Dragon Ball Alternative

~ At the Same Time: Battlefield ~

Frieza instantly reacted to Gohan's sudden burst of speed.

The tyrant tossed Vegeta aside as if discarding searing coal, then exploded backward to gain distance. At the same time, Frieza unleashed his telekinesis at full power, wrapping the invisible force around Gohan to disrupt his advance and slow his momentum.

In the next instant, Frieza's hands gripped Gohan's upper arm, and his tail coiled tightly around the young Saiyan's waist.

And Gohan's Ki blade was forced to a screeching halt just inches from Frieza's left eye.

A charged silence hung between the two as they locked eyes in that position. Gohan's gaze remained sharp, steely, and observant as he studied Frieza's increasingly smug face. Just as the corner of Frieza's mouth began to twist into a smile, Gohan struck.

Without a single sound, the Ki blade in the young Saiyan's hand extended like the Power Pole straight toward Frieza's left eye.

In the sliver of a millisecond before the attack struck, Frieza was already instinctively closing his eyes—though just barely, by a mere centimeter. But that slight movement made all the difference.

Instead of a direct hit, Gohan's Ki blade grazed the edge of Frieza's eyelid and trailed across to his lateral canthus, leaving behind only a faint scratch.

For Gohan, the result was rather disappointing. Even with the enhanced power from the Kaioken, his Ki blade still lacked the brute force needed to penetrate Frieza's formidable Ki Forcefield beyond a shallow cut. However, had his strike landed directly on Frieza's eye, the outcome might have been drastically different.

Meanwhile, Frieza's grip tightened, his eyes hardening. Though the minor cut didn't hurt him, it had been dangerous. Also, the small wound was a reminder of another infuriating pest—and that alone irritated him.

With a snarl, Frieza freed one hand from Gohan's arm and gathered energy for a Ki blast aimed straight at the boy's chest. His intent was clear: to annihilate Gohan in a single, point-blank shot. But before he could release it, two heavy blows slammed into him from both sides simultaneously.

A green fist crackling with crimson energy smashed into Frieza's liver from the side, while a booted foot connected with the back of his head.

Piccolo and Vegeta had coordinated their attack flawlessly, striking exactly when Frieza was vulnerable—his hands and tail were preoccupied with Gohan—and saved Gohan from a lethal blow in the process.

Frieza's body jolted from the impacts, and his snarl transformed into a furious roar. His eyes flashed as he redirected his Ki blast downward instead, detonating it against the ground. The ensuing explosion threw Gohan, Piccolo, and Vegeta violently away from Frieza in all directions.

For a moment, the area was shrouded in a thick plume of soot. Frieza remained standing at the epicenter, waiting for the lingering pain in his liver from Piccolo's punch to fade. As the cloud began to clear, his piercing red eyes located Piccolo, who, to his surprise, was back on his feet.

Although Piccolo was obviously not fully recovered, he was mysteriously back in fighting condition—a mystery that Frieza resolved to solve another time.

A quick glance to his right gave Frieza a clear view of the battlefield.

Vegeta was crouched low, snarling as he recovered from his tumble. Nearby, Gohan appeared to have just caught something tossed his way and had dropped to one knee beside Krillin's unmoving form. The young Saiyan seemed to be pushing whatever he caught into Krillin's mouth.

Frieza sneered at the scene and dismissed them all as lesser threats, as weaklings living on borrowed time—hardly worth his attention. The Namekian, in contrast...

Frieza's muscles tensed as he shot himself across the battlefield, focused solely on the Namekian, who had dared challenge him again. He was upon Piccolo in an instant.

"You should've stayed down, Namekian," Frieza hissed.

The tyrant's limbs became a blur as they rained down blow after brutal blow.

Piccolo, still under the boost of Kaioken, initially tried to dodge and block, but Frieza's sheer speed overwhelmed him easily. Within seconds, Piccolo was violently beaten out of his Kaioken form.

With a dark grin, Frieza lunged forward and grabbed both of Piccolo's arms. Horror flashed in Piccolo's eyes when he realized what was about to occur—but it was too late.

Frieza yanked Piccolo's arms and ripped them off his body in a spray of purple blood.

Piccolo's screams could be heard from miles away as he collapsed to the ground, armless.

"Now, now. No need to be so dramatic," Frieza chided with a light smile as he carelessly incinerated Piccolo's arms, having learned his lesson. "I was under the impression your kind could regenerate these? And since we're on this topic, let's conduct a little experiment—let's see how many times I can tear them off before they stop growing back!"

Frieza's eyes suddenly flicked to the side, catching movement in his peripheral vision. Still smiling, he looped his tail around Piccolo's neck, swinging him around to use as a shield just as a Masenko arrived before him.

Piccolo roared in agony as the blast struck him squarely between his shoulder blades.

Frieza chuckled at the Namekian's pained screams, then raised him higher with his tail. With deliberate sluggishness, Frieza seized both of Piccolo's legs and tore them off as if they were mere twigs on a branch. Purple blood splattered as Piccolo screamed, more anguished than any he had ever released before.

But Piccolo could hardly be blamed, as in just two merciless moves, Frieza had reduced him to a limbless torso.

"LET MR. PICCOLO GOO!!!"

Gohan's furious shout rang out as he streaked across the clearing; his aura ignited with the energy of the Kaioken and the crackling electricity of the Stormforged Mantle.

But without the element of surprise, Gohan simply wasn't a threat to Frieza.

Frieza spared Gohan a single, contemptuous glance and, with a cruel smile, raised a hand to better deploy his telekinesis.

Gohan was instantly slammed into the ground mid-flight, the pressure driving him deep into the earth as if an invisible hand were mercilessly crushing him. The soil gave way as Gohan's body was pressed inch by inch deeper into the dirt.

At first, Gohan resisted, pushing back with every ounce of strength in his small frame. He managed to raise his head and shoot Frieza a defiant glare.

The tyrant merely laughed at the act of defiance and pointed downward. A moment later, the crushing pressure intensified tenfold.

Gohan's head was forcefully slammed back into the dirt with a heavy thud. Moments later, a sickening crack echoed as Gohan's ribs gave way, causing both the Kaioken and the Stormforged Mantle, which had once blazed wildly, to flicker and die.

Gohan opened his mouth to scream, but no sound escaped, muffled by the earth as dirt filled his mouth.

Even then, the overwhelming pressure continued to escalate, burying Gohan alive as it forced him even deeper into Namek.

Frieza's eyes shifted to Vegeta, who stood frozen in place, paralyzed. The Saiyan prince's wide-eyed stare revealed a rare crack in his typically stoic demeanor.

But Vegeta couldn't be faulted either; after all, Piccolo had been far more powerful than he was.

Frieza's lips twisted as he lifted his hand, conjuring a Death Beam directed straight at Vegeta's heart. Just as he was about to pull the metaphorical trigger, he paused. His eyes glazed over, unfocused, not fixating on anything in particular.

Curiously, a strange ache throbbed at the tender spot on his cheek.

Then, understanding washed over him, and a slow, malevolent smile filled with sadistic anticipation spread across his face.

"Ah, so you've finally decided to return for your friends!" Frieza cackled, his eyes moving toward the horizon as his instincts warned him of an approaching enemy. "Perhaps the third time shall indeed be the charm!"

The Death Beam intended for Vegeta was abruptly redirected skyward. With a flick of his tail, Frieza flung aside Piccolo's mangled body and began to rise, laughing maniacally. As he ascended, the ball of purple energy in his hand swelled, turning a fierce orange.

The Supernova expanded quickly, growing larger by the second. Frieza's cackles reverberated as the colossal sphere of destruction took shape, eventually becoming a blazing sun powerful enough to annihilate the planet and all life on it.

Frieza eagerly scanned the horizon as he hovered in the sky. It didn't take long for a distant figure to come into view, steadily approaching. He suddenly blinked in surprise when he spotted a small Namekian child flying toward the figure from behind a far-off hill.

What an amusing oversight that he hadn't noticed the child hiding there all along. But it hardly mattered now; everyone else was insignificant compared to his true target.

Frieza's gaze shifted back to the approaching figure, and his grin widened with recognition. It was indeed Ajax—the one who had dared to make him bleed. Frieza knew exactly what to do next: he would unleash an attack so devastating and all-consuming that there would be no chance of escape.

If Ajax evaded, his friends—and the entire planet—would be consumed in the blast. If the planet was destroyed, so was everything on it. If Ajax didn't evade, he'd be obliterated, reduced to nothing along with anything caught in the Supernova's path. This was exactly the kind of trap Frieza favored—a perfect no-win scenario.

"Dodge, and they all die," Frieza murmured to himself in delight. "Stay, and you die!"

He ascended further as the Supernova expanded, his red eyes gleaming with malicious joy at the impossible choice he had presented to Ajax.

This is the consequence for those who flew too close to the sun.

Frieza's laughter echoed, unhinged, like that of a mad god.

***

Mushin was afraid.

He had never been brave—not like Nail. Nail was the one who charged into danger, facing threats without a moment's hesitation to save the day. Mushin, however, had never been like that.

He had always been the child who hid behind the Elder's legs, peeking out at the world with wide, frightened eyes—a scared child through and through.

Even now, he hadn't shaken his fear of Frieza. The tyrant's suffocating presence still lingered in his memories, haunting him whenever he thought of him. The memory of Frieza's merciless eyes was seared into his mind, and just the thought of that demon was enough to send a shiver down his spine.

So when big brother Ajax had asked him to stay hidden, Mushin had felt nothing but relief—relief that he wouldn't have to fight; relief that he wouldn't have to face Frieza; relief that he wouldn't have to be brave. His aniki's one request had been simple: stay out of sight, no matter what. Mushin had clung to that command like a lifeline.

He had been so, so grateful.

Mushin had been so immensely relieved when he saw his aniki approaching from the distance. The relief was so overwhelming that, in his excitement, he broke the one rule Ajax had given him: stay hidden, no matter what. He just couldn't help it—he had rushed out from his hiding place.

Mushin immediately used his ability, reaching out and connecting with Ajax through a thread of Ki—just as they had practiced countless times. He felt the link take hold and knew that his aniki now had access to the Zone. In that brief moment, Mushin felt a surge of pride—he was helping. He was useful.

But the pride he'd felt evaporated almost instantly. The second he met Ajax's eyes, he saw only horror—a deep, visceral horror that made Mushin's heart plummet. Something was terribly wrong.

He followed his older brother's gaze skyward and saw it: the sun—or what looked like one—falling down. No, it had actually already fallen.

Except, the attack wasn't aimed at Ajax or Mushin. In fact, it wasn't even heading toward them at all.

Because Frieza had aimed it at Namek.

In seconds, the searing Supernova was so close to the ground that the very air seemed to combust. The heat was unbearable, distorting the space around it and painting the landscape an ominous orange as if the planet itself were melting away.

Instinctively, Mushin dove behind Ajax, trembling, even though the Supernova wasn't directly above them. His heart pounded wildly, his small body shaking as though the sky itself was falling. And in a way—it was.

Though Mushin couldn't see it, electricity crackled sharply from Ajax's eyes as he raised his arms, snarling with the strain of slowing the colossal Supernova's descent from afar.

To Mushin's amazement, the enormous sphere of energy actually began to decelerate, its momentum stalling as it inched downward more gradually.

But just as Mushin dared to hope, dared to believe they might survive, he caught a flicker of movement through the shimmering heat waves. A blur, fast and terrifying, was hurtling toward them.

His heart froze, his body stiffening with dread as realization struck him like a blade of ice.

Frieza.

The tyrant was coming. And he was closing in fast.

Frieza halted mid-air, hovering just ten feet away, and pinned his icy stare on Ajax. The tyrant raised a single hand.

Mushin's heart raced as he watched Ajax wheeze sharply, his body locked in place. He'd seen this before—Frieza's telekinesis, an invisible grip that crushed its victims at will.

"I must admit, stalling one of my Supernovas from afar is quite impressive," Frieza said lightly, "but I'm thoroughly disappointed by this simplistic, heroic act of selflessness. Didn't anyone tell you, Ajax? Heroes die young." The tyrant's fingers curled, tightening the unseen grip around Ajax. "I somehow expected more from you, but you failed to deliver. I was actually quite looking forward to seeing how you'd wriggle your way out of this."

Frieza raised his other hand, and a new sphere of energy began to form in his palm—a deep black orb threaded with crackling orange lightning that made the very air tremble. It was smaller than the Supernova, but its lethality was unmistakable, even to a blind man.

"It seems this is your limit," Frieza mocked. "So, once again, goodbye—and good riddance."

Mushin's gaze flicked to Ajax, who stood tense and unmoving, muscles taut as they strained against the crushing telekinetic force. His jaw was clenched tight, teeth gritted as he simultaneously fought to keep the Supernova at bay. The massive sphere of energy idly floated down like a balloon; its descent slowed for now, but barely.

Ajax's interference was all that stopped it from plummeting, and Mushin knew that if his aniki were to let go for even a moment, if he lost even an ounce of focus, the Supernova would resume its descent again.

But in exchange, his big brother couldn't protect himself—not while holding the Supernova at bay.

A sudden tightness gripped Mushin's chest.

Oh. This was it. To save everyone, his aniki was going to die.

Then, as Frieza's Death Ball floated above his outstretched hand, poised for release, something clicked within Mushin.

It was like the final piece of a puzzle falling into place—an epiphany that felt both startlingly new and as if it had been there all along, just waiting for him to find it.

At that moment, Mushin understood something that had eluded him—something that had confused him for a long time.

Before he even realized it, his body had moved on its own. The young Namekian bolted forward, his heart thundering in his chest, but this time there was no hesitation, only determination. The fear was still there—crippling, suffocating—but something else had taken root within him as well.

"Mushin, don't!" Ajax's warning fell on deaf ears. Ajax bellowed, his aura flaring violently, and the enormous Supernova slowed further, coming to a stop—but Mushin's small figure was already beyond his reach.

Mushin…had always dreamed of being a hero. Ever since he'd first heard of Nail—the bravest warrior of his time—it had been his greatest wish. Nail's unflinching courage, his steady resolve in the face of any foe, had become Mushin's goal. Nail had embodied everything Mushin aspired to be: unshakable, invincible.

He had always wondered how Nail could be so fearless—and if a scaredycat like him would ever be the same someday.

But now, rushing toward the shadow of a power so colossal it could erase their world, Mushin understood something about Nail that had never occurred to him before:

Heroes weren't fearless. They were afraid—just like he was. And yet, even with that fear, they chose to act. That's what made them heroes.

Nail... probably had been scared too.

However, for Mushin thus far, whenever he'd been tested, every time he'd needed to act, fear had always won.

On the day his village was destroyed—the darkest day of his life—terror had paralyzed him. He couldn't move, couldn't speak, unable to even cry out as Frieza ruthlessly destroyed everything and everyone around him. His legs had shaken, his throat seized, and he'd felt so small, so powerless, when Frieza's cold, merciless gaze fell upon him.

That same terror had controlled him when his aniki had fought that red-skinned warrior. Mushin had watched from the shadows, hidden, as Ajax endured blow after blow. But no matter how desperately he wanted to help, his body refused to respond. Every muscle had locked up, paralyzed by memories of Frieza and his overwhelming fear.

But this time would be different.

Because this time, it wasn't about being fearless—it was about moving forward in spite of it. If he didn't act now, he would never again have the chance to be a hero. If he hesitated, his big brother would die.

So, Mushin decided—he would save something.

Even if it meant sacrificing everything.

With all the strength his small body could muster, Mushin leaped in front of Ajax, placing himself between his hero and the Death Ball.

Mushin knew, in that instant, that he wouldn't survive. He knew this was his end. But none of that mattered because this was his moment. This was what being a hero meant.

Mushin thrust his hands forward, calling on everything he had—all his energy, his magic, his soul, his very life force. His whole being ignited with power beyond his limits as he poured every last bit of himself into one final act—not to stop the attack because he knew he couldn't—but to divert it.

To buy his aniki one more chance, one more breath, one more heartbeat.

Mushin had always dreamed of being a hero.

Today, he will try his damnest to become one.

But even with all his strength, the attack struck before he had the chance to fully brace himself. The searing blast tore through his hands, ripped through his chest, and carved a hole through his small frame. Mushin felt agonizing heat radiate through him, but he couldn't scream—not enough of his lungs remained to make such a sound.

"MUSHIN!!"

His aniki's shout confirmed his success. With every ounce of strength and resolve he possessed, he had managed to alter the attack's angle. Mushin wasn't sure by how much, but it was enough, and that's what mattered.

In truth, it wasn't much—perhaps a slight five-degree tilt at most—but that, combined with Ajax's Zone-enhanced external Ki manipulation, was enough for the Death Ball to whizz past Ajax's face.

Mushin was slipping away, his life ebbing like sand through an hourglass. He floated down like a feather, gravity gradually tightening its grip bit by bit as the world around him blurred into a soft haze of colors. Yet, even as he felt himself fading, he managed a weak smile as he gazed up at Ajax with all the respect and admiration he could muster.

'Aniki... I knew,' he whispered in his mind, reaching out to Ajax through telepathy. 'I knew your promise... that we'd all survive... that we'd win... was a lie. Just something to make me feel better.'

'Mushin, it wasn't a lie... everything—'

'It's... okay. I... I understand,' Mushin interrupted with a smile, his telepathic voice barely more than a soft whisper carried by the wind.

The effort of mentally speaking those words drained the last of Mushin's strength. His slow descent turned into a sudden, heavy fall as the ground rushed up to meet him.

He crashed into the ground with a thud, his small body crumpling against it. Blood pooled beneath him, forming a dark purple stain against the vibrant greens and blues of the landscape. Mushin's eyes grew distant and unfocused, as if he were already gazing into another world.

His lips moved, forming words that were nothing more than silent shapes, completely inaudible. 'Was... was I a hero?'

Ajax's heart twisted painfully in his chest.

"You are, Mushin. You are a hero."

But Mushin didn't seem to hear him. His fading gaze was lost somewhere far away, staring into an abyss invisible to the living. His voice emerged as a fragile, quivering whisper, like a leaf caught in a breeze.

"I'm... scared, big b-brother..."

Then, with a final shudder, Mushin's small body went still as the last remnants of life slipped away from him.

Mushin died.

***

How cruel reality could be, Ajax thought bitterly. Just as he had begun to treat others for who they truly were, to see them as more than just storied figures—more than mere allies or enemies with roles to play—reality had chosen to strike. It felt as if the universe itself was mocking him, testing the very foundations of his newfound understanding in the most ruthless manner possible.

Then, as if to confirm the young Namekian's death, the Zone began to slip away from him, albeit slowly.

He nearly let out a bitter laugh as he looked down at Mushin's bloodied form. Mushin's skin, once a vibrant green, now appeared sickly and washed out, like faded strokes on an abandoned canvas. The young boy's eyes remained open, locked in a gaze of fear.

Just hours ago, Ajax had looked into those very eyes and promised that they would win—that every one of them would survive to see another day. He had spoken those words with conviction because he intended to keep them.

That was why he had left Mushin behind to face Jeice, and then again for Frieza. He had a promise to uphold, and he knew all too well just how terrified Mushin had been.

The truth was, because of the Dragon Balls, Ajax hadn't actually broken his promise yet.

But Mushin didn't know that.

So, in a way, Ajax already did.

And that fact burned.

Above Ajax, Frieza's cruel laughter sliced into his ears like a serrated blade.

"Ohohoho, what a delightful expression you have! It's the first time I've seen it. I had no idea you'd become so attached to that little green worm." Frieza's voice oozed delight as he drifted lazily in the air and watched Ajax with predatory eyes.

Just ten meters away, Ajax's arms shook as he continued to hold up the Supernova, which was finally beginning to inch upward. But despite Frieza's taunts, Ajax didn't look up. His hair hung low, obscuring his eyes as he stared at Mushin's still form, as if by staring long enough, he could sear the image of his broken promise into his very soul.

Frieza continued to jeer with a lazy smirk, for once unconcerned at being ignored.

"Oh, come now—no need to look so down. He wasn't much use, was he? Really, you should be thanking me; I've saved you the trouble of dragging that useless little fool around."

Frieza chuckled darkly, his tail swaying lazily as a muscle in Ajax's face twitched.

"Oh? Touched a nerve, have I?" Frieza sneered. "Don't worry, I will make sure you reunite soon. In fact, I think I'll finish you off the same way I nearly did when you ran from me like a coward a few days ago. Do you remember that?"

Suddenly, Ajax's body jerked as Frieza's telekinesis clamped around his neck. Frieza's telekinesis was as oppressive as ever, aiming to snap his neck like a twig.

However, despite the terrifying force, Ajax's neck didn't move, not even an inch.

Frieza's brows arched in mild surprise, but he only tightened his telekinetic grip further, channeling more of his power into the attack.

"A pathetic little Namekian, thinking he could be a hero. But in the end, all he did was die pitifully and in vain. Like I said, heroes die young."

Frieza laughed.

And that was the breaking point.

Something inside Ajax snapped, and his eyes shot up, locking onto Frieza with a fury that scorched the air between them. An inferno raged within his eyes, but his face—his face was cold—a mask of ice that revealed none of the wrath boiling inside.

His heart beat loudly in his chest. However, it wasn't the rhythm of liberation that played, a song of freedom, but instead the drumbeats of war—a call to arms within a roar of rage.

It had been a long time since Ajax had truly wanted to kill someone.

His eyes flashed coldly as he extended his own telekinesis, and suddenly Frieza staggered, snarling as he felt a sudden, invisible grip tightening around his neck.

The two stood in a lethal deadlock, glaring into each other's eyes as the air around them crackled and popped from the violent collision of their will. High above, unnoticed by Frieza, the Supernova began to ascend, gaining speed as it drifted farther from the ground.

Frieza's snarl deepened in response to Ajax's humiliating retaliation. With a flick of his wrist, the tyrant conjured another Death Ball, identical to the one that had just killed Mushin. His blood-red eyes bore into Ajax, filled with malice and the burning desire to finally put an end to this insolence.

But, even staring down a Death Ball, Ajax remained devoid of emotion. Instead, he only growled one word.

"Kaioken." 

And suddenly, the world was awash in red.

A furious crimson aura exploded from Ajax's form as the raw power of the Kaioken coursed through his veins, flooding his muscles with unimaginable strength. The telekinetic grip around his neck shattered instantly—like delicate glass crumbling beneath the weight of a mountain.

With monstrous speed, Ajax lunged toward Frieza like a comet blazing through the night. His fist, coated in shimmering silver energy, glowed with the fiery crimson of the Kaioken. Time seemed to stretch, elongating the moment into an eternity as the mere ten meters between him and Frieza vanished in the blink of an eye.

Ajax's fist crashed into the Death Ball, not just deflecting the attack but driving right through it. The swirling mass of destructive energy disintegrated under the sheer force of his strike, bursting on impact. Though the Death Ball detonated around his fist, it didn't slow Ajax down at all. The fiery red aura of the Kaioken served as a Ki shield that dispersed the energy of the explosion as his fist continued onward.

And then his fist slammed into Frieza's gut.

For a fleeting moment, the world held its breath in silence.

In the next instant, the concentrated force of Ajax's Pinpoint Impact ignited. The energy compressed was unleashed at that moment, exploding outward and amplifying the impact's power exponentially.

A shockwave erupted outward in concentric circles from the point of impact, sending a tremendous blast of kinetic energy in every direction. Massive fissures split the ground beneath them as the earth buckled and fractured. Mountains that had stood for millennia collapsed into heaps of rubble, while the very clouds in the sky were swept aside, parting like wisps of smoke to reveal the boundless expanse beyond.

Frieza's eyes bulged as the punch tore into him with unimaginable ferocity. His mouth opened in a soundless gasp as blood spewed forth, some of which spilled onto Ajax's cheeks. The sheer force of the blow bent the tyrant's body inward, contorting his once-untouchable form. Then he was violently hurled backward, crashing through hill after hill, mountain after mountain, far into the distance.

And then—silence.

In the stillness, Ajax remained where he had delivered the blow, standing alone. On his cheek, Frieza's blood sizzled as it evaporated in the heat of his fierce red aura. But his eyes, those blazing eyes, remained locked on the distant cloud of dust where Frieza had vanished.

Then came a final growled whisper:

"Times thirty."

***

Power Level:

Ajax (Base): 1,150,000

Ajax (Kaioken ×30): 34,500,000