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At the same time—
A small, unremarkable space pod streaked across the sky and crash-landed at the docking zone on Planet Vegeta.
The hatch hissed open, and Bardock stepped out, covered head to toe in dried blood.
Planet Meat wasn't far from Vegeta; a round trip took less than two days, one if you flew straight through.
"Finally… home."
Thanks to the healing serum and special medicine he'd taken—and the Saiyan body's insane regenerative ability—Bardock's fatal wounds had completely recovered. More than that, his strength had gone far beyond anything he'd ever reached before.
After a single day of rest and the lingering aftereffects of that desperate burst of power, his battle level had skyrocketed to a new, terrifying peak.
30,000.
The sheer force radiating from him filled Bardock with absolute confidence.
He didn't know how he'd broken through to this level. All he knew was that this power—this feeling—was truly his.
As he strode across the landing zone, people turned to stare. The crew on duty nearly froze; even among injured warriors returning from missions, no one ever looked like this—soaked in blood, eyes burning like fire.
When the workers tried to ask questions, Bardock ignored them completely.
He didn't have time for this. He knew none of them meant well—and right now, he had only one priority: find King Vegeta and figure out what the hell was going on.
For the past hour, his scouter's communication link had been dead. The worst possibility haunted him—what if the King and the elite squad had already made their move… or worse, been wiped out?
He pushed forward. Suddenly, a familiar sharp pain stabbed through his skull—the aftereffect of that cursed "Future Vision" technique. His knees buckled as a new vision burned into his mind.
He saw it—Planet Vegeta… engulfed in Frieza's attack… exploding into nothingness.
"No!!"
Bardock gasped awake, drenched in cold sweat.
That voice—the voice of that damned Kanassan—echoed again in his head:
"Now you'll understand what it feels like to face extinction… powerless to stop it."
Bardock's breathing turned ragged.
"The future… won't be like that! I'll change it—no matter what!!
"Not just for me… for Gine, for Raditz… for Kakarot and Harry… The Saiyan race will not end like this!"
He clenched his fists so hard they trembled. He would rewrite their fate with his own hands.
He stormed into the royal palace—his bloodstained figure drawing gasps from every guard in sight.
But when he realized King Vegeta wasn't there—and that none of the elite warriors could be contacted—his heart sank.
"The prophecy… it's all happening. Frieza must be right above Planet Vegeta right now…"
The thought hit him like a gut punch.
He'd been too late to see it until now.
Grinding his teeth, Bardock sprinted out of the palace and into the capital's busiest district. His destination—the largest entertainment hall on the planet.
Every Saiyan knew this place: where the powerful and wealthy came to blow off steam.
Whether you were elite or low-class, if you could afford to drink here, it meant you'd earned your share of battle glory.
But today, glory didn't matter. Bardock came here for one reason: power. In Saiyan society, wealth and combat strength went hand in hand—and he needed fighters who could actually do something.
He burst inside, found familiar faces, and poured out everything—his battle with Frieza's men, the truth about Frieza's plan to annihilate them all.
No one believed him.
They laughed. Some mocked him outright.
To them, it sounded like a bad joke—a bloodied, delirious lower-class soldier talking about the great Frieza betraying them? Impossible.
"You idiots…" Bardock's voice cracked, his fury spilling over. "You hopeless bastards!!!
"You'll all die—right here in your precious damn bar!!"
He turned and stormed out, the others' laughter following him down the street.
…
At the very top of the royal capital's tallest spire, Bardock stood alone, barely keeping his balance.
From the club to here had taken only ten minutes—but to him, it felt like an eternity.
His vision pulsed again and again, overlapping with flashes of the future until he could barely tell what was real.
He saw it all—the destruction, the faces, the fire.
And then… twenty years ahead.
He saw them.
Harry—grown tall and strong.Kakarot—his son.
Facing Frieza.
"Harry… Kaka… rot…" Bardock whispered, shaking.
He reached toward them, wanting so badly to touch their shoulders, to call out—but the vision dissolved before his fingers could reach them.
He sucked in sharp breaths, trying to steady himself.
"No… that's not how it ends… The Saiyans' fate… will not be this!!"
His roar echoed through the empty sky.
He would not accept this destiny.
Power erupted from him like a wildfire, heat and light wrapping around him, forming a blazing shield.
He had one goal left—Stop it all. Kill Frieza.
With a deafening boom, Bardock shot into the heavens, a streak of white-gold fire tearing through the clouds.
Nothing could stop him now.
…
Beyond Planet Vegeta.
Inside his massive ship, Frieza watched the planet below through reinforced glass, smirking.
From this angle, the world of the Saiyans looked tiny—like a marble sitting in his palm.
"Well… I think I've seen enough of this planet," Frieza said casually, reclining back into his floating pod. "Time to erase it from my sight."
Cold. Unfeeling. The true emperor of the universe.
Behind him, Zarbon and Dodoria exchanged glances, silently preparing for departure.
But before they could leave the control deck, a sudden shout came from one of the pilots.
He'd picked up a high power level—heading straight toward them.
"A Saiyan?" Zarbon raised a brow.
Dodoria leaned closer to the screen—and froze.
"That face… It's him! The Saiyan from Planet Meat—the one I killed!"
Impossible. He'd crushed that worm himself.
"How could he still be alive?!"
Zarbon chuckled softly. "You got careless, Dodoria."
Dodoria's face turned pale as sweat beaded on his forehead.
He didn't answer—too terrified to even move. One mistake in front of Lord Frieza… could mean death.
"..."
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