Two days of absolute focus.
No sleep. No distractions. Only the endless cycle of gold, base, gold again.
The first revert had been agony: power draining like blood from a severed artery, the golden fire guttering out, leaving him weak, hollow, mortal.
The second time was easier.
The tenth? Effortless.
Now he could flicker between states faster than thought: base one heartbeat, Super Saiyan the next, aura flaring and vanishing like a camera flash.
No storms. No earthquakes. Just pure, perfect control.
Vegeta stood on a mirror-flat sea, studying his reflection.
Golden hair spearing upward like a crown of solar fire.
Eyes the color of tropical oceans under noon sun.
Aura hugging his body in a calm, deadly halo.
Handsome didn't begin to cover it.
He looked like a god who'd decided to dress casual.
Vegeta smirked, let the transformation drop, and felt the familiar emptiness settle in his base form.
Like putting down a weapon you were born to wield.
Every Saiyan who ever touched this power felt the same addiction. The gold wasn't a tool anymore; it was the real you, and everything else was just pretending.
Vegeta understood it better than any of them ever would.
Because he'd read the script.
The transformation was a multiplier. Fifty times base, give or take.
Which meant the stronger the foundation, the more terrifying the ceiling.
Kakarot had never figured that out until much later.
Vegeta already had.
And he wasn't stopping at fifty.
"Time to pay the old man a visit," he muttered, cracking his neck. "And remind the Earthlings who they're dealing with."
He'd felt them arrive hours ago: Krillin and Gohan suddenly spiking in power after the Grand Elder's touch. Bulma's zero-ki signature hovering nervously nearby.
Cute. They thought a little unlock made them players again.
Two new ki signatures flared on the edge of his senses: strong, familiar, and heading straight for the spire.
Sara. Dodgett.
Zarbon's leftover lapdogs, sniffing around for revenge or Dragon Balls.
Vegeta's grin turned razor-sharp.
"Perfect."
Golden light ignited around him: calm, silent, absolute.
He didn't roar. Didn't shake the planet.
He simply vanished, leaving a sonic boom that arrived three seconds late.
A golden arrow across the sky.
Destination: the Grand Elder's home.
Purpose: tie up every loose end before the main event.
Frieza had three days left to live.
And Vegeta intended to enjoy every second of the countdown.