a weapon.