Dragon Ball: Emperor Frieza

Reached 10 stones, here's the bonus chapter!

Next: 25

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The Lookout was steeped in silence, the weight of Frieza's overwhelming power pressing down on everything. Dende stood frozen, eyes wide with fear as he stared at the fully restored tyrant before him. Frieza's transformation back to his organic form had amplified his aura, now burning like a sinister beacon of destruction. His red eyes gleamed with cruel amusement as they locked onto Dende's trembling form.

"You know what I want," Frieza's voice dripped with venom, cold and authoritative. "Summon the Dragon Balls. Now."

Dende's heart raced. His hands were slick with sweat as fear gripped his soul. He was powerless to refuse the command. The Z-Fighters, Earth's last line of defense, had been annihilated in a blink, their energy signatures snuffed out by Frieza's devastating attack. There was no one left to protect the Earth from this nightmare. The young Guardian felt despair wash over him as he took slow, shaky steps toward the Dragon Balls.

The golden orbs lay gleaming on the Lookout's platform, their usual glow tainted by the dark presence surrounding them. Frieza's soldiers, standing nearby, watched with predatory eyes. Dende glanced at Mr. Popo, who remained silent, his face grim with resignation. He knew there was no stopping this now.

"Well?" Frieza's impatience cracked through the tension like a whip. "Do it, Namekian."

Swallowing his fear, Dende raised his hands over the Dragon Balls, beginning the ancient chant that would summon the Eternal Dragon. His voice, though steady at first, wavered slightly as the words of the ritual filled the air.

"Shenron, by your name, I summon you to appear and grant my wish!"

The sky above darkened almost instantly, black clouds rolling in as if the very heavens were reacting to the malevolence brewing below. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and the air became thick with electricity. From the swirling darkness, a bolt of lightning struck the platform, and the mighty form of Shenron emerged, coiling around the Lookout. His massive, glowing red eyes fixed on Dende, who stood before him with trembling hands.

"I am the Eternal Dragon," Shenron's deep voice echoed across the sky, reverberating with power. "Speak your wish, and it shall be granted."

Frieza's lips curled into a satisfied smirk as he stepped forward, his gaze never leaving the immense figure of Shenron. The power in the dragon's voice was palpable, but Frieza was unfazed. He had orchestrated this moment perfectly.

"Shenron," Frieza began, his voice calm but commanding, "reveal to me the exact location of the Cerelian Dragon Balls, the ones capable of granting ultimate power."

Shenron's glowing eyes narrowed slightly as he processed the request. The air crackled with tension, but he did not hesitate. "The Dragon Balls of Planet Cereal lie within the Cerelian system, orbiting the third sun of the Trivi constellation. The coordinates are as follows..."

As Shenron listed the precise coordinates, one of Frieza's soldiers, a wiry alien with quick reflexes, hurried forward with a datapad, recording every word. The dragon's voice faded after he finished, and a palpable silence fell over the Lookout. Frieza's smile widened. He now had the exact location of the Cerelian Dragon Balls.

"Your wish has been granted," Shenron boomed, his body shimmering before dissolving back into the darkened sky. The once-glowing Dragon Balls now lay dormant, their energy spent. The sky slowly cleared, the storm dissipating as Shenron disappeared.

Frieza turned his cold gaze toward Dende, who had fallen to his knees, exhaustion and fear washing over him. The Guardian of Earth had never felt more powerless. He had just delivered the key to Frieza's next conquest, and the weight of his actions bore down on him like a crushing wave.

"Good work, little Guardian," Frieza's voice was laced with cruel amusement. "You've proven useful. I may even let you live, for now."

Dende's eyes filled with despair. Frieza turned away from him without a second glance, already focused on his next move. He strode confidently toward his ship, his soldiers rushing to follow him. The hum of engines filled the air as Frieza's flagship prepared for departure.

"Prepare the ship for immediate travel," Frieza commanded, his tone brooking no argument. "We're going to Cereal."

His soldiers snapped into action, their faces filled with a mix of awe and fear. They had seen Frieza's rebirth and knew that his power now far eclipsed what it once was. Failure would not be tolerated, Frieza was at the height of his dominance, and they would do anything to avoid his wrath.

As the ship lifted off, its massive form disappearing into the horizon, Dende sat in silence, staring at the now-stone Dragon Balls scattering around the world. His heart sank deeper into despair, the weight of his actions pressing on him like never before. The Earth had been left defenseless, and now Frieza was on his way to claim an even greater source of power.

"I've failed them," Dende whispered, his voice filled with sorrow. His hands trembled as he placed them over his face. The thought of Goku, Vegeta, and the others being wiped out so effortlessly played on a constant loop in his mind. He had witnessed countless battles, but never had the future seemed so bleak.

Mr. Popo, who had remained quiet during the entire exchange, placed a comforting hand on Dende's shoulder. His face, though serious, carried a hint of reassurance. "Dende, there may still be a way," Popo said quietly, his voice steady despite the fear that gripped them. "The Earth has endured many threats before."

Dende looked up, desperation written across his face. "But how can we stop him? Goku and Vegeta are gone. And Frieza… he's more powerful than ever."

Popo's expression remained calm, though his eyes carried the weight of the situation. "There is always hope," he said softly. "We may not see it now, but something will come to pass. We just have to hold on."

As Frieza's ship became nothing but a distant dot in the sky, the Lookout remained silent, the wind sweeping across the platform as if mourning the loss of Earth's mightiest defenders. The Dragon Balls, now lifeless, offered no comfort. The Earth stood on the brink of destruction once again, and its fate now rested in the hands of something, someone, yet to be revealed.

Frieza, now on his way to Planet Cereal, sat within the command center of his ship, his fingers tapping lightly on the armrest of his throne. His smile had not faded since hearing Shenron's words. The coordinates of the Cerelian Dragon Balls were locked into the ship's navigation system, and soon he would lay claim to the power they possessed.

"At last," Frieza whispered to himself, his eyes glinting with excitement. "The final piece of the puzzle."

His laughter echoed through the ship, chilling his soldiers to the core.