Deep space, near Xandar's atmosphere.
The Dark Aster.
"Tsk..."
Frieza sat inside the golden hover pod, looking out through the transparent shield.
He examined the massive ship he had just acquired with a look of utter disdain.
"That guy called Ronan, not only is his face dark, but he made his spaceship look so gloomy too."
"This black paint job with zero aesthetic sense is simply blasphemy to a Galactic Emperor's taste."
He pressed the communication button on the side of the pod, his elegant voice transmitting via quantum signal to Planet 002.
"Erik."
"Subordinate is here! My King!" Magneto's excited voice came through immediately.
"This fleet is handed over to you."
"Although that guy with the hammer was trash and couldn't take a beating, the ships he left behind are passable."
"Take them back and scrape off all that ugly black paint for me."
"Spray them all white! And add purple stripes!"
"As you command! My King!"
Magneto's voice was full of fanaticism.
"Your subordinate will transform it into the coolest flagship in the universe! Guaranteed to make Ronan so angry he'd come back to life if he knew!"
"Hmph, if he dares to come back to life, this Emperor wouldn't mind killing him again."
Frieza yawned boredly and casually turned off the comms.
Having processed the paperwork for this batch of second-hand vehicles.
Frieza controlled the hover pod to open a portal, flying towards the blue planet on the other side.
"Now then, next..."
"Time to go home and take a look."
---
Planet Frieza 001, Earth.
When that golden egg pierced through the clouds and descended into the airspace formerly belonging to New York.
The atmosphere this city presented was enough to shock any psychologist.
Too happy.
There were no arguments on the streets, no honking, not even a trace of venting negative emotions.
Everyone.
Whether it was the Wall Street elites in suits or the street sweepers.
Wore a uniform, brilliant smile on their faces.
When Frieza's ride swept across the low sky.
Whoosh—!
Like rehearsed millions of times, tens of thousands of pedestrians on the street stopped simultaneously.
Raised their heads simultaneously, bowed simultaneously.
"Welcome home, my King! Long live the King!"
The voices converged into a tsunami, echoing over the city.
"Ohohoho..."
Frieza hovered in mid-air, looking at the utopian scene below, laughing with pleasure.
He turned his head to look at Maria Hill, who had just followed him in a Quinjet.
"Hill, it seems you've been working hard lately."
"These smiles from the heart look much more pleasing than those frowning faces from before."
Inside the Quinjet, Hill bowed slightly. (Note: The raw text says "Charles inside the fighter jet" but contextually Hill is addressed and responds. I will assume Hill is speaking as addressed).
"It is my honor to serve you, my King."
Hill spoke calmly:
"Professor X has already rewritten the emotional code of the humans on this planet. Now, happiness is working for you, joy is praising your name."
"Emotions other than these have been defined as viruses and deleted from their brains."
"Beautifully done."
Frieza snapped his fingers. "This is what this Emperor's backyard should look like."
Since home was being managed in an orderly fashion, then...
Frieza's gaze turned towards the African continent.
There lay a so-called technological power.
"Let's go, to Wakanda."
---
Wakanda, inside the Great Hall.
King T'Chaka of Wakanda, once insufferably arrogant and claiming technology fifty years ahead of the world.
Was now kneeling humbly on the cold Vibranium floor.
Because right now, Galactic Emperor Frieza was in front of him.
"Noble... King Frieza."
T'Chaka bowed his head deeply, his voice trembling:
"Wakanda... submits to you."
"We are willing to offer all our Vibranium, all our technology... we only beg you, leave Wakanda a way to survive."
"Oh?"
Frieza controlled the hover pod to land and walked out elegantly.
"Don't be so nervous, old King."
Frieza extended a finger, gently lifting T'Chaka's chin.
"This Emperor isn't some demon. As long as you are obedient, why would I kill people casually?"
"I came this time mainly because I heard your textile technology here is quite unique."
Frieza recalled Loki, Juggernaut, Sebastian Shaw...
Their white and purple combat suits were already somewhat damaged from the previous battles, and even stained with dust.
Frieza shook his head with a look of disgust.
"As the ace special forces under this Emperor, dressing so shabbily, like ragpickers... where does that leave this Emperor's face?"
"Therefore..."
Frieza looked at T'Chaka again and stated his requirement:
"I want your Wakanda, using the Vibranium you are so proud of."
"To custom-make a suit of Vibranium battle armor for every member of my Ginyu Force!"
"This..." T'Chaka was stunned.
Just this?
Descending upon Wakanda personally just for a few sets of clothes?
"What? Is there a difficulty?" Frieza's eyes turned cold.
"No! No!" T'Chaka shook his head hurriedly. "Wakanda's craftsmanship can definitely meet your requirements!"
"Very good."
Frieza held up three fingers and began to emphasize his aesthetic standards:
"Listen well, my requirements are high."
"First, defense must be strong, at least able to withstand a nuclear bath."
"Second, it must be highly elastic. After all, they have to do those... ahem, special team poses. Can't have the crotch splitting open."
"Third, and the most important point!"
An unquestionable light shone in Frieza's eyes:
"Must retain the classic white and purple color scheme!"
"Must have those pointy shoulder pads extending to both sides!"
"Since they are the strongest special forces in the universe, a walking deterrent, of course they must dress flashily!"
"Even if using Vibranium, you must give me the texture of a tight suit!"
"Understand? My old tailor?"
T'Chaka looked at this cosmic overlord with a perverted obsession for tight suits.
Although his heart was filled with absurdity, he still nodded desperately:
"Un... Understood! We will definitely reproduce it one-to-one according to your requirements!"
"Not bad."
Frieza patted T'Chaka's old face with satisfaction.
"I give you three days."
"If the clothes made have even a single asymmetrical thread..."
Frieza pointed to the massive Vibranium mine outside the window, revealing a cruel smile:
"I will throw this mountain, along with your country, into outer space to fill the sea."
T'Chaka knelt on the ground, never daring to lift his head.
His voice trembled, yet was filled with immense respect for Frieza himself:
"As you command, my Emperor. Wakanda will definitely achieve it and satisfy your requirements!"