I really appreciate your guys support and stones.
Your mother is saying l should stop telling you our private matter.....but l can't help it.
Your Mum is just too good.
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.
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Sorry.
///
Frieza stood still, eyes locked on the distant seam of space where Beerus was tearing his way back. He could see him the entire time—every violent ripple of ki, every furious correction in trajectory—yet even at one hundred percent base power, Beerus was late.
Ten seconds. That was all it had taken for Frieza to punch a God of Destruction from the far edge of the North Sector to the graveyard silence of the South.
And now it would take Beerus five full minutes to return, screaming through the void like an injured star.
He was moving faster than light—yet somehow his voice arrived first, raw and feral, ripping straight into Frieza's ears.
"FRIEZA— I WILL KILL YOU!"
Frieza didn't flinch. Didn't brace. Didn't even raise his guard.
He watched the oncoming rage with the mild disappointment of a Man watching someone jump of a building due to depression.
"You're overestimating yourself, Beerus" Frieza said softly, almost kindly.
The moment Beerus entered striking range, Frieza moved.
Not a punch.
Not an attack.
A Slap
Frieza's hand moved sideways through the air with surgical contempt.
No wind-up. No flourish. Just a flat, open palm meeting Beerus' face.
The sound wasn't a crack.
It was a detonation.
Space buckled outward in a perfect ring. Stars warped. The void screamed as Beerus' skull snapped to the side, his cheek caving inward, divine flesh deforming under mortal force.
The shockwave erased moons that had been minding their own business light-years away.
Beerus' eyes went blank mid-roar.
His body followed his head a heartbeat later.
He didn't fly.
He was smeared across existence—dragged laterally through space, carving a glowing scar that stretched until the eye could no longer follow it.
When he struck the barren planet, it didn't explode.
It failed.
The surface folded like wet clay. The planet compressed inward, layers collapsing as Beerus' body skipped once—twice—then vanished straight through the core.
A delayed thunderclap rolled outward as the world finally gave up and shattered into drifting debris.
Behind Frieza, Whis finally lost all composure. He doubled over, one hand clutching his stomach, the other barely holding his staff as laughter spilled out of him, bright and uncontrollable.
"Fufufufu— hahahah! How utterly ridiculous!" Whis gasped. "I never imagined I would live to see Lord Beerus… slapped."
Frieza's hand remained extended.
He flexed his fingers once.
"Hmm," he said softly to himself. "Too much force. I meant to reprimand him, not rearrange him."
Frieza then glanced back at Whis who was laughing his ass off, eyes half-lidded, amused and said.
"A punch would have implied effort," he replied. "That would have been dishonest."
"And do try to breathe, Whis," he said. "I'd hate for you to perish from laughter before the real spectacle begins."
Far in the distance, Beerus' aura flared again—ragged, unstable, burning hotter than before but no longer clean. No longer divine.
Frieza turned back toward it.
His smile sharpened.
"Come now," he murmured. "You're a God of Destruction."
His eyes darkened.
"Destroy something that matters."
---
Beerus drifted in the void, pain ringing through every atom of his being like a cracked bell. Space itself felt cold against his skin—not temperature, but judgment. How had it come to this? The question gnawed at him as his breath came shallow and sharp.
Then memory answered.
Frieza's face—desperate, humiliated—begging for ten days.
Ten.
Beerus had scoffed then. He had been magnanimous.
A god indulging an insect's final wish.
Confidence masquerading as mercy. He had granted it because he could afford to be kind.
Now he floated among the bones of a planet and understood the truth with perfect clarity.
Arrogance.
His own.
He clenched his claws, the void trembling in response. "Because of Frieza," he snarled, the words scraping out of his throat. Because he had mistaken inevitability for invincibility. Because he had believed the universe would always bend before him.
Beerus drew himself upright and settled onto a jagged slab of rock—the last remnant of a world that no longer existed. His ears flattened. His eyes burned.
Then he roared.
A sound without language. Without restraint. A god screaming his refusal to end.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHYAMETE KUDASAI !"
The void ignited.
Hakai energy detonated outward in violent waves—purple-black lightning crawling over his skin, carving glowing fissures across his body like living scars.
His frame thickened, muscle stacking upon muscle, each fiber forged under the pressure of annihilation. His chest expanded, ribcage flaring as if to contain a star on the verge of collapse.
His eyes flared molten gold—no pupils, no mercy—twin suns burning with absolute destruction.
Flames erupted behind him, not fire but unmaking: violet infernos laced with gold, devouring light itself. Space warped around his silhouette, reality bowing as if afraid to look directly at him. Every breath he took erased something distant—an asteroid, a moon, a possibility.
This was not restraint.
This was Beerus, God of Destruction, fully unveiled—wrath given form, balance abandoned, judgment incarnate.
Image of Beerus form:-
He rose from the rock, power rolling off him in suffocating tides.
"Stand proud, Frieza…" he growled to the emptiness, voice layered with thunder and oblivion. "You were not the only one who could push me this far."
Somewhere across the universe, Frieza smiled.
And the universe held its breath.
Beerus didn't travel—he arrived.
Space folded inward and he was suddenly there, knee already rising, packed with enough Hakai to erase a solar system mid-thought.
The strike was cruel, efficient, godlike—aimed straight for Frieza's face, meant to end the conversation, the war, the mistake.
For a fraction of a heartbeat, it looked inevitable.
Then Frieza bent.
Not a step back. Not a guard. His spine arched impossibly, body flowing backward like liquid mercury, the knee missing his chin by the width of a breath—a hair's mercy.
The displaced air alone cracked the chamber and screamed past Frieza's throat.
Beerus' eyes went wide.
He was in his Destroyer Form now—nothing restrained, nothing held back.
This wasn't the crude imitation Toppo had flaunted in the Tournament.
This was mastery. Hakai clung to him like a second skeleton, purple-black energy breathing, thinking, hungry. Reality recoiled around his limbs.
And Frieza had dodged it.
Casually.
No Golden glow. No transformation. No escalation.
Just movement.
That realization hit Beerus harder than any punch.
Despair seeped in—cold, invasive. The kind gods weren't supposed to feel.
The kind that told you, with perfect clarity, that the board had flipped while you weren't looking.
If Beerus were still mortal, he would've shited himself right then.
A bitter thought crossed his mind—unfortunately, divinity had stripped him of that particular release. Of course… he could always turn the function back on.
But there was no time for humor.
Frieza straightened, smoothing his posture as if nothing had happened, eyes calm, amused—predatory.
Beerus understood then.
This wasn't a fight anymore.
This was a reckoning.
And he had a feeling that he wasn't going to be coming out of this alive.
///
Should l release two chapters simultaneously.
Yes gang l NEED IT.
nah uh.
400 ps and l would.