Frieza stopped laughing.
On the bridge of his ship, the monitors showed something he did not like.
Kakarot wasn't fighting.
He was talking.
Frieza's eyes narrowed, tail curling slowly behind him.
"…No," he said softly. "I don't think so."
The ship's alarms screamed as Frieza stepped forward.
"Prepare my descent," he ordered calmly. "I'm ending this."
The clouds above Namek split apart.
A single figure descended—slow, deliberate, wrapped in a pressure so dense it crushed the air itself. No flaring aura. No screaming power.
Just dominance.
Every fighter froze.
Piccolo's breath caught in his throat. "That's… Frieza."
Valerios immediately knelt. "Lord Frieza."
Vegeta's fists shook. His golden aura flickered violently.
Broly felt it too.
Not rage.
Not fear.
Instinct.
The kind that screamed run.
Frieza touched down gently, dust barely stirring beneath his feet.
"My, my," he said pleasantly, glancing around at the ruined battlefield. "Namek really does bring back memories."
His eyes settled on Kakarot.
"And you," Frieza said, voice sharpening, "are being far too inspirational."
Frieza lifted one finger.
The ground cracked for miles.
"Talking leads to hope," Frieza continued. "Hope leads to rebellion. And rebellion…"
He smiled.
"…must be crushed."
Kakarot stepped forward despite himself. "If you want them, you go through me."
Frieza blinked.
Then laughed.
"Oh, that's adorable."
He flicked his finger.
Kakarot was sent flying, smashing through rock until he vanished into the distance.
Broly's heart stopped.
"Kakarot!" he shouted.
Frieza turned his attention to Broly.
"There you are," he purred. "The monster who thinks he can be gentle."
Broly stepped back—Flow trembling, struggling to remain intact.
"You terrify me," Frieza said casually. "Not because of your power… but because you almost understand it."
Lightning crackled faintly in Broly's eyes.
Vegeta forced himself upright. "Frieza… this ends today."
Frieza glanced at him dismissively. "Still gold, I see. How quaint."
He raised his hand again.
Piccolo shouted, "Everyone—get back!"
Frieza's energy began to gather—not explosive, not flashy.
Frieza's finger lowered.
The energy he had gathered did not fire.
Instead, it pressed.
The air thickened. The ground sank. Mountains groaned as if forced to kneel.
This wasn't an attack.
It was a reminder.
"This," Frieza said calmly, "is what ruling feels like."
Piccolo dropped to one knee, teeth clenched. The elders cried out as their barriers strained. Vegeta's golden aura flickered violently, sparks tearing away from his body like burning leaves.
Broly stood.
Not unshaken.
But unmoving.
Flow wrapped around him like a current in still water—redirecting pressure instead of resisting it. His feet carved lines into the ground, but he did not fall.
Frieza noticed.
"Oh?" he murmured. "Interesting."
Frieza vanished.
No warning.
He reappeared in front of Broly, palm already striking.
Broly moved.
The blow slid past his shoulder, redirected just enough to spare his chest. Broly countered with a precise strike aimed not to kill—but to disrupt.
Frieza slid back several meters.
Silence.
Valerios' eyes widened.
Vegeta stared, breath caught in his throat.
Frieza looked at his own hand.
Then he smiled.
"Oh… you are fun."
Broly's breathing quickened.
Flow showed him everything—but it demanded everything in return. Every movement burned clarity into his mind, stripping away instinct, emotion, and excess.
He couldn't fight like this forever.
Frieza could.
"You see the river," Frieza said, circling him. "But you're still standing in it."
He struck again—faster, sharper. Broly redirected twice, three times—
The fourth blow landed.
Broly skidded backward, coughing, Flow flickering.
Piccolo shouted, "Broly! Don't lose it!"
Frieza laughed softly. "There it is. The crack."
Vegeta forced himself upright, legs shaking.
His Super Saiyan form screamed at him—too wild, too loud, too inefficient.
He looked at Broly.
At the stillness between Broly's movements.
That's it…
Vegeta closed his eyes.
For the first time in his life, he didn't force his power up.
He let it drop.
His golden aura collapsed inward violently, shocking everyone around him.
Piccolo's eyes widened. "Vegeta—no—!"
Vegeta breathed.
Once.
Twice.
Cmon we can't fail now vegeta.
Fear of failing again.
Lightning sparked faintly behind his eyelids.
Frieza paused mid-step.
"…Two of you?" he said, amused. "How greedy."
He lifted one finger again—aimed at the sanctuary.
"Let's see who panics first."
The elders cried out.
Broly turned.
Too late.
A voice echoed from the distance.
"HEY!"
A figure streaked across the sky, battered but blazing with stubborn resolve.
"Kakarot…" Piccolo whispered.
Kakarot slammed into Frieza's attack mid-formation, just enough to spare the sanctuary.
Frieza snarled. "You're persistent. I'll give you that."
Kakarot landed beside Broly, breathing hard. "You okay?"
Broly nodded—barely.
"I remembered," Broly said. "What you said."
Kakarot smiled faintly. "Good. Because we're not done yet."
Frieza hovered above them now, aura finally beginning to show—cold, elegant, terrifying.
Vegeta opened his eyes.
For a heartbeat—
They crackled.
Not gold.
Not green.
Something quieter.
Something aligned.
Frieza's smile slowly faded.
"…Oh?"
"I've indulged this long enough," Frieza sighed.
He raised his hand.
The sky screamed.
A massive sphere of energy began forming—not rushed, not dramatic. It was meant to be unavoidable.
"This will erase the sanctuary," Frieza said calmly. "The elders. The children. The hope."
Piccolo shouted, "Everyone—get ready!"
Broly's Flow wavered violently.
Not because of Frieza.
Because he could feel it.
This attack wasn't meant to be fought.
It was meant to end.
Broly stepped forward.
"I won't run," he said quietly.
Kakarot reached for him. "Broly—"
Broly shook his head. "If I hesitate… I lose it."
He closed his eyes.
For the first time, he didn't fight the desperation.
He accepted it.
If I fail… they die.If I succeed… I may never go back.
Lightning flooded his eyes—white, silent, absolute.
The flow stabilized completely.
Broly raised one hand—not to block.
But to redirect.
The energy sphere bent.
Not away.
Around them.
The ground shattered miles away as the attack detonated harmlessly into the sky.
Silence followed.
Frieza stared.
Not amused.
Not angry.
Interested.
"…Now that," Frieza said softly, "is troublesome."
Vegeta watched it all.
Broly's stillness.Kakarot's trust.Piccolo stood even when his legs shook.
And something inside him finally cracked.
Not his power.
His pride.
"I was wrong," Vegeta whispered.
No one heard him.
"I don't need to stand above them."
He dropped to one knee.
Frieza laughed. "Giving up already?"
Vegeta clenched his fists.
"I just need to stand with them."
Vegeta felt it then.
The same current Broly stood in.
But it rejected him.
Too much control.Too much force.Too much Vegeta.
He screamed—not in rage.
In frustration.
"I've trained my whole life! I've bled for this! WHY WON'T YOU—"
Frieza appeared before him instantly.
And kicked him into the ground.
Hard.
"You mistake effort for worth," Frieza said coldly.
He raised his hand again.
This time—
Aimed at Vegeta alone.
"NO!"
Kakarot moved without thinking.
He placed himself in front of Vegeta.
Piccolo's eyes widened. "Kakarot—!"
Frieza's blast struck.
Kakarot vanished in light.
The explosion tore a crater into Namek's surface.
Smoke billowed.
Silence returned.
Vegeta stared.
No breathing.
No movement.
Just absence.
Something inside him finally, completely, shattered.
"I couldn't protect him…" Vegeta whispered.
The current returned.
Not violently.
Not loudly.
It wrapped around him like gravity remembering its purpose.
Vegeta stood.
His eyes opened.
Lightning crackled within them—not green, not gold.
Red.
Still.
Flow.
Frieza's smile vanished completely.
"…Impossible."
Vegeta looked up.
Calm.
Focused.