Frieza noticed it almost immediately.
Broly was younger than the creature he would one day become, but the shape was already there—the same broad frame, the same coiled strength, the same eyes that looked as if they were always on the verge of tearing the world apart. Time had not changed that. It had only sharpened it.
Broly felt the stare.
The strange white-and-gold creature's gaze crawled over him, cold and assessing, and something inside him snapped. With a rough snarl, Broly lunged forward, power surging wild and uncontrolled.
He never made it two steps.
A sharp crack split the air as a shock collar flared to life. Electricity coursed through Broly's body, dropping him to one knee with a pained roar. His fists slammed into the ground, stone shattering beneath his hands.
"Broly!" a voice barked.
Paragus rushed into view, panic and fury written across his face. He held the remote tightly, thumb hovering as Broly convulsed, then finally went still, breathing hard.
Paragus didn't waste a second.
He turned, straightened, and hurried toward Frieza, dropping into a deep bow so low his forehead nearly touched the ground. "L-Lord Frieza… is that truly you?"
Frieza laughed.
It wasn't loud. It didn't need to be. The sound carried contempt all on its own.
"And who else," Frieza said smoothly, "would dare imitate me, Foolish Monkey?"
Paragus flinched but forced a tight smile, saying nothing. Survival demanded silence.
Frieza drifted closer, eyes moving past Paragus to the massive figure struggling to rise behind him. "And who," he asked casually, "might this little Monster be?"
Paragus's jaw tightened. His hands clenched before he answered. "He… he is my son. Broly."
Frieza's lips curved upward. "I see."
He turned his full attention to Broly now, watching the boy struggle against his own strength, confusion and anger warring on his face. Power like that, buried under fear and isolation—it was almost insulting to waste it.
"He has remarkable potential," Frieza said lightly. "Enough to be useful. What do you say, Paragus… I make your son one of my elite?"
He tilted his head. "Unless you think otherwise."
Paragus's hands came up immediately, palms open. "O-Of course not, Lord Frieza. How could I ever refuse your command?"
Frieza floated closer and placed a single finger on Paragus's shoulder. The touch was gentle. The meaning was not.
He leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper meant for Paragus alone.
"Broly belongs to me now. Any attempt to guide him against my interests… any attempt to use him…" Frieza smiled. "Well. I trust you understand."
Paragus nodded rapidly, sweat running down his face. "Y-Yes. Completely."
He turned at once, voice sharp as he faced his son. "Broly. From this moment on, this is your lord—Lord Frieza. You will obey him. Always."
Broly looked between them, breathing heavy. He didn't understand the words, not fully—but he understood tone. He understood fear. He understood that his father was afraid of this being in a way he had never been afraid of anything else.
Slowly, Broly nodded.
Frieza watched the exchange with clear satisfaction.
"Good," he said.
He turned back to Broly and crooked a single finger. "You. Come here."
Broly hesitated.
His feet shifted against the ground as he glanced at Paragus again. Paragus swallowed hard and nodded encouragingly, forcing calm into his voice.
"It's all right, Broly. Go."
Broly took a step forward.
Then another.
Each movement was cautious, restrained, like a wild animal approaching something it didn't yet understand. When he finally stood before Frieza, towering over him, Frieza felt it clearly—the raw, sleeping storm beneath Broly's skin.
Frieza smiled wider.
Yes.
This one would be worth the effort.
Frieza studied him up close now.
Not as a ruler looking at a subject, but as a craftsman examining raw material.
Broly was enormous for his age—muscle packed tight, body scarred not from battle but from survival.
His ki was unstable, leaking in uneven waves, flaring and collapsing like a fire with no hearth. It wasn't refined. It wasn't trained. It was simply there—too much of it, trapped inside a child who had never been taught what to do with it.
Frieza felt a flicker of something almost like amusement.
What a waste this had been.
Broly stood stiffly, fists clenched at his sides, jaw tight. He didn't understand why this small creature radiated such pressure. His instincts screamed danger, louder than hunger, louder than pain. Every part of him wanted to fight or run—but Paragus's presence anchored him in place.
Frieza drifted slowly around him, circling once, tail swaying lazily. He could feel Broly's eyes tracking him, wary, confused.
"So much strength," Frieza murmured. "And not a single idea how to use it."
Broly growled low in his throat.
Paragus stiffened instantly. "Broly," he snapped, sharp and urgent. "Mind yourself."
Frieza raised a hand, stopping him.
"No," Frieza said calmly. "Let him express himself. I find it… refreshing."
He stopped directly in front of Broly and looked up at him, eyes gleaming.
"Do you know who I am?" Frieza asked.
Broly hesitated, then shook his head.
"I am Frieza," he said. "And I decide what lives, what dies, l am the Emporer of the Entire Universe."
He extended a single finger and lightly tapped Broly's chest.
The air buckled.
Not an attack—just pressure. A controlled release of presence. Broly staggered back half a step, eyes widening as his body reacted on instinct, power flaring wildly before collapsing again under Frieza's will.
Paragus gasped. "L-Lord Frieza—"
Frieza ignored him.
"Your strength is impressive," Frieza continued, voice even. "But right now, it's meaningless. Power without direction is just noise."
Broly breathed hard, chest rising and falling. For the first time, there was no anger in his eyes—only confusion, and something else.
Curiosity.
Frieza noticed it.
Good.
He turned slightly, glancing at Paragus. "You've kept him alive. Fed him. Taught him obedience." His eyes narrowed. "But you've also chained him."
Paragus swallowed. "I did what I had to, my lord."
"I don't doubt that," Frieza replied. "But understand this—under me, Broly will no longer rot on a dead world, fighting ghosts and hunger."
He looked back at Broly.
"He will fight enemies worthy of him."
Broly's brow furrowed. "Fight… strong?" he asked, voice rough, unused.
Frieza smiled.
"Yes," he said softly. "Very strong."
That single sentence landed harder than any blow. Broly's fists tightened again—not in rage this time, but anticipation. Something deep inside him stirred, responding to the promise like a starving beast catching the scent of blood.
Paragus saw it and felt cold dread creep up his spine.
Frieza leaned down slightly, bringing himself level with Broly's eyes. "You will come with me. You will train. You will grow." His voice sharpened. "And in return, you will never be alone again."
Broly didn't answer immediately.
He glanced at Paragus once more—his father, his jailer, his only constant. Paragus forced another nod, fear trembling behind it.
Slowly, Broly looked back at Frieza.
"…Okay," he said.
The word was simple. The consequence was not.
Frieza straightened, satisfied. "Excellent."
He turned away, already losing interest in Paragus. "Prepare to depart," he ordered. "The boy comes with us."
Paragus bowed deeply, relief and terror mixing in equal measure. "Thank you, Lord Frieza. Thank you—"
Frieza paused mid-step and glanced back over his shoulder.
"Oh," he added casually, "Paragus… you may accompany him. For now."
Paragus froze, then bowed even lower. "O-Of course."
Frieza floated toward the ship, cloakless form gleaming under Vampa's harsh sky.
Behind him, Broly followed—hesitant at first, then steadier, drawn forward by something he didn't yet understand.
Frieza smiled to himself.
A weapon forged by neglect.
A mind untouched by rebellion.
A power that would grow without asking why.
Handled correctly, Broly would not just be loyal.
He would be devoted.
And this time, Frieza intended to do it right.
But before he could do any of that Frieza stopped just short of the ship.
Something tugged at the edge of his awareness—not Broly's power, but the shape of it. Suppressed. Muzzled. Forced into a narrow channel.
He turned slowly.
His eyes fell on the device around Broly's neck.
The choker.
Frieza tilted his head, curiosity sharpening into interest. He extended his senses, brushing against it, and immediately felt the crude mechanism buried within—control circuitry, pain induction, an external limiter tied directly to Broly's nervous system.
How… inelegant.
He laughed softly. "So that's how you've kept him in line."
Paragus stiffened. "My lord, it is necessary. Without it, he—"
Frieza raised a hand.
Silence fell instantly.
Frieza drifted back toward Broly, stopping inches away. Broly instinctively tensed, shoulders rising, bracing for pain that did not come.
"You feel it, don't you?" Frieza asked calmly. "That thing choking your strength. Biting whenever you step out of line."
Broly hesitated, then nodded. "Hurts," he said simply.
Frieza's smile faded—not into anger, but into something colder.
"No," he said. "That won't do."
Paragus's breath hitched. "L-Lord Frieza, please—without the control device, he's unstable. He could lose himself."
Frieza glanced at him, eyes sharp. "And yet," he said, "he stood before me and did not attack. Interesting, isn't it?"
He returned his attention to Broly.
"You don't need a leash," Frieza said. "You need purpose."
Broly didn't understand the words fully, but he understood the tone. It wasn't threat. It wasn't command.
It was certainty.
Frieza lifted one finger and placed it lightly against the choker.
For a brief moment, nothing happened.
Then the device screamed.
Not Broly—the choker.
Metal warped, circuitry overloaded, and the control mechanism collapsed in on itself as Frieza released a precise pulse of ki—not violent, not explosive, but absolute.
The choker shattered.
Fragments clattered uselessly to the ground.
Broly staggered as if struck, gasping, eyes wide. Power surged through him unchecked for the first time, flooding his body in a wild, roaring tide. The ground beneath his feet cracked. The air trembled.
Paragus shouted, panic tearing through his composure. "Broly! Control yourself!"
Broly dropped to one knee, clutching his chest, breathing hard—not in pain, but in shock. The world felt bigger. His body felt lighter. Stronger.
Frieza watched closely, ready—but unconcerned.
"Easy," Frieza said, voice cutting through the chaos like a blade through smoke. "Breathe."
Broly's eyes locked onto him.
And slowly, impossibly, the storm settled.
The power didn't vanish—it coiled, contained by instinct alone.
Frieza smiled, satisfied.
"See?" he said. "No leash required."
He turned to Paragus, his voice losing all warmth. "You will never use such a device on my property again."
Paragus trembled and bowed deeply, forehead nearly touching the ground. "N-Never again, my lord."
Frieza floated back toward the ship, tail flicking once.
"Come, Broly," he said casually. "Your training begins soon."
Broly rose to his feet.
He looked down at the broken choker on the ground, then at his hands—hands that no longer shook.
For the first time in his life, nothing hurt.
He followed Frieza without being told again.
Behind them, Vampa howled in the distance—a dead world losing its last claim over its strongest survivor.
Frieza did not look back.
He had just removed a chain.
And in doing so, he had forged something far more dangerous.
---
Drop some stones Pleaseeeeeeee
Drop some reviews aswell.
What you think about the story so far