In the endless void of space, King Cold's massive flagship floated like a dark fortress. Inside, the throne room gleamed with steel and cold light, a fitting reflection of its ruler's nature. The towering monarch sat on his throne, his presence suffocating. Every soldier who entered the chamber bowed until their foreheads touched the floor.
Cold's long, clawed fingers tapped against his throne's armrest. His crimson eyes were narrowed. He had sent Turles and his crew to Namek with a simple order: bring me those mystical Dragon Balls. Yet… silence. No report, no success.
The echoing doors creaked open. A tall, elegant figure stepped inside, dressed in white and green armor, a flowing mane of blue hair framing his sharp face. His resemblance to Zarbon was undeniable—but colder, sharper, deadlier.
Barbon. Zarbon's elder brother, and Cold's most trusted enforcer.
He knelt before the throne. "My lord… I bring you news."
King Cold's voice was deep, commanding. "Speak."
Barbon's eyes flickered. "Turles and his men have… failed. They are dead."
Cold's hand froze mid-tap. The silence was so heavy, the air itself seemed to crack.
"Failed?" Cold's tone was ice. "I gave him a task, not an invitation to die."
Barbon kept his head low. "Reports from surviving scouters indicate two warriors arrived on Namek. One of them is Son Goku, the Saiyan who humiliated Frieza. The other… an unknown fighter. His energy was comparable, even rivaling Turles."
At that, the chamber rippled with whispers among the elite guards. The idea that anyone could rival Frieza—or Turles empowered by the Tree of Might's fruit—was almost unthinkable.
Cold raised a hand, silencing them. His lips curled into a dark smile. "So… there is another. One strong enough to crush my son's forces." His gaze sharpened. "Interesting."
Barbon straightened. "Shall I gather another force to deal with them, my lord?"
Cold's claws drummed against the armrest again. He shook his head. "No. This is beyond soldiers. This requires… family."
The room stilled. Everyone knew what that meant.
Cold's voice boomed, resonating across the chamber. "Send word to Cooler."
Gasps broke out among the soldiers. Cooler—the elder son of Cold, elder brother to Frieza. Where Frieza was arrogant and vicious, Cooler was precise and disciplined. Where Frieza was obsessed with his own supremacy, Cooler sought to refine his strength through constant evolution.
Barbon bowed again. "At once, my lord."
---
On Cooler's Flagship
A sleek, black warship cruised silently through the void, far more elegant than the brute designs of Frieza's fleet. In its core chamber, Cooler sat cross-legged, his aura pulsing faintly around him. Unlike Frieza's short bursts of rage, Cooler's power felt restrained, measured—yet terrifying.
His eyes opened as a holographic projection flickered before him. It was his father.
"Cooler," Cold's voice rumbled.
"Father," Cooler replied calmly, not bowing, not showing fear. "To what do I owe this interruption?"
Cold's eyes narrowed, though his smile remained. "Turles is dead. The mission on Namek has failed. Two warriors are responsible—one is the Saiyan who killed your brother, the other is a new fighter. I want you to eliminate them and claim the Dragon Balls."
Cooler leaned back, crossing his arms. "Hmph. Normally, I would not waste time cleaning up Frieza's mess. He was reckless. Predictable. It was only natural that someone eventually surpassed him."
Cold's smile didn't fade. "And yet… you're curious, aren't you?"
Cooler's eyes glimmered. His father was right. After one month of brutal training, after breaking every limitation his body once had, Cooler had ascended to something far beyond Frieza. He had achieved a form his younger brother never even dreamed of—Golden.
"I admit," Cooler said, his tone carrying a quiet confidence, "I've been… eager. My power has grown to heights unimaginable. Perhaps it's time I tested it. If these warriors truly defeated Turles, then they may provide a suitable challenge."
Cold's voice hardened. "Then you accept?"
Cooler smirked, his sharp teeth glinting in the dim light. "Of course. But not because you command me, Father. I go because I want to."
Cold chuckled. He knew better than to try to dominate Cooler. Unlike Frieza, who craved approval, Cooler acted only on his own pride. But that pride was what Cold needed now.
"Then go," Cold said. "Show the universe what a true heir of Cold is capable of."
The hologram faded. Cooler rose slowly, his armor gleaming. He walked to the viewing deck, watching the stars blur past. His hand clenched into a fist.
"Frieza… you were a fool. You rushed, you relied on fear, and in the end, you fell." His voice dropped to a low growl. "But I am not you. I am Cooler. Stronger. Smarter. Perfected."
A golden shimmer flickered briefly across his skin, his aura flaring with divine power before vanishing again. His lips curved into a cold smile.
"Namek, here I come."
---
Back on Namek
Meanwhile, on the green world itself, Goku and Rudra stood among the ruins. The three Dragon Balls they'd secured shimmered faintly beside them.
Rudra glanced up, his instincts prickling. "Something's coming."
Goku looked at him. "You sense it too?"
Rudra nodded slowly. "A presence… vast. Controlled, but heavy. Whoever it is, they're not like the soldiers we just fought. Not even like Turles. This one… feels colder. More dangerous."
Goku clenched his fists, a mixture of excitement and unease flashing across his face. "Then we'd better be ready."
The green skies above trembled faintly as a distant point of light streaked toward Namek's atmosphere.
---
Cooler was on his way.
And this time, the battle would decide far more than just Dragon Balls. It would decide the very balance of power in the universe.