Chapter 35: A Path to Power

Bojack and his crew stood in the dimly lit command room of Frieza's flagship, the cold metal floors reflecting the quiet hum of the ship's systems. Bojack's muscles tensed, his arms crossed as he gazed at the massive control screens displaying star systems and ongoing conquests. His crew stood at his sides, still rattled by their recent awakening and the realization of just how far behind the universe they had fallen.

Frieza stood with his back to them, his compact form silhouetted against the vast window that displayed the expanse of space. The silence was unnerving, and Bojack, never one for patience, finally broke it.

"What is it that you want from us, Frieza?" he asked, his voice hard. "You freed us, but to what end? What mission are we to carry out for you?"

Frieza, his arms clasped behind his back, did not immediately respond. His posture remained calm, almost dismissive. After a few moments of silence, he finally spoke, his voice cold and measured. "You and your crew have been locked away for centuries. Your power, while notable, is a relic of a bygone era."

Bojack's eyes narrowed, the insult stinging his pride, but he kept silent.

Frieza continued, "The universe has changed, Bojack. New powers have emerged, battles you cannot begin to comprehend have been fought, and the balance of power has shifted. You and your crew, while strong, are not equipped to face the forces of the modern universe. Your strength is unrefined, your ki uncontrolled. In my empire, only those who master both power and discipline rise to prominence."

Bojack's fists clenched, his anger rising, but he knew better than to interrupt Frieza. The pirate had witnessed enough of Frieza's power to understand his place, at least for now.

Without turning, Frieza continued, "Before I can send you on any significant mission, you and your crew will need to become at least one hundred times stronger than you are now."

A stunned silence filled the room. Bojack and his crew exchanged uncertain glances. One hundred times stronger? The very idea seemed impossible. But Frieza spoke with absolute certainty, as though it were not a challenge, but an expectation.

Bojack's eyes narrowed. "And how exactly do you expect us to achieve that?"

Frieza turned, a cold smile on his lips, his crimson eyes gleaming with amusement. "I have plans for you, Bojack, but you are far from ready. My general will oversee your training. When I believe you are capable, we will speak again."

Bojack opened his mouth to protest, to demand more answers, but before he could utter a word, Frieza's form began to shimmer. The pirate's eyes widened in shock as Frieza's body flickered and then dissolved into a faint wisp of energy.

It was a clone.

"Of course," Bojack muttered to himself, his hands tightening into fists. He had been speaking to an illusion the entire time. The real Frieza was elsewhere.

As the clone vanished completely, General Zokar stepped forward. The tall, imposing warrior, clad in black armor, had been standing silently to the side the whole time, observing the interaction with cold detachment. "Follow me," Zokar commanded, his voice emotionless. "Your training begins now."

Bojack glared at the general but said nothing. He knew they had no choice. If they were to regain their freedom and power, they would need to play by Frieza's rules. For now.

The group was led down the cold metallic halls of the flagship toward the training chambers, their thoughts filled with uncertainty and a newfound determination. Bojack was not one to submit easily, but he knew that Frieza's empire was unlike anything they had faced before. If they were to survive, they would need to become stronger, much stronger.

....

Meanwhile, deep within the confines of his private meditation chamber, the real Frieza remained seated, his body completely still as he focused inward. His mind was a storm of energy, his ki swirling in a tight, controlled vortex within him. Several clones, identical in form but each tasked with a different aspect of his training, floated around him.

His primary focus was clear: the formation of God Ki. His training had already allowed him to master the manipulation of his own energy, compressing it beyond the atomic level, but merging it with his spirit remained an elusive task.

Frieza gritted his teeth, his eyes tightly shut as he forced his ki into a singularity smaller than anything he had previously attempted. The energy compressed, growing denser, purer. It shimmered, glowing brightly within his mind, but every time he attempted to merge his spirit with it, the energies destabilized.

One of his clones flickered as it struggled to hold the fusion, and with a sharp burst of light, the ki and spirit dispersed. The clone vanished in an instant.

Frieza's eyes snapped open, his crimson gaze sharp and focused. He had failed again. The fusion of ki and spirit was proving to be far more complex than he had anticipated. But he was not deterred. The path to godhood was a difficult one, but Frieza was nothing if not patient.

As his remaining clones continued their tasks, Frieza's thoughts turned to other matters. The galaxy was falling under his rule, but there were still remnants of power scattered across the universe, remnants that could either serve him or be destroyed.

One such figure was Turles, the Saiyan rogue who had long pursued the Tree of Might's fruit, a legendary source of power. Frieza had kept tabs on Turles, knowing that the Saiyan could either be a useful pawn or a potential threat.

Frieza extended his senses, searching for Turles' location. His energy surged as he used Instant Transmission, appearing in a flicker of light in front of Turles, who stood deep within a dense jungle, searching for clues to the fruit's location.

The rogue Saiyan froze in place, his eyes wide in shock as Frieza materialized before him, his form radiating power despite the lack of any visible aura.

Turles' heart pounded in his chest as he instinctively stepped back, caught completely off guard. Frieza, with a cold smile on his face, simply folded his arms across his chest and stared down the rogue Saiyan.

"We need to talk," Frieza said, his voice dripping with authority.

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