Scene 1: Birth of Subject O707 – The Lab of the Gods

  Inside the Abyss of Creation

  The research facility was a place where morality had no meaning—a sterile, metallic fortress, where the only goal was perfection. Inside, endless rows of stasis pods lined the walls, filled with half-formed creatures, mutant Saiyans, and failed abominations, their bodies twitching as if screaming in agony. Some had extra limbs, others no eyes, no skin—just muscle and bone, kept alive by cruel experiments.

  The air was cold, filled with the hum of machines and the low, painful moans of the failed experiments that weren’t even granted death. Everything smelled like blood, chemicals, and something rotten.

  A group of scientists, draped in long, white coats stained with dried fluids, stood over a newborn child encased in an incubation pod—Subject O707. His small, fragile body was hooked up to wires, his golden tail twitching under the artificial light. He was calm, unlike the other failures. That’s what made him unique. He was stable.

  Standing before them was Kai, no older than six, his sharp crimson eyes staring at the newborn with curiosity.

  Kai (soft, hopeful): "Is this my brother? Will he be strong, Papa?"

  The head scientist, Dr. Veylon, glanced at Kai. He was a tall, gaunt man with hollow eyes, his voice void of emotion.

  Dr. Veylon (cold, factual): "Yes... but not like you." He motioned to the screen, which displayed Dai’s genetic profile. "This one carries only 23% of your DNA. He is a tool—nothing more. Don’t get attached. He was created to serve."

  Kai’s small fists clenched. He didn’t care about potential. He only cared that Dai was his brother.

  A faint cry echoed from deeper within the lab, followed by a scream—another failed experiment being dissected while still alive.

  Kai ignored it. He was used to it.

  Dai’s Story: "Subject 0707"**

  —The Laboratory of Shattered Minds—

  ---

  Part 1: The Cradle of Broken Promises

  Scene 1: Dai’s First Memory

  Dai’s earliest memory was the taste of blood and the sound of screaming. Not his own—hers.

  He was four years old, strapped to a cold metal table in Room 47, a "behavioral correction" chamber. The walls were lined with needles, syringes, and holographic projectors flickering images of smiling scientists. Beside him, a girl with matted blonde hair, Lyna (Subject 088), thrashed against her restraints as Dr. Syra injected a neon-blue serum into her neck

  The fluorescent lights of Room 47 buzzed like angry wasps, casting jagged shadows over Lyna’s contorted face. Her blonde hair, matted with sweat and vomit, clung to her cheeks as Dr. Syra tightened the restraints around her spindly arms. The serum’s neon-blue tendrils snaked beneath her skin, lighting her veins like poisoned rivers.

  Lyna (whispering, desperate):

  “I—I am nothing. My blood belongs to the Lab. My screams are h-hymns to the Scien—”

  Her voice shattered into a guttural wail as the seizure seized her. Her spine arched violently, snapping ribs against the table. Blood foamed at her lips, her fingers clawing grooves into the metal until her nails splintered. The scientists didn’t flinch. Dr. Syra adjusted her glasses, tapping notes onto a holographic pad.

  Dr. Syra (monotone):

  “Subject 088’s neural degradation at 87%. Proceeding with termination protocol after this session.”

  Dai, strapped to the adjacent table, turned his head just enough to see Lyna’s eyes—wide, pleading, alive. Her gaze locked onto his, a silent scream louder than the machines. He wanted to reach out, to whisper “Hold on,” but his tongue felt like lead. Fear paralyzed him. Fear of the needles, fear of becoming her.

  Dai (internally):

  Don’t look. Don’t feel. Just… recite.

  When the seizure ended, Lyna’s body slumped, her breath ragged and wet. Dr. Syra turned to Dai, syringe glinting.

  Dr. Syra:

  “Your turn, 0707. Recite.”

  Dai’s voice was robotic, perfected through countless repetitions:

  “I am nothing. My blood belongs to the Lab. My screams are hymns to the Science Divine.”

  The scientists nodded, indifferent. No shocks today.

  In the corner, Kai watched from the shadows, his crimson eyes unblinking. He noted Dai’s trembling hands, the way his golden tail coiled tightly around his leg. Weakness, he thought. But as Lyna’s cot was wheeled out, her tiny hand dangling lifelessly, Kai’s jaw twitched—a flicker of something even he couldn’t name.

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  Scene 2: A Day in the Abyss – Dai’s Descent

  4:00 AM:

  The neural collar jolted Dai awake, electricity searing his throat. Around him, children stumbled from their cots, vacant-eyed and swaying. Breakfast was a putrid gray slurry. Miko (Subject 132), his hands sewn backwards, dribbled the sludge down his chin as he whispered to Dai:

  Miko (hoarse):

  “Last night… I saw a star. Real. Not a hologram.”

  Dai didn’t believe him, but he nodded. Belief was the only currency here.

  5:00 AM – Chapel of Devotion:

  They knelt beneath a hologram of Director Kruhl, his third eye pulsing. A boy two rows ahead—Jonn (Subject 211)—suddenly screamed:

  “NO MORE! WE’RE NOT YOUR CLAY!”

  The Purging Tanks hissed open. Jonn’s legs dissolved first, bones jutting from frothing pink acid. He was still screaming when they sealed the tank.

  Dr. Bibo (smiling):

  “Who else wishes to sing?”

  The children chanted louder:

  “Our flesh is your clay. Our pain is your art.”

  12:00 PM – Combat Trials:

  Dai faced Grakk (Subject 665), a hulking mutant with serrated teeth and breath reeking of rot. Grakk’s fist cracked Dai’s ribs, but Dai fought dirty—biting, scratching, surviving. When Grakk pinned him, Dai spat blood in his eye.

  Grakk (growling):

  “You’ll die squealing, golden-tail.”

  Dai’s power flared—230k, 235k—but Grakk slammed him into the wall. The scientists marked his failure.

  8:00 PM – Nightly Conditioning:

  The speakers oozed a lullaby:

  “You are nothing… nothing… nothing…”

  Dai curled under his thin blanket, clutching a stolen screwdriver. In the cot beside him, Nara (Subject 444) hummed a melody, her voice trembling.

  Nara (whispering):

  “Imagine a garden, Dai. With red flowers. Like… like Kael’s hair.”

  He closed his eyes. For a moment, he almost smelled soil instead of antiseptic.

  Scene 3: Kai’s Crucible – The God of Nothing

  Genocide Drill #407:

  Kai stood on the observation deck, watching a lab-grown city bustle below. Families. Laughter. A girl with pigtails skipped, clutching a doll.

  Dr. Vorn:

  “Initiate purge.”

  Kai raised his palm. Energy pooled, cold and precise. The city erupted into plasma. The girl’s doll spun in the ash.

  Dr. Vorn (recording):

  “Subject 001’s emotional response: null. Proceeding to Phase Two.”

  They brought in the clone—a mirror of Dai, down to the golden tail. It begged in Dai’s voice:

  “Brother… please.”

  Kai vaporized it.

  Kai (to Dr. Vorn):

  “Flawed replication. His power level was 9.2% inaccurate.”

  The scientists exchanged uneasy glances. Perfection unsettled even them.

  Scene 4: Love in the Dark – Mutants’ Requiem

  In the lower labs, where the air reeked of decaying flesh, two mutants met in secret. Zara (Subject 777), her wings mangled from failed flight experiments, and Tarn (Subject 812), whose skin shimmered with unstable energy.

  Zara (touching his face):

  “Your light… it’s warmer than the sun.”

  Tarn (smiling sadly):

  “It’ll kill me. You know that.”

  They stole moments between tortures—a brush of hands, a whispered promise. But Dr. Syra found them.

  Dr. Syra (laughing):

  “How quaint. Let’s test if love survives fission.”

  Tarn was strapped to an energy core, Zara forced to watch as his body destabilized.

  Tarn (screaming):

  “ZARA, CLOSE YOUR EYES! DON’T LOOK—”

  He exploded. Zara’s wings burned to stumps. They left her in the dark, cradling his melted pendant.

  Scene 5: The Super Saiyan Crucible – Dai’s Breaking Point

  Stage 1 – Gravity Crush:

  400x gravity flattened Dai like a bug. His femur snapped, piercing his thigh. He choked on blood, vision blurring.

  Stage 2 – Memory Flood:

  Holograms forced him to relive Lyna’s death, Nara melting into bio-fuel, Kael’s lobotomized giggle.

  Dai (screaming):

  “STOP! I’LL BE GOOD! I’LL OBEY!”

  Stage 3 – Kai’s Threat:

  Dr. Vorn’s sneer filled the chamber.

  “Fail, and Kai burns next.”

  Ai: failed power level 157k

  Dai’s muscles tore, golden aura flickering… then dying.

  Dr. Vorn (spitting):

  “Worthless. Prepare Kai’s chamber.”

  In the observation room, Kai watched Dai’s limp body dragged away. His fists clenched—defectively.

  Scene 6: Escape – Blood and Starlight

  Chaos erupted as mutants rampaged. Dai hesitated when a young scientist begged for mercy.

  Scientist (sobbing):

  “I have a daughter! Please!”

  Dai (trembling):

  “...Run. Don’t look b—”

  Kai’s energy blade decapitated the man mid-sentence.

  Kai (coldly):

  “Sentiment breeds betrayal.”

  In the halls, brainwashed children—once friends—attacked. Miko, now a drooling zealot, screeched:

  “TRAITORS MUST BURN!”

  Dai paralyzed him with a nerve strike, tears streaming.

  Dai (whispering):

  “I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

  The escape pod jettisoned as the lab imploded. Dai clutched Kael’s shiv, her etched “RUN” digging into his palm.

  Dai (vowing silently):

  I’ll find your garden, Nara. Even if it’s just in my head.

  Kai studied the stars, already planning. Freedom was a variable. Nothing more.

  End of File: Subject 0707

  Continuation: The Pod’s Descent – Asraioth Kingdom

  Scene 7: Between Blood and Stars

  The escape pod shuddered violently as it tore through Asraioth’s atmosphere, its hull groaning under the strain. Inside, the air reeked of burnt wiring and the metallic tang of Dai’s blood, still dripping from a gash on his temple. Kai sat rigid in the pilot’s seat, his eyes fixed on the navigation screen, fingers flying over cracked controls. Dai huddled in the corner, clutching Kael’s shiv like a talisman, his golden tail twitching with every alarm blare.

  Dai (hoarse, trembling):

  “Will they… find us here?”

  Kai (without looking up):

  “Irrelevant. Survival probability increases by 38% on populated planets.”

  A proximity alert flashed—APPROACHING ASAILOTH CAPITAL: VALKARA CITY. The pod’s cracked viewport flickered to life, revealing a planet unlike any Dai had imagined. Asraioth glowed like an emerald, its surface veined with shimmering rivers and sprawling cities of obsidian spires. Massive orbital rings encircled the planet, humming with starships adorned in gold and crimson sigils. This wasn’t the feral Saiyan squalor from lab holos; this was a civilization.

  Dai (gasping):

  “It’s… beautiful.”

  Kai (flatly):

  “Aesthetic value: negligible. Shields are down. Prepare for impact.”

  The pod lurched, throwing Dai against the wall. Through the viewport, Valkara City rose—a labyrinth of tiered pyramids and floating gardens, where Saiyans in embroidered robes bartered in open-air markets. Children with tails chased energy orbs above streets paved with polished jade.

  Kai (muttering):

  “Primitive social hierarchy. Elite-class banners on the eastern quadrant.”

  Dai barely heard him. His eyes locked on a Saiyan girl laughing in a plaza, her tail coiled around a ribbon. Free. The sight made his chest ache.

  Scene 8: The Landing – Strangers in a Savage Eden

  The pod crashed into a docking bay, skidding across polished stone until it slammed into a marble statue of a Saiyan warlord. Steam hissed from the ruptured engine as the hatch creaked open. Dai stumbled out first, his boots sinking into manicured grass that smelled impossibly sweet. Above, twin suns bathed the city in amber light, and the air thrummed with the buzz of hovercraft and distant sparring matches.

  Kai (scanning the area):

  “No immediate hostiles. Power levels detected: 900k to 2.3 million. Proceed with caution.”

  Before Dai could reply, armored boots clanked. Six Saiyan guards descended, their armor etched with the crest of a phoenix clutching a moon—House Vyrkalion, the planet’s ruling elite. Their leader, a towering woman with a scarred lip and a plasma glaive, eyed the boys with a mix of suspicion and amusement.

  Guard Commander Vara (barking):

  “State your lineage and purpose. Now.”

  Dai opened his mouth, but Kai stepped forward, his voice ice.

  Kai:

  “We have no lineage. Our pod malfunctioned.”

  The guards stiffened. A young recruit, his tail ringed with gold, snorted.

  Recruit (mocking):

  “Orphans? Or runts dumped by their clan?”

  Vara raised a hand, silencing him. Her gaze lingered on Dai’s tail—a rare gold—and the lab’s numeric brand burned into Kai’s wrist.

  Vara (narrowing her eyes):

  “No Saiyan ‘malfunctions’ this close to Valkara. You reek of offworld filth.”

  Dai’s knees buckled. The weight of it all—Kael’s shiv, Kruhl’s severed head in the pod, the hope of this place—collapsed into a whisper.

  Dai (pleading):

  “Please… don’t send us back.”

  Vara paused. For a heartbeat, her stern mask slipped, revealing something almost… pity. Then she nodded to her squad.

  Vara:

  “Take them to the Citadel. Lord Vyrkalion decides their fate.”

  As the guards seized them, Dai glanced back at the smoldering pod. Inside, Kruhl’s dead eyes stared, his frozen grin a relic of the hell they’d escaped. Ahead, Valkara’s spires pierced

  the clouds, a kingdom of warriors and whispers.

  Kai (leaning close to Dai, barely audible):

  “Trust nothing. This world devours weakness.”

  But Dai wasn’t listening. He inhaled the scent of alien flowers, felt the suns’ warmth on his skin, and for the first time, dared to hope.