Chapitre 3: Chapter 3: A Cold Departure
The vast, silent expanse of space was punctuated only by the slow hum of the engines aboard King Cold's flagship. Inside the colossal vessel, deep within its gleaming corridors, Frieza stood at the viewport of his personal chamber. His arms were clasped behind his back, his reflection in the glass mirroring his contemplation. The stars stretched out endlessly, distant and uncaring, much like his own thoughts as they lingered on his current state.
His newly reconstructed body, half flesh, half metal, was a reminder of his failure, but also a symbol of his impending revenge. He flexed his cybernetic fingers experimentally, watching as they responded with perfect precision. His strength had been restored, but something about the synthetic limbs gnawed at him. They were efficient, powerful, yet cold, lacking the fluidity of his natural form.
Frieza's red eyes glimmered as he thought about the future. His father had plans, no doubt. But they weren't his plans.
Footsteps echoed through the chamber as the door slid open behind him. Frieza didn't need to turn to know who it was. The familiar presence of King Cold filled the room, his towering figure casting a long shadow across the floor.
"You've recovered well," Cold said, his deep voice a mixture of pride and command. "It's time we begin rebuilding the empire. Together, we can sweep across the galaxy, and no one, especially those accursed Saiyans, will dare oppose us again."
Frieza's gaze didn't shift from the stars, though his expression hardened. The prospect of teaming up with his father grated on him. It wasn't that he doubted King Cold's strength, on the contrary, his father was a formidable force, one of the most powerful beings in the universe. But Frieza had no interest in sharing his glory or relying on anyone, even his father. His plans were bigger than that.
"I have no intention of rebuilding anything with you," Frieza said, his voice sharp, though quiet. "I will do this my way. Alone."
Cold's brow furrowed at his son's words, though he remained composed. "You are not yet at your full potential, Frieza. This body, though it has made you stronger, still requires refinement. Together, we can ensure the galaxy trembles under our rule once more. If you go out there alone, you risk everything again."
Frieza finally turned to face his father, his red eyes gleaming with an icy determination. "You underestimate me, Father. I've learned from my failures on Namek. I've gained... new insights, and with them, I will surpass even your expectations. But I do not need your assistance."
King Cold's golden eyes narrowed slightly. "What insights could you possibly have gained that would make you think you can do this alone? You were defeated once. It will happen again if you act recklessly."
The silence between them grew heavy, and the tension was palpable. Frieza was patient, but he had no desire to stand and argue with his father over what was already decided. He could see Cold's concerns as nothing more than a hindrance. His father's methods were archaic, too focused on brute strength and intimidation. Frieza's ambitions went beyond that. Far beyond.
"I intend to train," Frieza finally said, his voice measured. "I have forces that remain loyal to me, remnants of my army. I will regroup with them and return to my base to prepare. The universe is filled with threats, far greater than even you realize. I need to face them head-on, in my own way."
Cold's frown deepened. "You're rushing into this, Frieza. There's no need for haste. Let us strategize. Your new body still needs time-"
"My body is fine," Frieza interrupted, his voice now carrying an edge of impatience. "What I need is to refine it further. I can sense the power within me, but there are... limitations." His gaze darkened. "I'll rid myself of those in time. Alone."
Cold took a step closer, towering over his son. "I am not suggesting you wait because I doubt your strength. I am suggesting it because I know the stakes. You are walking a dangerous path. If you fail again, there will be no one to pick up the pieces."
Frieza's lips curled into a thin, mocking smile. "If I fail again, there won't be any pieces left to pick up."
King Cold's eyes flashed with something akin to anger for a moment, but he quickly quelled it. "Very well, Frieza. If you are so determined, then I won't stand in your way. But know this, there are no second chances this time."
Frieza turned back to the viewport, his smile fading into a cold, calculating expression. "I don't intend to need a second chance."
The conversation ended there. Cold turned sharply and left the chamber, the door sliding shut behind him with a quiet hiss. The moment he was gone, Frieza's eyes gleamed with satisfaction. His father's empire, once great, was now crumbling. The remnants of what King Cold had built were weak, scattered. But Frieza had no intention of simply taking over his father's fractured empire. He had his own vision, and it stretched far beyond what Cold could comprehend.
Frieza clenched his mechanical fist, feeling the power surge through his arm. Yes, the universe would tremble once again. But this time, it would be under his command, his control. No one else's.
....
Hours later, Frieza stood in the main hangar of Cold's ship. The sound of engines powering up echoed throughout the chamber as his personal ship was prepared for launch. A group of soldiers, those who had survived the chaos on Namek and remained loyal, stood at attention, waiting for his orders.
One of his lieutenants, a tall, horned alien named Kiruk, approached, bowing low before speaking. "Lord Frieza, the ship is ready. Our remaining forces have been assembled, and we are prepared for departure on your command."
Frieza's red eyes flicked over the troops. They were fewer than before, but those who remained were strong, loyal. They had proven themselves worthy of continuing to serve him. He nodded once, satisfied.
"Excellent," Frieza said softly, his voice carrying an air of finality. "We will leave immediately. Return to my base and prepare for what's to come. The universe has forgotten who I am. We'll remind them soon enough."
Kiruk bowed again, stepping aside to relay the orders. The soldiers moved with precision, boarding the ship without hesitation. Frieza turned to face the ship as the engines roared to life. The hum of power was almost soothing to him.
He stepped onto the ship's ramp, casting one final glance back at his father's vessel. King Cold had been a necessary presence in his life, but Frieza knew that this was where their paths diverged. His father's concerns were irrelevant now.
As the ramp closed behind him and the ship lifted off from the hangar, Frieza's mind shifted to what lay ahead.
....
The journey to his personal base was swift and uneventful. Hidden deep within the farthest reaches of the galaxy, the base had been one of Frieza's most well-guarded secrets. Tucked away beneath the surface of a desolate, forgotten planet, it had remained untouched during his absence.
As the ship descended through the planet's atmosphere, the base came into view, a massive structure embedded into the side of a towering cliff, with spires that reached into the sky. The dark stone walls gleamed faintly in the light of the distant star, casting long shadows across the barren landscape.
The hangar doors opened with a mechanical hiss, and the ship touched down smoothly on the cold, metal floor. Frieza stepped out, his boots clinking softly against the steel as he surveyed his surroundings. Everything was as he had left it, cold, precise, and orderly.
Frieza's forces quickly disembarked, moving to their respective stations without a word. This base was a fortress, designed for one purpose: to allow him to plan and prepare without interruption.
But there was no time to waste.
Frieza made his way through the corridors, his mind already turning toward the next phase of his plan. The memories left behind by the otaku had given him valuable insight. Earth still had its Senzu Beans, and Goku remained a threat, albeit a manageable one. But before any of that could be dealt with, there was one critical task that needed his attention.
His new body, while powerful, still felt foreign to him. He needed to master it, to make it truly his own.
Frieza entered the training facility deep within the base. The chamber's walls were reinforced to withstand incredible forces, and the gravity in the room could be adjusted to push his limits. As the door sealed behind him, Frieza stood in the center of the room, the cold air biting at his skin.
"Let's see what this body can really do," he muttered to himself, a cold grin spreading across his face.
With a flick of his wrist, the gravity in the room multiplied, and Frieza began his training.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone