Why It Sucks to Be Born as a SAIYAN

As soon as you come into the world, you're taken from your mother and placed in an incubator. There is no time for her to raise you. She's sent back to work immediately.

Parenthood doesn't really exist in a Saiyan society, especially amongst low-class warriors. Your parents don't care about you. Not because they are cruel, but because they've been taught not to.

For them, you're just another soldier. There is even a good chance you'll never see them again. As a Saiyan, you don't belong to your family.

You belong to the army. The moment you're placed in the incubator, your fate is in their hands. The army runs tests to figure out your power level.

That number decides everything about your future. If your power level is very low, you might be one of the lucky few to escape the warrior life. You would be given to the non-fighters to be raised for simple tasks.

Cleaning, cooking, or building. It's not much of a life, but it's safe. And peaceful.

That's more than what most Saiyans get. If your power level is decent enough, you might be sent off to a distant planet as part of the king's new program. They've started sending babies to conquer worlds on their own.

The idea is simple. If the child succeeds, the Saiyans gain a new planet. If not, it's no big loss.

But the program almost never works. For most Saiyans, though, a high enough power level means only one thing. You'll be raised as a low-class warrior.

You'll grow up in one of the army's thousands of incubators, surrounded by others just like you. When you're old enough, they'll take you out and put you in basic classes. Education is still a new idea for the Saiyans.

It's not something they value on their own. The only reason they teach you to read and count is because King Kold's forces require it. They want you to know how to fly their ships, read their commands, and use their technology.

Your indoctrination begins early. You are taught to take pride in destruction. To see the erasure of entire planets and races as a noble duty.

A cornerstone for Saiyan pride. But even amidst the harsh discipline and brainwashing, these early days are ironically some of the best of your life. But these lessons don't last long.

As soon as you can read basic instructions, that's where they teach you what being a Saiyan is really about. Training is hard. As soon as you learn to control your energy, they teach you some basic Saiyan techniques like the garlic gun.

At first, it feels exciting, like you're tapping into something greater. But then they start pairing you up with kids your age for fights. Brutal, no-holds-barred, last-man-standing matches.

Tournaments are organized all the time. They say it's to train the next generation of warriors. But really, it feels like a show.

Something for the older soldiers to bet on. When they decide you're ready, you move to the second part of your training. That's when things start to get very bad.

You are introduced to the Saibamen. Vicious, plant-like creatures that were found in one of King Kold's conquered planets. The Saiyans use them for war, but also for this.

. . training.

Your task is simple. Fight them. These things are so strong.

Far stronger than you. The first time you fight, you barely stand a chance. You get beat into the ground over and over again.

And every time you think you might die, they drag you back from the brink just to throw you into the next fight. The trainers know that your small, fragile body isn't a match for the Saibamen. But that's the point.

They want you to experience what they call a Zinkai boost. Saiyans get stronger after surviving near-death experiences, so they push you to the edge over and over again. It's painful.

It's humiliating. But they tell you that this is what it means to be a Saiyan. Some of your cameras don't make it.

They die during training, but no one mourns them. Instead, the trainers tell you that there is no greater honor than dying for strength. It's twisted, but you cling to the idea.

It's the only thing that makes the pain feel worth it. Spoiler, it's not. When you've survived long enough, it's time for the final part of your training.

You're going to learn to control the Saiyan's most powerful weapon, the Ozaru. To do this, the trainers create artificial moons to force your transformation into a great ape. They tell you to focus and try to control it.

That's it. No real technique, no instructions. There is no real method to controlling this power.

It's different for everyone. You're thrown into this for weeks, spending more time in your transformed state than your normal form. The transformations leave you exhausted.

You're barely yourself anymore, just a tool they're sharpening for war. If you're lucky or unlucky, eventually, you begin to understand how to control the form. At least enough to follow orders when transformed.

Mastery is rare, something only the truly skilled can achieve. For you, a low-class fighter, this is as far as you'll go. It's enough to keep you alive on the battlefield, and that's all they expect of you.

And now you're ready. Ready to fulfill the destiny they've drilled into your head since birth. Ready to fight, to conquer, and to kill.

Whether you actually want it or not, that doesn't matter. You're a Saiyan, and this is your purpose. Your training years were hard, but somehow, you've forgotten most of the pain and suffering.

Now you're preparing for your first mission, and your focus has shifted to the future. If it's anything like the adults described, it might even be acceptable. You're not exactly thrilled about the idea of wiping out entire species, but at least you'll be free.

Free to explore the universe, and to fight exciting battles. Because, at the end of the day, you're a Saiyan. You can't deny that fighting brings you a certain thrill.

But you were so wrong. The life of a Saiyan warrior is miserable. When you were a kid, they told you stories of Saiyan glory.

Of how they were the strongest race in the universe. How conquering planets was as easy as flipping a switch. How entire civilizations crumbled before them.

Those were all lies. Conquering planets is a grueling work. Many have powerful armies willing to fight for the last breath.

Others have advanced technologies or secret weapons that gives them a massive edge. Some use magic or strange abilities that are impossible to predict. And some planets even have their own teams of superheroes protecting them.

Heroes who are often stronger than you. Since Frieza took over the cult force, now called the Frieza force, things have only gotten worse. He only sent Saiyans to the planets with the highest power level.

Claiming it's because Saiyans are his strongest warriors. But some whisper that it's because Frieza despises the Saiyans, and want to see them suffer. More often than not, conquering a planet takes multiple attempts.

Each time you come back injured, and barely alive. The fights aren't even thrilling. They are chaos.

Pure chaos. And when you do win, that's when the real horror begins. You're expected to wipe out everyone.

Families. Children. Without any hesitation.

It's heartbreaking. At least for you. The others don't seem to care.

Maybe they're just hiding it. Or maybe you are different. Every victory feels hallow.

You don't even get to claim spoils, or enjoy rewards. Everything goes to Frieza. For a low-class warrior like you, there is no salary.

Just scraps you managed to scavenge during the chaos. This is your life for years. No rest.

No peace. You spend more time injured and broken than whole. After every mission, you're rushed to the medical pod to heal.

Only to be sent out again as soon as you're fit to fight. You start craving the pods. Despite the pain, it's the only time you feel at peace.

But it's during these moments of solitude, floating in that strange liquid, that a thought takes root. A thought that you can't shake. You can't keep living like this.

After all these years, the exhaustion has reached a point where it's unbearable. You need to find a way out. At first, you consider escaping.

Just leaving it all behind. But it doesn't take long for reality to crush that idea. Frieza's scouters track every movement.

And with the reputation the Saiyans have across the galaxy, there is nowhere safe for you to go. Even if you could evade capture, you'd be constantly hunted. And then, there is the pride.

Saiyan pride. You spend your entire life rejecting the propaganda. Mocking it in your head.

Seeing it for the tool of manipulation it is. But deep down, that pride still lingers. The thought of running away feel like an unbearable shame.

Even if you hate the life they forced on you, escaping like a coward isn't an option. What you really want is revenge. Revenge on Frieza, the one responsible for the endless pain and suffering of your people.

And revenge on Prince Vegeta, who stands on the top and does nothing to help those below him. He benefits from the system as much as Frieza does. And he's just as guilty.

For the first time in your life, you see things clearly. The Saiyan condition isn't just painful. It's unacceptable.

You've been fed lies from the day you were born. Your purpose as a Saiyan isn't to fight and conquer. It's to rise above this.

It's to do something about it. So you start to speak. Carefully and quietly.

You talk to people you trust. At least a little. You've heard stories about Saiyans who rebelled.

Who refused to stay in the line, only to disappear without a trace. So you trade lightly. Choosing your words and your audience with care.

You tell your cameras that this life isn't fair. That the pain and suffering, the endless battles, should at least come with a reward. That even if they enjoy destroying planets, shouldn't they at least claim the spoils?

Shouldn't they have the right to live with dignity? Not as tools for someone else's empire? You remind them of the shared experiences.

Of battles where you stood together, bleeding and broken. Of how some of the weakest races you've conquered managed to resist just by working together. Of how some of them chose to die at your hands rather than live as slaves for Frieza.

You ask why Saiyans, with all their pride, don't do the same. You tell them that there is nothing more honorable, nothing more glorious than toppling the ruler of the galaxy himself. To prove that Saiyans are more than just pawns in someone else's game.

And that's when the harshest truth of all hits you. The worst thing about your condition isn't the forced battles or the constant pain. It is not the evil you're made to do or the innocent lives you destroy.

It's not even the fact that you receive nothing in return. No, the worst thing about your condition is the others. It's that everyone around you accepts it.

The true tragedy of your life is not Frieza's cruelty or the Saiyan's government's submission. It's the ignorance, the false consciousness of your people. They have bought into the lies so deeply that they don't even see the chains around their necks.

You spend months trying to find others like you. Those who refuse to let their destiny be directed by Frieza. Who want something more than this life of endless battles and misery.

For a long time, it feels hopeless. Most of the Saiyans you approach are too entrenched in the lies to even consider your words. But then, one day, you find them.

It starts with a single soldier. Cautious, but curious. He listens more than he speaks.

Asking you subtle questions about your beliefs. Eventually, he reveals himself as a part of a secret group. A group that shares your ideas, but has been hiding.

Waiting for the right moment to act. You're introduced to the others. A small gathering of Saiyans.

Mostly low-ranking warriors like yourself. Along with a handful of Tuffles. The Tuffles are a race that had always lived under the Saiyan rule on planet Vegeta as slaves.

But since Frieza's rise to power, some of them have gained positions of influence. Thanks to their scientific ingenuity. Their knowledge is very valuable.

And their inclusion in the group is a testament of the vision you all share. A galaxy free of Frieza's tyranny. For the first time in your life, you feel like you have true comrades.

Friends. It's a strange feeling. The sense of connection.

Having people you care about is something you'd never allowed yourself to imagine. It makes the missions harder. Destroying innocent lives weight heavier on you now that you have people you care about.

But the energy in the group is very infectious. And it fills you with hope. The members have real strategies.

Real plans for change. Some advocate for reaching out to the Galactic Patrol. Hoping for an alliance.

Others suggest building a coalition of races devastated by Frieza's conquest to mount a rebellion. And then there are the whispers. Rumors that Frieza may not even be the strongest being in the universe.

Some believe that there are others out there more powerful than him. And then, one day, a tough old historian in the group shares something that shakes you to your core. He tells you the story of Yamoshi.

The myth of the legendary Super Saiyan, he explains, is not a myth at all. It's history. Yamoshi was real.

A Saiyan who rose above all the chaos and brutality of his time. Who stood for something greater than destruction. As the historian speaks, you feel something awaken inside you.

Pride. Real pride. Not the hallow, manipulative kind you've been fed your entire life.

But the kind that comes from knowing your people are capable of greatness. For weeks, Yamoshi is all your group can talk about. His story becomes a beacon of hope.

You dream of finding him. Or someone like him. A savior who will rise, defeat Frieza, and free the Saiyan race from its chain.

For the first time in your life, you look forward to the future. The idea of the Super Saiyan consumes you, driving you forward with a renewed sense of purpose. And for the first time, you dare to believe that things might actually change.

Weeks pass, and you and your new group work tirelessly to gather scraps of information that could help you stand against Frieza. Strategies. Weaknesses.

Anything. Your group is usually secretive. No information leaves its circle.

But this time, something does. The legend of the Super Saiyan. Maybe someone in the group got too excited and let it slip.

Maybe they tried to use it to recruit others. Whatever the reason, word spread fast. Before long, you hear some soldiers talking about it.

They don't take it seriously. Most of them dismiss it as nonsense. A wild conspiracy theory to laugh about during downtime.

Thankfully, no one seems to suspect your group as the source of the rumor. But this rumor doesn't stop with the Saiyans. It spreads through the ranks of Frieza's army, even reaching Frieza himself.

And to your astonishment, you hear from one of your comrades that Frieza believes it. And not only he believes it, but he's growing paranoid. At first, this feels like a victory.

You think, we've already gotten into his head. If he's so scared of the Super Saiyan, maybe he'll leave us alone. But you were so wrong.

At the time, you couldn't have known how deeply Frieza's fear would run, or how devastating its consequences would be. You didn't know then. And in that ignorance, you allowed yourself a rare moment of happiness.

For the first time, you let yourself fall in love. She was a member of your group. Sharp and fearless.

With strength that went beyond her power level. In Saiyan society, monogamous relationships are almost unheard of. But in your little group, it's different.

When the two of you announce your bond, everyone celebrates. Even as the planning and preparation for the change continue, you feel lighter for once. The weight of battles and fear seems easier to carry with her on your side.

But peace never lasts long in a Saiyan's life. The stress comes rushing back the day she tells you she's pregnant. It is not the idea of becoming a father that scares you.

Not at all. The thought of having a child fills you with something rare. Something that feels like a purpose.

It's a feeling you've barely allowed yourself to experience since your childhood was stripped away by war. What terrifies you is the thought of your child enduring the same horrors you've faced. The battles.

The blood. The endless suffering. There is no way you're going to let that happen.

You have to save him. Your son is taken by the army. And placed in artificial wombs like all the others.

Soon, they'll start assessing his power level. And if he's deemed fit for recruitment, he'll be taken away. And you may never see him again.

This thought haunts you. A part of you hopes, desperately, that your son will be weak. Weak enough to be rejected by the army.

Weak enough to be released to some non-fighters and be forgotten. Then you could find him and take him away. Far from the violence and the suffering.

But the news isn't promising. Insiders in your group tell you that the early data suggest that your son has an extremely high power level. He might even be one of the elites.

You're crushed. You feel like you've lost your only chance to save him. And yet, deep down, you can't deny a flicker of pride.

When all you want for him is to be spared, you feel proud that your son has inherited such strength. You feel hopeless. Until your group steps in to help.

They know how much your child means to you. They see the fire in your eyes. And understand that this isn't just about your son.

It's about everything you're fighting for. After weeks of planning, they help you devise a solution. The saiyan government is strict.

But it's also very corrupt. If you know the right people and have enough to offer, you can sometimes bend the rule. So you and your wife sell everything you own.

Everything you've ever earned. And offer it as a bribe. It costs you everything.

But it works. The documents are falsified. Your son is officially labeled as weak and unfit for service.

And he's finally released. The weight lifts from your shoulders. And now the real work begins.

Your group knows the clock is ticking. It's time to finalize the plans for your operation. The rebellion is no longer a distant dream.

It's real. And it's starting now. And you will do whatever it takes to ensure your son has a future worth fighting for.

But before any concrete plan could be made, shocking news reached your group. One of your comrades, a Tuffle with insider access to the army. He has been working in one of the incubation facilities where newborn saiyan power levels were evaluated.

And they discovered a child with a power level unlike anything ever recorded. It was beyond comprehension. And he was sure this child might be the legendary super saiyan.

The group was stunned. Their hope was reignited in a way you hadn't seen before. But there was a problem.

King Vegeta himself has ordered the child to be exiled to an inhabited planet. No explanation was given. But it was clear.

The king saw the child as a threat, not a savior. This revelation only deepened the group's resentment towards the king. It confirmed what you had always suspected.

King Vegeta thrived under Frieza's rule, and worked to preserve the very system that enslaved the saiyan race. The group decided to act immediately. A small team volunteered to steal one of Frieza's ships and start searching for the exiled child.

They knew the risks. Their disappearance would not be unnoticed. And Frieza's forces would hunt them relentlessly.

But the possibility of finding the legendary super saiyan was worth everything. As expected, news quickly spread that the ship was missing, and Frieza's paranoia grew. He was already fearful of the super saiyan legend, and this event pushed his suspicions further.

While your comrades pursued this faint hope, you focused on what little time you could spend with your son. Your work in the army left no time for you to be a father. And he was largely cared for by a trusted comrade who had no fighting duties.

It hurt to see him grow up without you. But you trusted your friend to keep him safe. Then came an unprecedented command.

All saiyans were to return to planet Vegeta immediately. All world operations were to cease entirely. At first, the directive seemed like an unusual, but welcomed opportunity to finally spend time with your kid.

But upon returning to the planet, the mood among your comrades was tense. Insiders had uncovered troubling information. Frieza was behind the recall.

That much was certain. But no one could say for sure what he was planning. The theories were grim.

Some believed he intended to end the saiyans' self-governance entirely, folding them permanently into his army to weaken their autonomy further. The implications were dire. Such move would make your mission almost impossible.

The rebellion would lose its footing before it even begun. One of your comrades shared the story of another father, who fearing the worst, he sent his child to a distant weak planet. A precaution against the unknown future.

You thought about it. But dismissed the idea. You had fought so hard to keep your son close.

To protect him from the system. Sending him away felt like giving up. Like erasing everything you had sacrificed.

If only you had known what was coming. If only you had done the same. Anyways, things aren't looking good.

But after long discussions, the group reached the most obvious conclusion. Wait and see what Frieza is planning. There is no clear move to make until his intentions became known.

But just in case, you prepare an escape plan. A way to get off the planet if things go wrong. You all agree to use the few free days you have on planet Vegeta to take care of any unfinished business.

For you, there is only one priority. Your son. You decide to use this brief window of time to truly get to know him.

And finally start training him. Not the brutal, soul-crushing kind of training you endured as a child. But real martial arts.

Techniques and philosophies you've picked up through years of experience. Lessons about strength, discipline, and compassion. The kind of lessons you wish you had been taught.

You lay awake that night, envisioning the life you wanted to give him. He would be a warrior like no other. A symbol of hope for the Saiyans.

You imagine the future. A better one. A life where your son grows up to be the warrior you always dreamed of being.

A life where he fights not with strength, but with a pure heart. Like Yamushi. The hero who inspired you.

And why not? Maybe your son is special. Maybe.

Just maybe. He will be a legendary Super Saiyan. This idea fills you with happiness.

So overwhelming, it feels foreign. It's the happiest you've ever been in your miserable life. And the happiest you'll ever be.

At least, you got that moment. Because suddenly, everything changes. You wake up to chaos.

Screams echo in the streets. People running in every direction. Panicked and desperate.

Shouting for help. Then you saw it. The largest energy bomb you had ever laid your eyes on was speeding towards your planet.

Some of your comrades had already launched themselves into the sky, desperate to stop it. You followed. Your body moving before your mind could even process the situation.

You had to help. You had to fight. But it was pointless.

Before you could even reach them, it was over. You, or what was left of you, drifted in the cold vacuum of space. And as the fragments of your shattered planet floated around you, the cold void of space seeping into what was left of you, you couldn't stop the thoughts floating your mind.

What was I thinking? You truly believed the Saiyans could have a better life. You truly believed you could change something.

How foolish. How naive. You see it clearly now.

You were delusional. The others were right all along. King Vegeta was right.

He wasn't a tyrant. He wasn't a coward. He was trying to protect your race the only way he knew how.

By keeping you in line. By keeping you from provoking the wrath of someone as powerful as Frieza. And yet, you couldn't accept it.

You wanted more. You clung to fantasies. Desperate to hold on to any shred of hope.

You believed in a legend. An ancient story told to children. A bedtime tale meant to inspire wonder.

But that's all it ever was. The Super Saiyan does not exist. The Saiyans were never distant for greatness.

You were nothing more than a race of brutal, brainless warriors. Tearing each other apart and selling your might to the highest bidder. But that wasn't enough for you, was it?

You wanted more. You wanted to rise above what you were. To reach beyond the limits of your nature.

You were greedy. And your greed destroyed everything. You caused this.

Frieza's paranoia. His decision to wipe out your people. It all started with you.

With your delusions. You were so desperate to believe in something. To make your pathetic existence mean something.

That you set into motion the end of your entire race. Perhaps. .

. Perhaps you deserved it. After all the pain your people caused to others.

After all the planets your kind ravaged. Perhaps this was justice. But your son.

You thought of him. Of the life you had wanted to give him. And you felt the weight of your failure crush you.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry, son. Your life ended so quickly.

So cruelly. Because of me. I'm sorry it even begun.

I shouldn't have brought you into such brutal, hopeless world. A small flicker of light caught your eye. A faint glow of your scouter's screen.

A message. Someone had sent you something. But before you could open it.

Before you could read these final words. Your life was already over.