The tank's glass was cool against my palm, smoother than I'd expected, almost inviting. I pressed gently, testing its strength, wanting to feel the boundary between my confinement and the world beyond. My Ki surged, unbidden, a flicker of the raw power I was still learning to control. I hadn't meant to push hard, but the glass gave way with a sickening crack, splintering like brittle ice. The tube exploded outward in a cascade of shards, and the bluish-green fluid surged, carrying me with it. I tumbled out, unceremoniously dumped onto a cold, metallic floor, drenched and disoriented, the remnants of the tank's contents pooling around me.
I coughed, the mask gone, my lungs adjusting to the sharp bite of real air. It was stale, tinged with the scent of dust and rust, nothing like the sterile warmth of the fluid. My body felt heavy, no longer buoyed by the liquid, and I pushed myself up, my hands slipping slightly in the slick mess. I was stark naked, my skin glistening under the dim, flickering lights above. The room was vast, shadowed, and eerily silent, save for the faint hum of machinery in the distance. I stood, my legs steady despite the chaos of my exit, and that's when it hit me: I was tall. *Really* tall.
In my old life, I'd been average—5'9", maybe 5'10" on a good day. Now, as I straightened, I could feel the difference. My perspective was higher, the ceiling closer than it should have been. I glanced at the shattered tank, its base about six feet off the ground, and estimated I was at least 6'4", maybe more. My body wasn't just taller—it was *massive*. My arms were thick with muscle, my chest broad, my legs like tree trunks, and the thing in between it was fucking huge! I flexed my hand, watching the tendons shift under my skin, and felt the raw power coiled within me. This wasn't just a new body; it was a weapon, forged for something greater.
I took a deep breath, centering myself, and reached out with my senses, searching for Ki signatures. In Dragon Ball, Saiyans could sense the energy of others, a skill that came naturally to them. I focused, letting my Ki flow outward, probing the space around me. Nothing. No flicker of life, no pulse of energy. The lab—or whatever this place was—felt abandoned, desolate. I relaxed, but only slightly. The absence of others didn't mean safety, not in a world like this.
---
The room was a cavernous laboratory, its edges swallowed by shadows. Only a few overhead lights flickered, casting weak pools of illumination across the floor. Consoles lined the walls, their screens dark or cracked, covered in a thin layer of dust. Broken equipment littered the space—shattered vials, overturned chairs, a tangle of wires spilling from a gutted panel. This wasn't a place of active research; it was a graveyard of forgotten experiments. My tail twitched behind me, a constant reminder of my new reality, as I stepped carefully over the debris, the glass crunching under my bare feet.
I needed to get my bearings, to understand where I was and what had happened to me. But first, I needed to clean up. The fluid clung to my skin, sticky and uncomfortable, and I felt exposed, vulnerable in my nakedness. I moved through the lab, my eyes adjusting to the dim light, searching for anything useful. A hallway branched off from the main room, its walls lined with more broken equipment. At the end, I found a door labeled "Sanitation." A bathroom, hopefully.
Inside, the room was small but intact. A sink, a tub, a cracked mirror above the counter. I approached the faucet with caution, remembering the tank. My strength was untamed, unpredictable. I twisted the knob gently, barely applying pressure, and was relieved when water flowed without incident. The tub began to fill, the sound of rushing water a strange comfort in the silence. As it filled, I turned to the mirror, steeling myself for what I might see.
The face staring back at me was not my own, yet it was achingly familiar. Sharp, angular features, a strong jaw, piercing eyes that glinted with a mix of determination and intensity. My hair was wild, jet-black, spiking upward in a way that defied gravity. It was a face that could have been carved from the essence of two warriors I knew all too well: Gogeta and Vegito. The resemblance was uncanny, a blend of their fierceness and charisma. My heart raced. This wasn't just a Saiyan body. This was a body born from the legends of Dragon Ball.
The realization hit me like a Kamehameha wave: I was in the Dragon Ball universe. And if this was a lab, abandoned and filled with high-tech equipment, there was only one place it could be. Dr. Gero's laboratory. The mad scientist who created the Androids, Cell, and countless other abominations. The pieces clicked together, and I felt a chill despite the warmth of my new body. I was in one of his labs, and I wasn't here by accident.
---
I stepped into the tub, the warm water washing away the remnants of the fluid. It felt good, grounding, a small act of normalcy in this bizarre new existence. I scrubbed carefully, mindful of my strength, and let my mind wander. If this was Dr. Gero's lab, why was it abandoned? And how had I ended up here, in a body that screamed Saiyan but bore the unmistakable mark of genetic engineering?
Once clean, I searched the bathroom for something to wear. Tucked in a corner was a small storage cabinet, its door hanging off one hinge. Inside, I found a set of clothes—standard issue, by the look of them, likely meant for lab personnel. A black jumpsuit, a pair of boots, and a utility belt. They were comically small for my new frame, but I made do. The jumpsuit stretched tight across my chest and thighs, the sleeves barely reaching my wrists. The boots were a lost cause—my feet were too large—so I went barefoot, my tail swaying awkwardly as I adjusted to the ill-fitting clothes.
I returned to the main lab, my senses sharper now. The air was heavy with the scent of decay—not organic, but mechanical, like rust and burnt circuits. I scanned the room, looking for answers, and my eyes landed on a console in the corner. Its screen glowed faintly, the only active device in the lab. I approached, my heart pounding. If there was information about who I was—or *what* I was—this was my best shot at finding it.
The console was old, its interface clunky but functional. I navigated the system with ease, my enhanced mind processing the menus faster than I ever could have in my old life. Files flashed across the screen—schematics, data logs, experimental records. And then I found it: a folder labeled "Project Genesis." My hands hovered over the keys, a mix of dread and excitement building in my chest. I opened the file.
---
### The Truth of My Creation
The screen filled with data, and my eyes widened as I read. Project Genesis was Dr. Gero's final experiment, a bio-engineered warrior designed to surpass all others. The base DNA came from two sources: Goku and Vegeta, the most powerful Saiyans in the universe. But there was a third component, one that made my blood run cold: Frieza. Gero had combined their genetic material, splicing it with his own enhancements, to create a being of unparalleled strength and potential.
The logs detailed the process. My body had been grown in the tank, a perfect fusion of Saiyan and Arcosian traits. The tail, the Ki, the raw power—it was all engineered, not born. But the project had been deemed a failure. The body showed no signs of brain activity, no spark of consciousness. Gero, frustrated, had abandoned the lab, leaving me to rot in the tank. The final entry was dated years ago, the project written off as a dead end.
I leaned back, my mind reeling. I wasn't a natural Saiyan. I was a construct, a creation of science and madness. But how had I ended up here, my consciousness from another life inhabiting this body? I thought back to the void, the certainty of my death, the strange transition to this new existence. Had some higher power orchestrated this? A god, a cosmic entity, something beyond my understanding? I had no answers, only speculation. Whoever or whatever had brought me here, they'd manipulated events to place my soul in this body, to give me a second chance in a world of warriors.
I closed the file, my hands steady despite the storm in my mind. It didn't matter how I got here. What mattered was what I did next. I was alive, stronger than I'd ever been, with a mind sharper than any blade. This was my chance to live fully, to seize this new life and make it my own.
---
I searched the rest of the lab, hoping for more clues. The place was a wreck, but there were treasures hidden in the chaos. A storage room yielded a set of long dark trenchcoats, wearable, designed for someone closer to my size. I donned it, the coat snug against my frame, the coat would protect me from uncomfortable gazes once I went out of this lab, the coat would provide some cover until I found clothes better suited to me out there.
I found weapons, too—energy rifles, blades, devices I didn't recognize. I left them behind; my body was a weapon now, and my Ki was all I needed. Another room contained food supplies, long expired but still sealed. I wasn't hungry yet, but I noted their location. Survival was my priority, and I didn't know how long I'd be here.
The lab's mainframe held more secrets. I accessed maps, schematics, and logs, piecing together the bigger picture. This was one of Gero's secondary facilities, hidden deep underground, likely on Earth given the references to local geography. The main lab, where the Androids had been created, was elsewhere. This one had been a backup, a place for experiments too risky or too unstable for the primary site. Project Genesis—me—was one of those experiments.
I also found references to the outside world. The logs mentioned Capsule Corporation, the Z Fighters, and even the destruction of the Red Ribbon Army. I was in the timeline before the Android Saga most likely, though the exact date was unclear. The world outside was alive, vibrant, and dangerous. I needed to be ready for it.
---
### A New Resolve
As I stood in the flickering light of the lab, clad in trenchcoat and barefoot, my tail now securely wrapped around my waist just like I remember Vegeta doing from the anime. I felt a surge of purpose. I wasn't just a man anymore, nor was I just a Saiyan. I was something new, a fusion of human will and engineered power. My old life was gone, but its lessons remained, etched into my eidetic memory. I could recall every book, every lecture, every anime episode, and now I had the strength to act on that knowledge.
I thought about Goku and Vegeta, the heroes whose DNA ran through my veins. They'd faced impossible odds, grown stronger through every battle, and never backed down. I could do the same. And Frieza's influence? That was a warning. Power without purpose could corrupt, could destroy. I'd have to be careful, to temper my strength with the humanity I still carried.
I didn't know what awaited me outside this lab. Maybe the Z Fighters, maybe enemies far worse. But I was ready to find out. I'd train, hone my Ki, master this body. I'd learn to fight, to fly, to transform if I could. And I'd live—truly live—in a way I never had before.
I stepped toward the lab's exit, a heavy door sealed with a rusted lock. With a gentle push—careful this time—I broke it open, revealing a dark tunnel stretching upward. The air was cool, carrying the faint scent of earth and freedom. My Ki flared, a beacon in the dark, and I smiled.
This was my new beginning. And I was going to make it count.
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