The air over Welfareza-002—formerly known as Xandar—rippled with a deep blue shimmer.
A tall, perfectly proportioned figure stepped gracefully out of the void.
Two meters tall.
The height of a god.
Frieza glanced down at his own feet, then lifted his gaze to scan the horizon ahead. For the first time, he didn't have to tilt his head back even slightly to take in the world. The feeling put him in an excellent mood.
"Nice air," he remarked.
"Ever since those Nova Corps buzzkills stopped buzzing around yelling about 'justice' and 'protection,' the air quality on this rock has gone way up."
Hands clasped behind his back, Frieza floated effortlessly ten thousand meters above the surface—no golden hover-pod needed. He was suspended there purely by the sheer, ocean-deep pressure of his own power.
His crimson eyes cut straight through the clouds to the ground below.
Sure, Apocalypse, Magneto, and the rest of his demolition crew had already taken the fleet deep into space to claim new territory.
But down here? Everything was running like clockwork.
Massive holographic billboards floated above the cities, looping footage of Frieza in all his majestic glory.
On the streets, aliens of every color and species—now dressed in identical gray-white uniforms—stood in perfectly straight lines, quietly collecting their daily ration packs.
No arguing.
No riots.
Not even a whisper.
Every single face wore the exact same smile: the eight-teeth-baring, Professor-X-calibrated expression of pure, programmed bliss.
"Praise the Great King! Today is a day full of hope!"
"Thank you, Great King, for granting us the right to live!"
The chants rose in perfect unison, a massive wave of sound punching straight into the sky.
"Oh ho ho ho…"
A flicker of satisfaction passed through Frieza's scarlet eyes.
"So this is what they mean by 'self-motivated workforce,' huh?"
"Gotta hand it to that bald old telepath—Charles really knew his stuff. Even with him gone, the crops are growing nicer than ever."
This was exactly the kind of asset he wanted: self-sustaining, self-producing, not requiring him to waste a single second on micromanaging.
"Looks like Welfareza-002 is running perfectly…"
Frieza straightened his collar, ready to open another portal and check on the next stop—maybe swing by Hala in the Kree Empire.
Then, without warning, the bright sky went dark.
Not the usual storm-cloud darkness.
This was a suffocating blackout, like something absolutely colossal had just parked itself between the planet and the sun.
"Hm?"
Frieza's brow arched. His red eyes sharpened.
He slowly looked up.
Just beyond Xandar's atmosphere, out in the cold void of space…
Six burning red points of light—each radiating terrifying energy—stared down at the tiny planet like six angry suns.
No.
Not suns.
Eyes.
As his vision zoomed out, an overwhelmingly massive figure came into focus.
A giant.
A metal colossus in dark crimson armor, tall enough to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the planet itself.
It just hovered there in orbit, its shadow swallowing half of Xandar.
The ancient, monumental presence rolling off it felt even heavier than the one Galactus had given off right before Frieza punched him into cosmic dust.
The Celestials.
"Well, well…"
Frieza stared up at the mountain-sized intruder.
There wasn't a trace of fear on his face—just the irritated frown of someone who'd been personally insulted.
"I finally get my height dialed in at a perfect six-foot-six, feeling pretty good about myself…"
"And the next thing I know, this oversized tin can shows up?"
"Is this supposed to be some kind of joke?"
Right on cue, the red giant opened its mouth.
No sound traveled through the vacuum.
Instead, a massive psychic wave slammed brutally into the minds of every living thing in the system.
BOOM.
"Mortal Frieza."
The voice was cold, mechanical, completely devoid of emotion—like the universe itself reading out a verdict.
"I am the Judicator known as Gammenon the Gatherer, servant of Arishem the Judge."
"You have disrupted the natural evolution of this cosmos."
"You unlawfully eradicated a foundational entity: the Devourer of Worlds."
"You have illegally altered the rightful ownership of the Infinity Stones."
The crimson Celestial slowly raised one hand—a palm larger than Xandar's entire capital city.
It closed into a fist, as if ready to crush Frieza and the surrounding space in one squeeze.
"By decree of the Celestial Host…"
"Your crimes are classified as Extinction-Level."
"Surrender immediately, disarm, and accompany me to the World-Forge for judgment."
"Resistance will result in immediate erasure."
The words hit the brainwashed citizens below like ice water. Their programmed smiles stayed frozen in place, but their bodies started shaking uncontrollably—pure instinctual terror of a higher-dimensional being.
But up in the sky, Frieza?
He started chuckling.
"Pfft…"
He covered his mouth, shoulders trembling.
Then the chuckle grew into full-blown, manic laughter.
"Oh ho ho ho ho… HAHAHAHAHA!"
He was practically crying with amusement, pointing up at the towering red Celestial like it was some bad comedian bombing on stage.
"Judgment?"
"Erasure?"
"Oh my, someone's got a big mouth."
Frieza's laughter cut off instantly. His expression turned ice-cold.
Raw, murderous intent poured out of his crimson eyes like a physical force.
"Let me ask you something…"
"Do all you oversized walking scrapheaps have the same annoying habit?"
"Standing way up high and talking down to people?"
Frieza slowly raised his right hand.
He didn't tap into the Infinity Stones.
Just the pure, apocalyptic energy of his final form began swirling madly in his palm.
"That idiot Galactus did the same thing."
"And now you, you red-painted junkyard reject, are pulling the exact same stunt."
"Has no one ever taught you manners in front of a universal emperor…?"
BOOM!!!
Frieza vanished.
The next instant, he teleported straight outside the atmosphere—right in front of the Celestial's massive faceplate.
Size-wise, Frieza was less than a speck of dust compared to it.
But the roaring purple aura blazing around him shoved back the Celestial's oppressive presence like it was nothing.
"Who gave you permission to look down on me?!"
Frieza's voice rang out, sharp and furious.
His seemingly tiny fist—packed with enough raw power to shatter star systems—slammed dead center into the spot between those six glowing eyes.
KRA-KOOOM!!!!!
A thunderous, muffled impact exploded in the vacuum.
The red Celestial—thousands of miles tall, a living god in armor—its enormous head actually snapped backward from the blow.
A hairline fracture even spiderwebbed across the supposedly indestructible Celestial alloy.
"Now get down here and talk like a normal person!"