Vitelli finally slips the leash—only for a single, meaningless collision in deep space to freeze his future in place.
The ship's shrill alert pierced the darkness like a needle.
Vitelli's consciousness—dragged through six months of deep hibernation—was ripped back into the world by force.
His pod lid slid open with a low hiss. Cold air rolled in, carrying that familiar recycled-metal scent mixed with coolant and sterile fluid.
He blinked against the dim lighting—and the first thing he saw was the pod beside him opening as well.
Vegeta.
The prince struggled upright, then snapped his furious glare straight onto Vitelli. Six months of suppressed rage burned in his eyes—rage that hibernation hadn't softened at all.
"You—!"
The humiliation of being knocked out before departure hadn't faded.
It had fermented.
But Vitelli only gave him a brief, indifferent glance, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly—as if he were looking at a noisy child throwing a tantrum.
Then he stepped out of his pod and walked past.
No explanation. No argument.
Just… dismissal.
Vegeta's face flushed a darker red. He "hmph'd" hard enough to shake the air, fists clenched so tight his knuckles creaked.
"Just wait," he vowed silently, teeth grinding. "After this mission, when we return—I'll make you regret it!"
In the control section, Raditz was already working the console. Screens displayed atmospheric data, orbital angles, and dense defensive network markers covering Planet Sofu like a web.
Nearby, Nappa clumsily squeezed into a spherical one-man attack pod, muttering under his breath as he wrestled with the straps.
"Prince Vegeta! Vitelli! You're awake!"
Raditz looked up quickly, voice carrying a thin edge of tension.
"The main ship can only stay in a safe orbit outside the atmosphere. Planetary defenses inside are heavy—automated cannons, interception nets. A large ship is too big a target. If we force entry, we'll be focused down instantly."
He gestured at the screens.
"We have to enter with single-person pods."
Vegeta frowned hard, clearly disgusted by anything that sounded like caution.
"We can't just land?" he snapped. "It's a planet full of insects. Why make this complicated?"
Vitelli studied the data quietly. Saiyans were built for blunt-force invasion—this level of planning wasn't common.
Raditz hurried to explain.
"This is detailed intelligence from Frieza's military division. Sofu's individual fighters aren't strong, but their tech is advanced—especially their planetary defense system. Single pods have low energy signatures and small profiles. It's the only way to get down without taking the main fire."
He tapped several preset drop points.
"We need to move fast. If we take too long, their defenses might recalibrate their scan parameters."
Watching Raditz flip through interfaces and analyze data streams with practiced ease, Vitelli lifted an eyebrow and spoke with faint amusement.
"Raditz, you've got talent for this. If Vegeta ever stops needing you as a guard, you should consider becoming an engineer. Tech development, ship systems… you might have a better future than you do as a fighter."
"Huh?"
Raditz froze, hands stopping mid-input.
"W-What? Vitelli, I'm just… pressing buttons. Don't say it like my warrior status is going to get revoked!"
He looked honestly offended—as if Vitelli had insulted him in a way he couldn't even define.
Vegeta didn't care.
He wanted to step onto that planet and crush something—anything—until the frustration inside him stopped boiling.
"Move!" he barked. "What are you waiting for?"
He marched into his spherical pod, and the hatch sealed with a sharp hiss.
Vitelli shrugged and entered his own.
Moments later, the four metal spheres detached from the main ship with a vibration and a low engine hum—then became four streaks of light plunging toward the yellow-hazed world below.
On Planet Sofu's surface, the defense command center was already in chaos.
"ALERT! ALERT! High-energy reactions detected!"
Red lights flashed. Sirens screamed.
"Confirmed Frieza Force standard single-person pods have breached the outer defense net! Quantity: four! Coordinates locked! Rapid descent!"
In the palace, the Sofu king paced across gilded floors, face pale with terror.
When a minister magnified the intercepted pod images on a screen, the king's complexion turned paper-white.
"F… Frieza's troops… it's really them!" the minister whispered, voice shaking with despair.
"Mobilize!" the king roared, frantic. "All ground units! Robot legions! Highest alert! Shoot them down—no matter the cost!"
Vitelli's pod tore through the cloud layer and slammed into its designated landing zone.
He stepped out into a storm of fire.
Armored units and metal-skinned robot battalions waited in formation. Energy beams poured toward him like a rain of light.
Pop-pop-pop—
The beams hit his body like raindrops striking stone. They rippled faintly on his skin.
They didn't even leave a mark.
"Cute," Vitelli muttered, unimpressed. "Are you trying to itch me?"
He raised one hand lazily, fingers spread.
Flick—flick—flick—flick—
White ki pellets—no bigger than ping-pong balls—sprayed from his fingertips like gunfire. Efficient. Precise. Each one curved with intent, as if guided by eyes.
Every shot hit a robot's core.
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
Explosions chained together, clearing dozens of meters in an instant. Shattered metal and charred components blasted outward like shrapnel.
Vitelli glanced sideways.
Not far away, Vegeta and the others were also surrounded—Vegeta already laughing loudly as he bombarded the enemy with reckless royal brutality, savoring the feeling of domination.
Vitelli spoke, voice calm and clear through the roar.
"Vegeta. Split up. Faster that way. I'll handle these metal cans—you clear other sectors."
Before anyone could respond, he fired another dense string of ki shots into a distant robot cluster, drawing more fire.
Then he launched.
His body became a blue streak ripping across the ground, racing in the opposite direction from Vegeta's team—dragging a long, clanking wave of robots behind him.
Once he had pulled the bulk of the pursuit into a maze of abandoned factories, he stopped abruptly.
He reached up and removed the new Frieza Force scouter from his ear.
Crack.
His fingers tightened.
The device burst into flame in his palm and died.
"Good," he murmured. "Now the plan begins."
He spread his hands at his chest, taking the classic ki-gathering posture.
The energy inside him flared—like a sleeping volcano jolted awake. Dust lifted from the ground in a rising spiral.
He controlled the output carefully, forcing his aura to stabilize at a level that would read like his "true" full power—around five thousand.
"Ha—!"
A thick golden beam erupted from his hands, a roaring torrent of light that swallowed the entire chase line of robots.
The factories, the machines, the reinforced steel—
all of it vanished under raw energy.
BOOOOOOM—
The blast rolled outward in a chain of collapsing detonations. When the golden glare faded, the area was erased.
A massive blackened crater smoked gently.
All that remained were molten scraps and warped slag, scattered like the bones of a burned world.
Vitelli nodded once, satisfied.
His control was clean.
Then his gaze lifted toward the most imposing structure on the horizon—Planet Sofu's royal palace.
His senses told him the strongest energy signatures were there. Not many, but enough.
"Time to finish this."
He rose, then shot forward—blue lightning tearing the air, a sonic boom trailing behind him—as he rocketed toward the palace.
He arrived like a demon.
Outside the palace, he swatted the charging captain of the guard aside like a fly. Alarms shrieked. The last defenders—fighters with battle power barely approaching two thousand—rushed him in a desperate wave.
Vitelli didn't move his feet.
He only raised a hand.
Ki pellets—dozens, then hundreds—burst out like a living swarm, hunting each target with cold accuracy.
There were no screams.
Just dull explosions.
And the wet hiss of bodies being vaporized.
One breath later, the palace courtyard fell silent—filled only with the stench of blood and scorched metal, and small fires licking at shattered stone.
Vitelli walked through the wreckage as if it were nothing.
"Prince-style fighting really is convenient," he murmured.
He approached the great sealed doors deeper within the palace—the ones that symbolized highest authority.
Meanwhile, on a scorched battlefield elsewhere—
"Hahahaha!"
Vegeta hovered in the air, watching Sofu's troops break under his bombardment, their cries and panicked retreat feeding his ego like fuel.
This was the proper treatment for a Saiyan prince.
Nappa and Raditz followed behind, faces lit with admiration and envy.
"Prince Vegeta is incredible!" Raditz couldn't help saying. "They can't even fight back!"
Beep-beep-beep—!
Vegeta's scouter screamed suddenly.
His laughter died.
His expression snapped from smug to sharp.
A red number on the lens surged upward.
15000… 18000… 21000… 23300.
It stopped—blazing, impossible.
"Twenty-three thousand?!" Vegeta's head jerked up. His eyes locked on the sky. A hostile power—stronger than anything on Sofu—was descending fast.
A fireball tore through the planet's yellow atmosphere.
A single-person pod.
Frieza Force standard.
"Frieza's people?" Vegeta muttered, scowling. He stopped attacking, arms crossing as he hovered in place, watching with cold suspicion.
Nappa and Raditz immediately tensed beside him.
The pod landed with a hiss.
The hatch slid open.
A massive, ugly pink figure squeezed out with a grin that made the air feel filthy.
Dodoria.
His landing made the ground tremble.
His tiny eyes swept over the three Saiyans—pausing on Vegeta—and he let out a grating laugh.
"Heh-heh-heh… well, well. The honorable Saiyan prince."
Dodoria puffed his chest and spoke like he owned the planet.
"I'm Dodoria—Lord Frieza's most loyal, most valuable, and most powerful aide."
He leaned forward slightly, grin widening.
"By Lord Frieza's order, I've come to assist you with this mission."
Vegeta's disgust was immediate and obvious.
He snorted.
"Assist? I need help from Frieza's dog? Get back in your pod. Because of Frieza, I'll spare your life this time. Don't stand in my way."
Dodoria's smile remained.
But something cold flickered behind his eyes.
He adjusted his scouter casually and scanned the two guards first.
"Oh~ battle power fifteen hundred," he said, looking Raditz over like trash. "Pathetic."
Raditz flinched, stepping back.
Dodoria shifted the scouter toward Nappa.
"Four thousand three hundred. Barely acceptable."
Then his lens turned to Vegeta.
The scouter shrieked.
Dodoria's grin stiffened.
Then vanished.
His eyes widened with raw shock.
"Two… two ten-thousand?" he blurted, voice jumping high. "Twenty thousand battle power?! Impossible! Our intel said you were just over three thousand!"
Vegeta lifted his chin higher, arrogance roaring back.
"My power isn't something you can measure, trash."
He jabbed his thumb at himself, eyes blazing with delusion and pride.
"Frieza's information is outdated. Tell him the legendary Super Saiyan has appeared."
He leaned forward, grin sharp and insane.
"And it's me. Super Vegeta!"
Dodoria's shock turned instantly into fury.
Frieza hated the Super Saiyan legend.
And this little Saiyan brat had just waved it in his face.
"Heh-heh-heh…"
Dodoria's laughter became a violent hiss.
"You stupid Saiyan monkey."
His fat body moved—
too fast for its shape—
and his fist blasted forward like a cannon.
BOOM—!
A heavy impact shook the air.
Vegeta barely had time to turn his head—
and Dodoria's punch smashed into his cheek.
The prince's small body flew like a broken kite, slamming through a half-collapsed building and throwing up a cloud of dust.
"PRINCE VEGETA!"
Nappa and Raditz screamed.
But they didn't move.
They stared at the scouter number—23300—like it was a death sentence.
The gap was too wide.
Inside the rubble, Vegeta coughed violently and spat blood. Half his face swelled instantly, pain spreading like fire.
Humiliation ignited rage so hot it nearly blinded him.
"You… trash…!"
His voice warped under fury.
"You dared—just like Vitelli—YOU DARED SNEAK ATTACK ME?!"
He exploded.
Ki flared wild.
He screamed like an animal and fired ki blasts in a frantic storm, a wall of destruction that swallowed Dodoria.
"Hmph. Tricks."
Dodoria slapped and deflected blasts with contempt, detonating them in midair. Fire and shockwaves churned around him, but he barely felt it.
"Power is power," Dodoria snarled. "And you don't have enough."
He surged forward.
A side kick like a siege hammer crashed into Vegeta's chest.
Crack.
Bone gave way.
Vegeta screamed and flew again, eyes flashing black, his lungs collapsing under the shock.
Nappa and Raditz shook, hearts pounding, still unable to step in.
Dodoria hovered above, looking down with delight.
"See? This is the difference. Your Super Saiyan fantasy is—"
He stopped.
Because something below changed.
A pressure surged.
A heat.
A violent, erupting force like a sealed volcano splitting open.
A white aura blasted upward from Vegeta's body, thick and raging, throwing debris outward. His hair stood sharper. Wind-like ki tore at the ground.
The entire area felt heavier.
Vegeta rose slowly through the glow, eyes bloodshot, voice torn and demonic.
"You… trash…!"
His scouter numbers spiked—
21000… 23000… 24000… 25000!
Dodoria's face went blank with horror.
"Twenty-five thousand?! No—NO!"
Vegeta vanished.
He reappeared in front of Dodoria like lightning.
A fist slammed into Dodoria's belly with full force.
"Guh—!"
Dodoria's eyes bulged. Blood and bile sprayed out.
Vegeta didn't stop.
He twisted into a spinning kick and whipped his leg across Dodoria's face like an axe.
CRACK—!
Dodoria's neck snapped to a wrong angle. Teeth flew out in a bloody spray.
His huge body turned into a pink meteor, crashing into the ground and carving a trench over a hundred meters long before coming to a dead stop.
Dust rolled.
Silence fell.
Vegeta hovered there, panting hard.
His aura collapsed.
He was battered. Swollen. Bruised. His chest throbbed with every breath.
But his eyes—
his eyes burned with the arrogant triumph of a victor.
"P-Prince Vegeta…!" Nappa stammered, awestruck. "You're… you're really… the legendary—"
Raditz stared at the trench, stunned.
"The Super Saiyan legend… is real…?"
Vegeta descended to the edge of the trench, looking down at Dodoria's twisted, bleeding body like it was garbage.
Pain twisted his smile.
But the pleasure was real.
"Nappa," Vegeta rasped, voice absolute. "Go."
He pointed.
"Finish that trash."
At that exact moment—
Inside the palace—
The great metal doors twisted inward as if struck by an invisible hammer.
A guard barely managed to shout "Your Majesty, run—" before a beam punched through his heart and dropped him dead.
Vitelli stepped into the throne room like death itself.
The Sofu king sat collapsed on his ornate throne, face drained, shaking so hard he looked ready to fall apart.
Vitelli smiled—a gentle curve that felt like hell.
"You're the king of this planet?"
"Y-Yes! Y-Yes!" the king stammered, voice breaking. "E-Exalted sir… what do you want?"
Vitelli nodded as if satisfied with the answer.
He grabbed a decorative cord from the wall, looped it into a slipknot, and casually placed it around the king's neck.
"Take me," Vitelli said, tone calm and unarguable, "to where you keep your ships."
The king moved like a puppet.
Under heavy guard and frantic panic, they reached a hidden spaceport behind the palace.
Under a massive dome, several sleek starships rested—shapes elegant, lines clean, clearly more advanced than Frieza Force mass-produced craft.
Vitelli's eyes caught on one instantly.
Silver-gray hull. Aggressive wings. Four heavy engine arrays at the rear. It looked like the kind of warship Earth science fiction dreamed about.
"That one," Vitelli said.
He pointed.
"Load it with food. Fill the fuel. Set the destination to a planet called Earth."
The engineers froze, staring at their trembling king, unsure whether to obey.
Vitelli glanced at the king.
The king snapped—terror overriding pride.
"What are you waiting for?!" he screamed at his staff. "Do it! Fuel it! Load supplies! Set the course! Destination—Earth!"
They moved.
Fast.
Very fast.
Soon, a chief engineer came running back, sweating hard.
"M-My lord! The ship is ready! Fuel is full—enough for over twenty-five years continuous travel! Food supplies are stocked! Sleep pods are stable, fully powered, capable of long-term hibernation! Course is set to Earth—third planet of the Solar System, located on the North Galaxy's spiral arm."
He hesitated, then forced the rest out.
"B-But… the distance is extreme. At maximum speed… a one-way trip will take approximately two years."
"Two years?"
Vitelli frowned.
That was longer than he expected.
The engineers and king nearly collapsed in fear, mistaking his expression for anger.
"Please, my lord!" the engineer rushed out. "Our world focuses on robotics and automated defense! Interstellar travel isn't our strongest field! This ship—'Sofu King'—is our best! Two years is the fastest it can do!"
The king nodded so violently his neck looked ready to snap.
Vitelli went silent for a moment.
Then he exhaled once, controlled.
Two years was long.
But it was still better than staying chained to Planet Vegeta.
And most of that time would be spent asleep.
"Fine. Two years," Vitelli said. "The sleep system is reliable?"
"Absolutely!" the engineer blurted. "Extremely mature and stable! As long as power holds, it can keep a person in suspension for a hundred years!"
"Good."
Vitelli nodded.
He led the king back toward the engineers gathered nearby, all trembling.
Their faces were full of fear.
Vitelli's expression softened slightly—almost apologetic.
But his eyes were ice.
"Sorry," he said quietly, as if stating a simple fact.
Then his right hand lifted, palm aimed at them.
A golden beam—far denser, far more terrifying than the one he'd used on the robots—burst outward.
The engineers disappeared.
No screams.
No struggle.
Their bodies, the floor beneath them, the air around them—vaporized into nothing.
A perfect, smooth-edged crater remained, glowing faintly with heat and releasing thin threads of smoke.
The king's mind snapped.
He screamed, bladder losing control, then collapsed on the cold metal ground, gasping like a dying fish.
Vitelli removed the cord from his neck and looked down calmly.
"I said I wouldn't kill you," Vitelli said. "And I won't."
He glanced around the empty spaceport.
"But you should run. Frieza's methods… you understand them. Their goal is to erase all life on this planet."
His voice didn't change.
"Stay, and you die. That's all I'm saying. Decide for yourself."
Then he turned away from the shaking king and walked toward the silver warship.
The heavy hatch slid open and sealed behind him.
Inside, the ship powered up with a deep, confident hum.
Blue engine glow blossomed.
Vitelli smiled to himself.
"Advance Three," he said softly. "Let's go."
The ship slid out of its berth, rotated automatically, and aimed its nose at the black ocean of space.
Then the main engines flared.
BOOM—!
The vessel launched like a freed silver beast, ripping through the atmosphere in seconds, becoming a streak of light that vanished into the void.
Behind it, the king sat frozen on the floor, staring at the emptiness where it had been.
Vitelli's last words echoed in his head like a curse.
After a long stretch of stunned silence, survival finally overwhelmed terror.
The king clawed his way upright and screamed into the empty port.
"Someone! Get my ship ready! Now! Destination—destination the Galactic Patrol headquarters!"
Elsewhere on the ruined battlefield, Vegeta sat on a scorched boulder gnawing on strange local food Raditz had looted from a destroyed town.
His battle suit was torn. Scratches marked his face.
But he looked thrilled.
He'd beaten Dodoria.
The moment his power surged to twenty-five thousand—the feeling of energy filling every part of him—was intoxicating.
Then he felt something.
He looked up sharply.
His eyes pierced the thin atmosphere and caught a nearly vanishing silver dot streaking away from the planet—an escaping ship.
Vegeta frowned.
Something about it felt… familiar.
Then he shoved the thought aside.
Ridiculous.
Vitelli couldn't just leave alone.
Besides, countless ships had fled once the slaughter began—panicked birds scattering from a burning world. Nappa and Raditz had blasted a few out of the sky early on, but there were too many, and eventually they stopped caring.
"Hmph. Just another insect trying to run."
Vegeta returned to his food, dismissing it.
When the main cities were wiped, Vitelli would show up eventually.
And then—
Vegeta would force that comparison again.
He would prove who the real genius was.
In the silent cold of deep space, Vitelli's warship flew alone along its programmed route.
Inside, the ship's indicator lights blinked steadily. Course logs updated. Engines burned with unwavering consistency.
Vitelli lay suspended in a sleep pod filled with pale blue fluid.
A clear countdown glowed on the pod's display:
[Wake-Up Countdown: 1 year 11 months 29 days 22 hours 59 minutes…]
His breathing was slow and even.
His face looked peaceful.
His body entered deep physiological stasis—cell activity minimized, time almost frozen across his skin.
The ship traveled through a relatively empty region of space.
Then the radar detected a weak signal—barely anything.
A piece of meteor debris, no larger than a fist.
Drifting on a path nearly perpendicular to the ship's course.
Their velocities aligned in a tiny, meaningless intersection.
Thunk.
A faint impact.
In vacuum it shouldn't have been heard—yet the ship's internal vibration sensors registered it.
The strike landed on the side of the hull, near an interface close to the sleep pod's power supply circuit.
The force was microscopic.
The super-alloy skin showed no visible dent.
But the moment it happened, a delicate circuit node inside the pod—responsible for receiving wake-up commands—suffered a subtle, nearly undetectable interference.
A speck dropped into a perfect machine.
A chain reaction began, too small to trigger alarms, too quiet to be noticed.
On the pod's control panel, the countdown digits—which had been ticking like a heartbeat—
stuttered.
Then stopped.
Frozen at:
[1 year 11 months 29 days]
Vitelli remained asleep.
Unaware.
His expression unchanged, as if dreaming of strength and a future he would soon reach.
The ship followed its last instruction faithfully, engines burning steadily as it moved toward its assigned coordinates.
Only the countdown—his promised return—
stayed locked forever on the moment it broke.
And the warship continued on.
Forward.
Into the endless dark.
Advance Chapters available on Patreon
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