The White House.
It had been converted into a temporary wartime command center.
But at this moment, everyone had been cleared out, leaving only a spacious, brightly lit conference room.
The President sat at one end of the long table, flanked by Alexander Pierce and a few men in black suits who looked like Secret Service agents.
The faces of everyone present were strained, as if bracing for a major assault.
Voom!
A wave of blue ripples suddenly spread through the air.
The power of the Space Stone!
A dimensional portal opened out of thin air.
The first to step through was Loki, dressed in a Ginyu Force uniform and sporting an obsequious, fawning expression.
Close behind him was Hill, equally clad in the embarrassing battle suit, but with a face as cold as ice.
The moment Pierce saw Hill, his eyes narrowed sharply.
She was still alive?
And wearing that outfit?
Could she have succeeded? Had she managed to gain control of that demon?
A flicker of hope rose in Pierce's heart, only to be brutally crushed the next second.
"Everyone listen up!"
Hill's voice was as frigid and mechanical as a machine.
"All rise! Pay your respects to the Great Galactic Emperor, Supreme Commander of the Frieza Force—Lord Frieza!"
What?!
The President and Pierce were utterly dumbfounded.
The Commander of S.H.I.E.L.D. had defected? And become the enemy's lackey?
Before they could react, a rhythmic sound echoed from the portal.
Clack. Clack. Clack.
Elegant footsteps emerged from the blue light.
Frieza, hands in the pockets of his crisp white suit, strolled out like a superstar walking the red carpet.
An invisible, suffocating pressure instantly filled the entire conference room.
The President felt his heart being squeezed by a giant hand; he struggled to breathe.
But he forced himself to stand up, managing a smile that looked worse than a grimace.
"W-welcome, Mr. Frieza."
"It is an honor for the United States of America."
"Have a seat."
Frieza didn't even glance at him, walking straight to the head of the table—the spot reserved for the President—and plopped down, even propping his feet up on the tabletop.
A complete takeover.
"I hear you're here to surrender?" Frieza asked nonchalantly, fiddling with his fingers.
The President swallowed hard, wiping the cold sweat from his brow.
"Y-yes, sir. In the face of this kind of power, we recognize the smallness of humanity."
"However, Mr. Frieza, Earth has seven billion people; it's quite troublesome to manage. We were hoping... perhaps a compromise?"
The President shakily produced a document and pushed it across the table.
"For example... we could transfer the ownership of the Moon or Mars to you?"
"If you insist on Earth territory, we could perhaps allocate the Hawaiian Islands, or Australia, to be your personal estate..."
Before he could finish, a sound exploded from Frieza.
"Pfft—HAHAHAHA!"
Frieza suddenly burst into laughter, bending over as if he'd heard the funniest joke in the entire universe.
"The Moon? Mars? Hawaii?"
Frieza abruptly cut off his laughter, his crimson eyes locking onto the President, unleashing a terrifying wave of murderous intent.
"Are you playing games with me?!"
"You would try to placate a Galactic Emperor with barren, godforsaken rocks?"
"Do you think I'm easy to deal with?"
Boom!
An invisible shockwave erupted from Frieza, instantly cracking the conference table. The President was thrown back into his chair, his face chalk-white.
"No! No! We were just negotiating..." The President stammered incoherently, terrified.
"Enough," Frieza shook his head, looking bored.
"I thought you might have a surprise for me, but it's all just tiresome haggling."
"Since you refuse to be civil, don't blame me for being ruthless."
With that, Frieza slowly stood up.
"The talk is over. Prepare to face judgment."
Just then, Pierce, who had been standing behind the President, quickly pressed a tiny button in his hand.
"Do it!"
Voom!
Without any warning, the space behind Frieza suddenly warped.
A cloud of red, swirling energy appeared out of nowhere.
A woman in a red leather jacket, with an expression carrying a hint of madness and nervous energy, materialized like a ghost behind Frieza.
The Scarlet Witch, Wanda Maximoff!
This was Pierce's trump card! The final product of Hydra's secret experiments!
Though Wanda was still young, the power of her Chaos Magic was already formidable.
"Control him!"
Wanda's hands glowed red as she slammed them toward Frieza's temples.
If the mind control succeeded, even a Galactic Emperor would obey her command!
However.
"Too slow."
Frieza didn't even turn his head.
The instant Wanda's fingers were about to touch his skin, his hand, moving as if by teleportation, snapped back.
Clinch!
His grip was precise and deadly, clamping down on Wanda's slender, pale neck.
"Ugh..."
Wanda's eyes widened instantly, and the red magical aura vanished. She felt like her neck was caught in an iron vise, and a sudden rush of suffocation flooded her brain.
"An ambush?"
Frieza slowly turned, lifting Wanda into the air like a small chick.
"Another one of these tedious tricks."
"What? Is S.H.I.E.L.D. out of people? You're sending out girls who haven't even graduated to the big leagues yet?"
"Let her go!!"
Just then, a silver flash of lightning burst through the conference room doors.
Quicksilver! Pietro!
His speed was extreme, virtually impossible to track with the naked eye.
He held a specialized Vibranium dagger, aiming straight for Frieza's heart in a desperate move to save his sister!
"Hmph, a fly that's a bit too fast."
Frieza didn't even look at the silver blur.
He simply raised his free left hand and flicked his index finger.
Shing!
A purple Death Beam sliced through the air, perfectly anticipating Quicksilver's trajectory.
Pfft!
A soft sound.
The silver flash came to an abrupt stop.
Quicksilver remained in his sprinting posture, frozen less than three feet from Frieza.
A scorched, bloody hole had appeared between his eyebrows.
The urgency and fury in his eyes had not yet faded, but his life was already over.
Thud.
His body hit the floor.
"NO!!! PIETRO!!!"
Wanda, whose neck was still clamped, let out a heart-wrenching scream, tears streaming down her face.
He was her only family! Her only brother!
"So loud."
Frieza frowned, looking at the woman in his grasp, who was thrashing wildly and even attempting to detonate the Chaos Magic within her.
"Though... she's got a nice look to her. Lots of potential."
The killing intent in Frieza's eyes eased slightly.
It would be a shame to kill her. A beauty of this caliber would be a fine addition to his collection, and that red energy looked rather festive.
"In that case..."
The Mind Stone in Frieza's pocket glowed yellow once more.
Voom!
A potent mental force slammed directly into Wanda's already shattered psyche.
"Become my slave."
A few seconds later.
The madness and sorrow in Wanda's eyes gradually vanished, replaced by a vacant stare and complete submission.
"Loki! Hill!"
Frieza released his grip, letting Wanda sink to her knees, then addressed his two subordinates.
Loki and Hill had now recovered from Wanda's brief mental attack.
"You pack of wild monkeys dared to ambush the great Galactic Emperor!"
Loki was the first to leap out, yelling insults at the President and Pierce. He was genuinely furious; if his master died, the bomb in his own head might go off!
"Shameless! Despicable! You have courted your own destruction!"
Hill, too, stared icily at her former boss, Pierce. "Prepare to face the Emperor's wrath!"
"T-this... this..."
The President slumped to the floor, looking at the corpse and the controlled Wanda, consumed by utter despair.
It was over.
Completely over.
"Was that your final move?"
Frieza clapped his hands, looking at the assembled sheep ready for slaughter.
"Since you are so eager to die..."
A team of heavily armed Secret Service agents and soldiers suddenly rushed through the door.
"Open fire!"
Rattatatatat!
An endless stream of bullets poured in.
Frieza didn't even bother to dodge; he simply waved his hand.
Boom!
An invisible shockwave swept outward instantly.
All the bullets flew back, and all the soldiers were smashed against the walls like ragdolls, instantly turning into pools of gore.
The conference room became a scene of absolute carnage.
Frieza turned to face the only ones remaining: the President and Pierce.
"I was going to let you keep your bodies intact."
Shing! Shing!
Two beams of light flashed.
The world went quiet.
"Let's go."
Frieza didn't even spare a glance for the bodies on the floor, as if he had only crushed a couple of ants.
He, Loki, Hill, and the vacant-eyed but obedient Wanda walked straight through the White House wall and onto the lawn outside.
The White House perimeter was already surrounded by countless military troops and media helicopters.
Every camera and gun was aimed at the figure emerging from the smoke and dust.
The whole thing was being broadcast live!
Frieza slowly ascended, taking his three companions a thousand meters into the sky.
He looked down at the white building that represented the highest authority of humankind, at the soldiers bracing for battle, and at the camera lenses.
He smiled.
A smile of utter arrogance and pure malevolence.
"Since you believed your ridiculous little schemes could take me down..."
Frieza slowly raised his right hand. At the tip of his index finger, a purple ball of energy began to rapidly condense, compress, and grow.
The terrifying energy ripple caused the surrounding space to begin collapsing, with black lightning crackling around the sphere.
It was a—Destruction Ball!—even more fearsome than the last time.
(A scaled-down version, of course.)
Frieza looked into the camera, his crimson eyes holding the cold indifference of one who has witnessed all the suffering in the universe.
His voice boomed across the sky:
"Then I will show you what true divine power looks like!"
Frieza gave a gentle push, and the Destruction Ball slowly began its descent.
"How many flights of stairs must one carry this bag of rice up? Oh-ho-ho-ho-ho..."