The wind howled across the plateau, whipping up sand and dust that filled the sky.
Mecha Frieza stood on the desolate rocks, coldly sweeping his completely metal mechanical eye over his surroundings. Over the past year, every day, every second, he had endured the agony of his body being rebuilt. The festering and searing pain where machinery joined flesh constantly reminded him of the utter humiliation he had suffered on Namek.
"Frieza, my son." King Cold slowly walked down, gently swirling a goblet, his voice languid and cruel. "Since those two Saiyan monkeys have yet to arrive, why not do as you said and use the screams of every living creature on this planet as the salute to welcome them?"
"Heh heh heh... I was thinking exactly that, Father." Frieza curled his cold mechanical lips into a twisted smile of pleasure, then turned and ordered the grunts behind him, "Go. Kill every Earthling you can see nearby. Do it slowly. I want Kakarot and Chen He to see corpses everywhere the moment they land!"
"Yes, Lord Frieza!" The alien soldiers shrieked as they drew their laser guns, just about to scatter and fly off.
Whoosh—
A sudden sound of something tearing through the air rang out in midair without warning.
It was a boy wearing a short purple jacket, a broad-bladed longsword strapped to his back. He had short light-purple hair, and his eyes were cold and deep, carrying a kind of vicissitude and weight utterly at odds with his age.
"Who are you?!"
Before several grunts could react, the boy's figure blurred, and the longsword on his back was already out of its sheath at some unknown moment. Only several crescent-like streaks of icy sword light were left in the air. Before they could even scream, dozens of elite