To thanks for like 400 ps
And um your sister kinda kidnapped me after l said l can't sleep with her.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
So now she and l are together.
---
So how do you wanna do this Frieza.
The Grand Priest looked at Frieza, his gaze ancient and immeasurable, as if he were staring at a contradiction made flesh.
Frieza's smile widened just a fraction, sharp and amused, and he said
"how would the Grand Priest like it if I kill both of them at the same time."
The words fell like a guillotine.
Champa's aura flared violently, purple lightning tearing through the void, while Beerus' tail lashed once in pure instinctive rage.
Both Gods of Destruction were furious—divine pride screaming to be unleashed—yet neither of them dared to speak.
Not a threat. Not an insult. Not even a snarl.
(A/N:- Good boys)
For the first time in their existence, silence was their defense.
The Grand Priest was of course shocked, though his face did not show it.
His expression remained perfectly composed, but the space around him tightened, reality itself reacting to the weight of what had just been said.
Some could say he expected such words from Frieza.
Nonetheless, the shock was real.
"I heard from a little birde there exist earrings that can make two people join together."
The Grand Priest said are you sure, his tone mild, almost conversational, yet layered with warning.
"Not only would they be stronger, he continued, they could also possibly learn what they couldn't in all their lives."
"Not only that, it would be unfair to you, and it would not be the cleanest match in history."
"If you kill them, two Destroyers would die."
Destabilizing the Multiverse.
(Multiverse is used for all the universe in this reality not The Multiverse.)
The words carried no exaggeration. No drama. Just fact.
Frieza didn't look at the Grand Priest.
Instead, his eyes slid toward Vados.
She stood perfectly still, posture flawless, yet she avoided his gaze as if it burned. Frieza's stare traced her presence slowly, deliberately, as though searching her whole body, peeling away layers of divinity with nothing but attention.
Frieza said "but what does that have to do with me."
"Pardon?" the Grand Priest said, and for the first time his voice sharpened, just slightly.
"This seems like a problem for a God of your caliber, what can a poor mortal like me do"
The words were mockery wrapped in politeness, humility twisted into a blade.
The Grand Priest went silent.
The void itself seemed to freeze.
After a long moment, he said I see.
Then he vanished.
No flash. No ripple. No announcement.
Just absence.
Meanwhile Champa moved beside Beerus, placing a trembling hand against his brother's back, feeding him divine energy.
Light flowed between them as Beerus' burned fur slowly regenerated, though the humiliation carved into his pride refused to heal. His fists shook, not from pain—but from rage at being reduced to this.
Frieza turned away from them as if they no longer existed.
He walked slowly and stood together with Vados, his presence overwhelming, oppressive, intimate in a way no angel should ever experience.
Vados kept her eyes on the ground.
Despite living for billions of years, despite standing beside Gods and Zeno himself, she couldn't endure someone like Frieza looking at her like that—calm, dominant, unafraid—as if her divinity offered no shelter at all.
As if she were completely exposed.
As if she were… naked.
And Frieza smiled, knowing she felt it.
He glanced at her and said "you know for an Angel you're remarkably composed."
Vados lifted her eyes slightly, just enough to acknowledge him. "One learns composure early when one's duty lasts longer than most universes."
Frieza chuckled softly. "Sounds exhausting. Eternity without indulgence."
She smiled faintly. "Indulgence is a luxury. Observation is a responsibility."
Frieza folded his arms behind his back and looked ahead as if they were simply watching stars instead of broken gods. "And yet you watched all of this without intervening."
Vados replied calmly "intervention would have changed nothing. Besides my role is not to choose outcomes. Only to witness them."
Frieza tilted his head. "How very… convenient."
"Or honest," Vados said. "There is a difference."
For a moment neither spoke.
Then Frieza said "tell me something Vados. Have you ever wondered what you would be if you weren't an Angel."
She paused longer this time. Longer than an Angel should.
"Sometimes," she admitted. "But wondering is harmless. Acting is not."
Frieza smiled at that. "I disagree. Acting is the only thing that makes existence interesting."
Vados met his gaze fully now. Her expression was calm but her eyes were sharp. "And that philosophy is precisely why the cosmos is afraid of you."
Frieza laughed lightly. "Good. Fear keeps things honest."
Vados let out a quiet breath that might have been amusement. Or concern.
"You are a very unusual mortal Mr Frieza."
He inclined his head slightly. "Coming from an Angel I'll take that as praise."
They stood there in silence again.
Not awkward.
Just two beings far too powerful for the moment they were sharing.
We see that despite Frieza looking at Vados, his gaze wasn't disrespectful.
He wasn't catcalling her, and he wasn't looking at her for only her body. There was something deeper, something instinctual, something dangerous in its subtlety.
He was drawn to her in a way that unsettled even him—a flicker of curiosity, of fascination, and perhaps… of desire.
For the first time in his lifetimes, Frieza felt the sharp, inexplicable sting of what could only be called love at first sight.
And that realization was as perilous as any opponent he had ever faced.
But of course, that didn't change anything.
If she stood in the way of his plan, she would die. Without hesitation.
Without mercy.
Because in the end, Frieza answered only to the perfect execution of his vision.
Her life, her beauty, her very presence—even the dangerous allure she radiated—were secondary to the outcome he had meticulously orchestrated.
"Everything is going according to my plan," he thought, voice a whisper and a roar all at once, echoing in the void of his mind.
From the moment he transmigrated to this body, to the instant he had trained, suffered, killed, and mastered, every step had been calculated.
Every enemy felled, every god toyed with, every universe that had trembled under his shadow—it was all threads in the same tapestry.
Nothing was accidental.
Nothing was left to chance.
Frieza's eyes lingered on Vados a moment longer, not with lust, not with disrespect, but with the cold fascination of a predator studying something exquisite—something so rare that it both threatened and intrigued him.
He could feel the hum of her power, the subtle vibrations of her essence. And yet, even that did not sway him.
Even that could not make him falter.
"From the moment I transmigrated," he thought.
" From the moment I opened my eyes to this new reality, everything has been planned. Every death, every victory, every moment of despair, every thread of manipulation—it leads to this. The moment Beerus arrived the moment he pick the fight with him. It was all planed."
"Every step brings me closer to what I am meant to be. Nothing can stop it. Nothing will stop it."
He had played the game of Fate....Now it was time Frieza played with her back.
And in that silence, in that gaze fixed on Vados, the truth was clear: Frieza was both the storm and the eye, the predator and the apex.
The universe could tremble, gods could fall, and angels could falter—but the plan….. it was all going to Keikaku