Today was it, the time that many civilizations had waited for for generations. They had told stories to their children and their childrens children, that one day they would be free. That the great terror that enslaved them and destroyed their culture would one day be no more. The iron fist that held the galaxy by the throat would fade away. Finally, after hundreds of years of terror, it was going to happen.
In a few days time, Lord Frieza...King Frieza was going to die.
There was a bittersweet note however, as he was going to die in a way that nobody would have suspected. Even a demon such as he, was not immune to the ravages of time. Most would prefer that he die at the hands of a great warrior, not peacefully in his bed...But beggars can't be choosers.
While Frieza had spent decades trying to defeat the opponent of old age, seeking out all manner of different sources, none of them had been successful. But the strange thing was, the aged Arcosian tyrant was fully embracing death.
As he grew older, he began to accomplish all the things he would ever wish for. He had achieved things that no other being would ever match. He owned the galaxy, he had become more powerful than anything had any right to be, and his empire was starting to seep into the four other galaxies. Soon the Planet Trade would encompass the entire universe.
Why would he wish for an eternity, when there was nothing more for him to do? In addition, ruling a galactic empire was such stressful work, often not even worth the bother. So many problems to sort out, always having to deal with sycophants and traitors, and having to put up with dull things like the economy.
His children, and their children, they could all feel free to squabble over the scraps of his empire. Whoever came out on top between them, well dealing with the dullness of absolute power was all theirs. He'd welcome that, anything was better than dealing with the drama himself.
Frieza was going to die. But not before he finally told his story.
The Arcosian royal palace, a solid white pyramid that loomed over every structure that surrounded it, each side marked by a purple disc akin to the bio-gems that dotted Frieza's body. Akridah's shuttle flew through the air of the domed capital city, heading for the peak of the pyramid, a deployable landing ramp opening up for his bulky craft.
The robotic pilot set the vermilion shuttle down on the landing pad, and Akridah wasted no time getting out of the craft. He was a tall fellow with unblemished pink skin and a shaved head. He was one of the best known Imeckian authors in the entire galaxy. He was both flattered and terrified that Frieza wished for him to record his story, he just wished the tyrant could have brought him to a less-frigid planet to do this...
Akridah gave his thanks to his pilot and then jogged into the palace itself, breathing a small sigh of relief to himself when he realised there was proper heating here. He loosened up the tight collar of his flowing lime green coat, fixed up the belt on his obsidian trousers, and then kept moving into the palace.
As the Imeckian strode in, he was suddenly approached by a lanky unsealed Arcosian. This fellow had a soft, somewhat feminine face akin to Frieza's, however he seemed to be even more spindly and his cheekbones protruded more. His skin was a pale grey shade and the bio-gems on his body were a deep navy colour. He was dressed in a sleek suit of charcoal-coloured battle armour, with an undersuit of a slightly lighter shade.
"P-Prince Sleet, a-an honour to meet you in person." Akridah stammered out quickly.
Sleet cocked his head and silently inspected this alien before him. His tail swished slowly back and forth and his lips pursed outward. "Ah." he said after a few moments of silence "You are the biographer my father wishes to see. You have decent prose and notoriety, so I suppose you shall do an adequate job recording his majesty's tale. Follow me."
Akridah nodded meekly and wasted no time following the eldest of Frieza's offspring. The royal family were known to be rather impatient, and Akridah was certain that these folks viewed him as very expendable.
They strode past guards and rushing doctors through the clean steel corridors. Some of the only people allowed into the palace right now aside from Frieza's surviving relatives. After all, he didn't want the galaxy at large to see him in his weakened state. Akridah was the exception, and he honestly didn't know how to feel.
Even withered and aged, Frieza would likely be able to kill him with the laziest flick of his wrist, so he could hardly gloat. Still, the knowledge that the great tyrant was bedridden and slowly dying in great pain brought him some happiness.
One thick metal door slid open before the two, revealing the aged Arcosian. Frieza had always been short (Even if saying so aloud would lead to Frieza cutting your legs off.) but now his age seemed to have shrunken him. He was so short, almost like a child, and pruned like a raisin from his wrinkles. Several tubes and machines were hooked up to his ivory body, monitoring his vitals and doing most of the work his organs would normally handle.
For anyone else, being seen in such a state would be humiliating and demeaning...yet as much as Akridah hated to admit it, Frieza carried a regal elegance and a sense of stoicism that allowed him to maintain a sense of dignity.
Frieza turned his head slightly on his plump pillow, his red eyes locking onto Akridah's own. "Ah yes, the writer. Sleet, you may leave us." he said with a dismissive gesture of his gnarled hand. Sleet bowed stiffly in response, and then left with a visibly annoyed expression on his face. "You, boy, come closer and take a seat. I'd rather not raise my voice."
Akridah complied, hurrying over and taking one of the chairs at the tyrants bedside. He took a data tablet and a touch pen from his belt pouch, ready to start writing. "I read through some of your other biographies you know. Good work. However I mainly chose you to do this because I didn't want some droning Arcosian ass-licker singing my praises at every opportunity. I only have a few days left according to these doctors, and I can't-" Frieza stopped, trailing off into a fit of coughing and phlegming. He collected himself after a few moments and then he spoke again "Can't waste time listening to them worship me..."
"O-of course your highness." Akridah replied, looking away swiftly. "Would you like to begin now? Other biographers have covered much of your early life, yet you've remained tight-lipped about what went on in the Namek conflict and what happened immediately after. And you are the only living soul who can tell us about that period."
"Indeed." the aged Arcosian said. A wry smile covered his face for a brief moment before quickly fading away again. "I suppose I should start by describing the final battle on Namek. A grizzly conflict that truly allowed me to get to where I am now...Yes, it was on that day that I killed the Super Saiyan...Or rather, the first Super Saiyan I would ever kill."
"Son Goku was his name, correct?" Akridah asked, already scribbling down a few notes. Frieza had made a point of archiving the names of every single Saiyan he had ever killed. After all, the genocide of the Saiyan race was the lord of the galaxy's greatest the one he spoke of the most often, at least.
Frieza seethed for just a moment, and then he spoke up again "Yes...Goku. That was the one..." he remarked bitterly. "The monkey I hate the second most in all the universe...Goku was the first of those 'heroes' to fall at my hand..."
A/N: Well well well, not too long as far as first chapters go. Still, I think it's a good starting point for what's to come.
This idea came to me now that my other story 'The Fall of Lord Frieza' is coming close to its finale. This story is going to be the polar opposite of that one, where Frieza becomes even more monstrous and everything in the Dragon Ball universe takes a turn for the worst.
I should also say that this story likely won't be updated as often as my other stories, depends if it becomes popular also won't run on as long as my other stuff. For the sake of my sanity I'll be ending this story at...well around the Cell saga. I won't do Buu, the Buu-era movies, or any GT content. M'kay?
I've learned my lesson from the first Frieza story I did, don't let shit drag on.
Also, while I should hope this is obvious to you all, the Z-fighters are all gonna die. Usually in grizzly ways. So, yeah, if you're not a fan of heroes being killed or villains winning, then this will not be the story for you.
And that's about all that comes to mind that's worth mentioning. Next chapter will show up...some time in the future.