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He was a prince. He wasn't supposed to feel like this. He shouldn't feel jealousy and hatred. He shouldn't feel like he was overshadowed, looked down upon.

And yet, here he was, not even being acknowledged by the enemy. He'd been toyed with by the enemy's spawn, and he was just barely holding his own. Why couldn't he have the glory for once? What was so bad about the universe letting him win?

Why did all the best foes only want Goku?

Kakarot…always, it was about Kakarot. Kakarot was the strongest. Kakarot was the hero. And while Vegeta didnt much care about the latter, the fact that everyone considered Vegeta second best to that clown stung fiercely.

And now, the clown had the nerve to go and sacrifice himself. Was it so difficult for them to find some other way? Did Kakarot have to die? It took a minute for the realization to hit the Saiyan Prince; he was the only one left. The only one of full blood.

He was the sole survivor of his race.

He was in shock. He felt numb, worn out, dry. Like his whole world had just crumpled.

And it would get worse.

He felt it a second too late; that horrible energy signal, that power that he'd allowed to be birthed...it was back. It was back, and it was stronger. Cell had returned, and Kakarot had died for nothing.

He felt it too late.

His mind had barely registered the intense heat from the blast that whizzed by him before he heard the unmistakable sound of flesh being pierced, and a loud cry of sharp pain. And the voice it belonged to...he knew it too well. He knew it because for two years, that voice was the only one he heard besides his own.

He didn't want to look. He shouldn't have looked. He looked, and he saw his son's body convulsing on the ground, and he saw the giant hole in his chest, and he saw Trunks cough up blood.

Everything has been taken from me. Everyone I love dies. I can't have a single companion who isn't put in danger. My home, my parents, my honor, my rival, my son!

Why my son? Was it not enough that I had to suffer my own death? Was it not enough that the last of my kind killed himself while I sat back and watched, helpless? Was it not enough that I, whose destiny it was to be the strongest, had to endure worthless cretins surpassing me left and right? Did they have to take my son too?

Frieza…this is your fault. Were it not for you, I'd still have my home, and my family. I would be king. I would be the strongest. I would have a child that I was not determined to be ashamed of. I would have a child that would rebel against me instead of spending his hours trying to get my approval. He wouldn't be dead –

This is Cell's fault. It killed my son. It came back when it wasn't welcome. It shot blindly through the smoke, it attacked Trunks! –

It's my fault.

No more. I won't take this lying down! I refuse to allow this act to go unpunished! This cowardly attack is unacceptable! Take my life if you will; I don't fear death, but not my son!

And all these thoughts flooded through his head in a split second, and he wanted to shout them to the world, but all that came out when he opened his mouth was a horrible enraged scream.

He was a prince. He wasn't supposed to feel like this.