Frieza stood before the trembling scientist, arms folded behind his back like a judge already bored with the verdict. The lab hummed with failing fluorescent lights and the stink of coolant, but the real rot in the room was the man kneeling before him.
"Is that it?" Frieza's voice was calm, but cold enough to flay skin. "Three hundred times gravity."
The scientist swallowed so hard it clicked.
"M‑My Lord… 300g is the absolute limit our current generators can produce.
Any further and the stabilizers fail.Not to mention Physics won't allow any more compression. This is the strongest chamber in the empire. No one else can—"
Frieza cut him off with a look alone. Contempt sat in his eyes like a coiled serpent.
Three hundred. Barely enough to warm up his ankles.
He could withstand that without a flicker of ki. Without even stretching his spine. He had asked for five hundred—just five hundred—and this was what they brought him? Mediocrity wrapped in a lab coat.
Pathetic.
Frieza's eye twitched. Physics. The mortal shield weak minds hide behind.
A wave of disgust passed through him—not because of the failure, but because of the thought that forced its way into his skull again:
He was trapped in a body with no way to vent his frustrations the way mammals could.
No anatomy, no appendages,no dick, no… anything.
Every time he remembered he had no genitals, a quiet, irrational fury boiled in the pit of his cold, perfect core.
King Cold had called it "the elegance of our species." Frieza called it what it was: a cosmic joke.
The idea of kidnapping that blue-haired Earth woman resurfaced.
she built gadgets like they were toys. She would have solved a 500g chamber before lunch and complained about lunch being late. Bulma… yes, she would be useful.
For a moment he fantasized about tearing open reality itself and dragging her here—someone who actually understood machines, someone who didn't whimper like a wounded rodent in his presence. The thought came fast and sharp, and then he stopped. His lips curled.
A smile. Slow. Deliberate.
Then the laughter began.
Soft at first—like a fuse catching flame—before rising into a jagged, manic crescendo that rattled the metal walls.
The air felt colder. The lights dimmed. Every creature in that facility would later claim they felt death himself stretch and yawn awake.
The scientist broke.
He collapsed forward, shaking violently, a puddle spreading beneath him. The smell hit the room like the slap of humiliation itself.
Frieza's laughter snapped off. Silence fell hard.
He stared down at the man—once his "smartest" technician—and now nothing more than a quivering disgrace soaked in his own fear.
Frieza actually considered sparing him. A passing thought. A brief flicker of mercy.
But mercy evaporated the moment the stench of urine touched his nose.
The smell of this filth,the smell of Mongrel.
Oh how he hated that smell.
The Mongrel Monkey smell.
"You have disappointed me," Frieza said, and he didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to. "And worse… you have disgusted me."
A flick of his finger. A pinpoint of ki—sharp as a needle, bright as a star—shot forward and pierced the scientist right above the brow.
He died before his body even realized it had been killed.
Frieza waved a hand. "Clean this filth. And disinfect the entire chamber. His stupidity lingers in the air."
Soldiers rushed in to drag the corpse away.
Frieza tapped his scouter. "Bring me the soldier I shot in the leg."
The doors slid open moments later, and the man stood at attention—no limp, no injury.
His leg had healed completely, thanks to a rejuvenation tank Frieza had ensured he received.
A reward for surviving. A test of resilience. And the soldier understood exactly what had been given to him.
He didn't kneel out of fear. He knelt out of devotion.
A perfect servent who only know to obey his Master.
"My Emperor," he said, voice steady, gaze firm.
"I live to serve."
Frieza watched him with a rare flicker of approval. "Good. I require you to arrange contact with the remnants of those Monkeys.
The soldier blinked. "Y‑you mean th—"
"Yes. The Saiyans." Frieza's tail curled behind him like a scorpion preparing to strike. "I have use for their desperation… and their fear. And I believe they'll be very interested to know their new emperor wishes to speak."
The soldier bowed lower. "It will be done, Lord Frieza. At once."
Frieza leaned back in his chair, tail curling slowly around the base, eyes narrowing as he calculated the trajectory. If Raditz used the emergency pod to travel from galaxy B:67 to the Milky Way, it would take two full years.
Two years of isolation, of silence, of blind obedience. The pod was slow, cumbersome, but it guaranteed the timeline remained intact. It was exactly what Frieza wanted.
As he wasn't sure if the sayian would still go to get Kakarot after all the improvement he will make to the empire.
Longer than convenience, yes. Safer, absolutely.
Two years would give Goku exactly the right amount of time to grow, to train, to remain blissfully unaware of the storm heading his way.
Frieza's fingers drummed lightly against the armrest as the logic settled in. Goku wasn't ready.
Not yet. The canon had to remain unbroken, at least until he arrived himself.
A message blinked onto the console. Vegeta's face appeared, twisted, strained, and clearly unwilling. He bowed stiffly, but Frieza could see every ounce of malice radiating off him, each molecule charged with barely restrained hatred. The sight of it made him chuckle.
"Hello, you fucking monkey. How are you?" Frieza said, voice smooth, mocking, edged with that cruel amusement only he could wield.
Vegeta's jaw clenched audibly, so tight it sounded like it might fracture through the transmission. He forced a smile that looked more like a grimace, a face of pain masquerading as civility.
Frieza laughed. First quietly, testing the sound. Then louder, crueler, letting the laughter stretch until it carried venom through the comms. The prince looked pitiful, dwarfed by his own rage and frustration.
The laughter made Vegeta's hands twitch, one dangerously close to smashing the console. Frieza didn't care. He let it echo, let the humiliation sink in, and then cut it off like a blade.
"Call Raditz," he said, voice firm, deliberate.
Vegeta's confusion was obvious. Raditz? Now? But obedience outweighed pride. He nodded stiffly and activated the link. Within moments, Raditz appeared on the screen, tail curling, eyes wide.
The younger Saiyan looked like he had swallowed something unpleasant, a permanent sense of terror etched across his face.
Raditz looked like he was trying to hold in a bowel movement the size of a planet.He bowed low, nearly scraping his nose against the console.
"H-how can I be of service to you, my lord?" he stammered.
Frieza's eyes glinted, sharp as a blade. "Raditz, I have a mission for you."
Raditz's posture stiffened. "Y-yes, sir!"
"You have a brother named Kakarot. Your task is simple: bring him back. Willingly or unwillingly, it makes no difference. Take the emergency pod and Depart immediately.
You will arrive on Earth in exactly two years. Do not fail. Do not take detours along the way."
Raditz froze, the enormity of the command pressing down on him like a physical weight. His tail whipped nervously.
Vegeta, still on the comms, gave him a sharp kick to the leg. The jolt forced Raditz upright, alert, focused.
"Y-yes, sir!" he cried, bowing so hard it looked as though his spine might snap.
Frieza's smirk widened. Perfect. The plan unfolded exactly as he had designed.
The emergency pod would carry Raditz through the void of space for two years, untouched, untested by others, arriving precisely when the timeline demanded.
He let the silence stretch for a moment, watching the fear and obedience radiate off Raditz.
The Monkeys had no idea what awaited him.
"This is how it must be," Frieza thought, letting the words echo inside his skull.
"No shortcuts. No accidents. Every piece must move exactly as it should, or everything collapses before l could step in and destroy it myself"
Then, calmly, he cut the comms. The screen went dark.
The Milky Way, Earth, Goku—they were all waiting, unaware of the predator already planning their future.
Frieza leaned back, tail curling neatly around his chair, letting the quiet settle over him. Two years.
Plenty of time to prepare.
That Fucking MONKEY won't know what your him.
And when Raditz will arrive everything would fall into place exactly as Frieza intended.