My Dragon Ball Ascension

[Proto Man]

Frieza didn’t know what happened to his brother, but when he returned to the tournament grounds he was surprised to see that Coola had seemingly vanished without a trace. As the frustration boiled within his hate-laced veins, the changeling slowly slipped into the shadows. Even though he was consumed with an overwhelming urge to eradicate the entire audience and all the combatants, he figured that his survival was a lot more important than letting his brother once again drive him to vulnerability.

Leaving the tournament behind him, the transformer slowly trudged along as he wandered without any actual intent on his mind. For a period of time, there was noting but the breathing of the white-skinned prince and the crunching of dead leaves and branches beneath his boots. Frieza was sickened by the lack of available skulls to break as he meandered about the endless grove of trees and bushes.

After about an hour or so of milling about without an actual purpose, the changeling temporarily exited the forest and stepped out into a rather open clearing. For about a sixth of a mile, he could see nothing but a sea of rolling grass, but tranquility was something that Frieza didn’t trust. The planets that were under the subjugation of his father’s dynasty also feigned such peaceful behavior before they instigated another one of their fruitless insurrections.

Rolling his eyes at the serene, unmolested panorama that lay before him, the snide prince gallivanted forward with his eyes constantly surveying the areas to his left and right. The wide, open space was perfect if someone wanted to surround a target—and Frieza did not want to be the topic of some gay assassination attempt. After all, what’s it worth being murdered if your homeworld won’t even acknowledge who you are?

The thought caused the white-skinned transformer to giggle a little bit as he made his way toward the opposite end of the clearing. With a final glance behind and around him, the prince slipped back into the dense forest and shrugged his shoulders. Maybe he was prone to being a little too paranoid sometimes? Fortunately for Frieza, he rarely thought too much on any given situation, and with a shout, a masked figure leaped down from a nearby vine and unsheathed an assassin’s dagger.

“Predictable!” The prince hissed through his jagged canines as the human moved forward to assail him. Pressing an offensive of his own, the changeling darted forward and chopped the deadly weapon from his attacker’s hand. As the assassin reeled back in shock, but the masked warrior forgot one important thing going into the battle—he was trying to murder Frieza, prince of the planet Frost.

With a swift motion, the transformer snapped the neck of his foe and let the lifeless corpse collapse in a heap before him. It was seriously starting to irritate the illustrious warrior that the inhabitants of this planet were so ridiculously weak when compared to him. Lifting the body off the ground by the neck, Frieza used his other hand to unceremoniously decapitate the already deceased man with a final punch.

The impact tore through the flesh of the assassin’s neck and sent his head rolling off his shoulders and onto the dirty with a sickly thud.

It took a few minutes for the changeling to muster the desire to stop watching the fountain of blood that sputtered out of the man’s severed neck, but eventually Frieza managed to wrench himself away from the bloodshed with the overwhelming desire to do something new. Heaving the rather bloodied corpse through a nearby tree, the transformer took a step forward and avoided the large trunk as it came swinging down—a victim of gravity’s unstoppable power.

Ignoring the scene behind him, Frieza trekked onward until he came to what appeared to be a path through the forest. Turning to the left, the changeling made his way down to the dirt trail and soon realized, by the markings on the sides of the road, that he was traversing a trail left behind by some type of vehicle.

Under the guise that the path would undoubtedly leave him from the wooden area he had moronically strolled into, Frieza sprinted down the path. After a short while, he emerged near what seemed to be a misbegotten cabin erected rather close to the vehicle tracks. Ignoring the strange structure initially, the transformer resumed his impromptu journey through the wilds.

It wasn’t until he heard the bloodcurdling, feminine scream that the white-skinned prince was compelled to look back over his shoulder at the structure. Any moron with ears could easily trace the pleasing cries back to the log-based abode, but what piqued Frieza’s attention so much was the prospect of who was behind the verbal agony. After all, they could be someone after his own heart, or they may be some amusing, momentary competition. With a murderous glint in his eye, the transformer turned around and started toward the structure/