The cocoon of Hell's prison was uncomfortable on the best of days.
Today, it was particularly intolerable as Frieza dangled in his eternal punishment, suspended upside down like some grotesque butterfly that had never completed its metamorphosis.
The tyrant's thoughts, as always, were consumed by hatred and revenge fantasies.
"When I escape this place," he muttered to himself, "I'll make those monkeys pay. Especially that insignficant worm Goku. I'll destroy everything he loves before ending him."
These bitter ruminations were interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. Frieza's eyes narrowed as he spotted a blue ogre making his way toward the cocoon.
The creature was tall, even for his kind, with a single horn protruding from his forehead and an official-looking clipboard clutched in his meaty hands.
"Lord Frieza," the ogre announced with surprising formality, "you have a visitor."
Frieza's expression shifted from surprise to suspicion. In all his time in Hell, he'd never received a visitor. "A visitor? Who would possibly come to see me in this wretched place?"
The blue ogre, Azulon by name, consulted his clipboard with exaggerated importance. "The paperwork describes him as 'the hope of the universe, the one who killed its terror Majin Buu.'"
"Majin Buu?" Frieza repeated, genuine confusion crossing his features. He had heard rumors of this creature during his lifetime - a monster of ancient legend that even his father had warned him about.
"Who could possibly defeat such a being?"
Azulon merely shrugged his massive shoulders. "I just process the visitation requests, Lord Frieza. I don't question their content."
Before Frieza could demand more information, a figure materialized several yards away. The newcomer's appearance made Frieza's blood run cold.
Though he had never seen this particular individual before, the trademark Saiyan features were unmistakable -
the muscular build, the distinctive hairstyle that somehow combined elements of Goku's wild spikes with that insufferable prince's widow's peak, and most damning of all, a brown tail wrapped securely around his waist.
"Another monkey," Frieza hissed, his voice dripping with contempt.
"Has my humiliation not been complete enough? Now I must endure taunting from yet another of your primitive species?"
The Saiyan approached with measured steps, his bearing regal and confident in a way that reminded Frieza uncomfortably of Vegeta at his most princely.
Yet there was something else - a casual power that radiated from him without effort, reminiscent of Goku at his most infuriating.
"Hello, Frieza," the stranger greeted, his deep voice carrying both familiarity and disdain. "It's been a while. Though I suppose you wouldn't remember me, would you?"
Frieza's eyes narrowed in confusion. "Remember you? I've never seen you before in my life, monkey. Though all you Saiyans look the same to me - like vermin awaiting extermination."
The Saiyan smiled, but there was no warmth in the expression. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Vegito, the fusion of Goku and Prince Vegeta."
"Fusion?" Frieza repeated, genuine shock breaking through his habitual sneer. "What nonsense is this?"
"Not nonsense," Vegito replied calmly. "Reality. Through the power of the Potara earrings, Goku and Vegeta combined to create me - the ultimate warrior with the power to destroy Majin Buu when no one else could."
Frieza's mind raced. He had no context for most of what this "Vegito" was saying. Majin Buu, Potara earrings - these were meaningless terms.
But the claim of being a fusion of his two greatest enemies... that was enough to make his blood boil.
"I see," Frieza said, forcing his voice to remain controlled. "And to what do I owe the displeasure of this visit? Have you come merely to gloat over my situation?"
Vegito circled the cocoon slowly, studying Frieza with analytical detachment. "Gloating isn't my style. I've come with a proposition."
With a casual gesture, Vegito released a small burst of ki that severed the supernatural threads binding Frieza's cocoon.
The former emperor fell to the ground in an undignified heap, his atrophied limbs struggling to support him after so long suspended.
"A proposition?" Frieza spat, attempting to regain his dignity as he pushed himself to his feet. "What could you possibly offer me that would be of interest?"
"Training," Vegito stated simply. "The opportunity to grow stronger."
Frieza's eyes widened in surprise before narrowing with suspicion. "And why would you, a Saiyan, offer to help me grow stronger? Do you take me for a fool?"
"Not at all," Vegito replied, his tone matter-of-fact. "I have my reasons, which don't concern you. What should concern you is whether you accept or decline."
Frieza's tail lashed behind him in agitation. "And what happens if I decline this generous offer?"
Without warning, Vegito moved - faster than Frieza's eyes could track.
The Saiyan appeared directly in front of him, a hand gripping Frieza's throat with just enough pressure to be uncomfortable without cutting off his air supply.
"Then you go back in the cocoon," Vegito said simply. "And I find another sparring partner."
Frieza's eyes bulged with rage and humiliation. He attempted to strike Vegito with his tail, but the Saiyan caught it effortlessly with his free hand.
"Your power has stagnated during your time here," Vegito observed, releasing Frieza's throat but maintaining his grip on the tyrant's tail.
"You were once feared throughout the galaxy. Now you're just a relic - a cautionary tale told to children."
"How dare you!" Frieza snarled, attempting to pull his tail free. "I am Lord Frieza, emperor of the universe!"
"Former emperor," Vegito corrected, his voice taking on a harder edge. "Your empire has fallen. Your territories are now under new management - my management."
This statement stopped Frieza cold. "What did you say?"
Vegito released Frieza's tail and stepped back, his posture relaxed yet commanding. "The Paradis Empire now governs what was once your domain.
I've been systematically converting your former outposts, rehabilitating the worlds you oppressed, establishing systems of mutual benefit rather than exploitation."
Frieza's face contorted with rage. "You... a Saiyan... have taken my empire?"
"Improved it, actually," Vegito replied with a slight shrug.
"Your approach was remarkably inefficient. Fear and brutality only generate resistance over time. My empire is built on principles that create stability and growth."
"You're lying," Frieza hissed, though uncertainty had crept into his voice.
"Am I?" Vegito raised an eyebrow. "Your former general on Traden Prime now serves as my regional administrator.
The Ginyu Force's old training facilities on Frieza Planet 79 have been converted into educational centers.
Even your throne room on your capital world has been repurposed - it makes an excellent conference chamber for interplanetary diplomacy."
Each detail struck Frieza like a physical blow. The specificity left no room for doubt - this Saiyan was telling the truth.
His empire, the culmination of his family's conquests across generations, had been usurped by a monkey.
"Why are you telling me this?" Frieza demanded, his voice trembling with barely contained fury.
"Context," Vegito replied simply.
"You should understand your new position in the cosmic hierarchy. You're no longer an emperor - you're not even a threat. You're a relic of a bygone era, preserved here in Hell like a museum piece."
Frieza lunged at Vegito, abandoning all pretense of dignity. His fist connected with the Saiyan's jaw - only for Vegito to remain completely unmoved, not even bothering to block.
"Is that all?" Vegito asked, his tone almost disappointed. "The mighty Frieza, terror of the galaxy, and that's the best you can do?"
With blinding speed, Frieza launched a barrage of strikes, pouring all his hatred and humiliation into each blow.
Vegito stood motionless, allowing the attacks to land without effect, as if being struck by a child.
"Pathetic," Vegito commented when Frieza finally paused, panting with exertion. "You haven't improved at all since Namek. If anything, you've regressed."
"Shut up!" Frieza screamed, his composure completely shattered. "You filthy monkey! I am the emperor of the universe!"
"No," Vegito corrected calmly.
"I am the Emperor of Paradis, the Sage who through wisdom brings prosperity rather than worthless destruction. I am what you never could be - a ruler who builds rather than merely destroys."
With casual ease, Vegito caught Frieza's next punch, twisting the tyrant's arm behind his back in a painful lock. "I am the Monkey King, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven. And you? You're my new punching bag."
"Release me this instant!" Frieza demanded, his voice rising to a shrill pitch that betrayed his panic.
"Make me," Vegito replied simply.
Frieza attempted to power up, his aura flickering around him as he accessed his full power.
The display might have been impressive to lesser beings, but Vegito merely watched with clinical interest, maintaining his hold without apparent effort.
"Is that your maximum?" Vegito asked when the power-up was complete. "How disappointing."
With a casual flick of his wrist, Vegito sent Frieza flying across the barren landscape of Hell. The tyrant crashed through several rock formations before coming to a stop, his body already bruising from the impact.
"You see, Frieza," Vegito continued, walking unhurriedly toward the fallen emperor, "this is why I'm offering to train you.
In your current state, you're not even a decent warm-up exercise. But with proper guidance, you might eventually provide me with a moderately challenging sparring session."
Frieza pushed himself to his feet, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. "You expect me to believe that? That you want to train me out of some benevolent desire to help?"
Vegito laughed, the sound devoid of humor. "Benevolence has nothing to do with it. I need someone who can take punishment without breaking - someone whose suffering won't trouble my conscience.
You, with your countless atrocities, fit that requirement perfectly."
The brutal honesty of this statement struck Frieza harder than any physical blow. "You... you're using me."
"Of course," Vegito agreed easily.
"Just as you used countless species throughout your reign. The difference is that my use of you might actually result in your improvement, whereas you simply exploited others until they broke."
Frieza's mind raced, calculating angles, seeking advantage. "And what happens if I do improve? If I become strong enough to challenge you?"
Vegito smiled, a predatory expression that sent an involuntary shiver down Frieza's spine. "Then I'll simply improve faster. The gap between us will never close, Frieza. That's something you need to understand from the beginning."
To demonstrate his point, Vegito vanished from sight, reappearing directly behind Frieza. Before the tyrant could react, Vegito delivered a precise strike to his back, sending him crashing face-first into the ground.
"You see?" Vegito continued conversationally, as if they were discussing the weather rather than Frieza's complete humiliation.
"No matter how much you grow, I'll always be steps ahead. The student never surpasses the master in this arrangement."
Frieza pushed himself up, spitting blood. "And if I refuse?"
"Then it's back to the cocoon," Vegito replied with a shrug. "Where you can spend eternity reflecting on your failures. Your choice."
For several long moments, Frieza remained silent, his pride warring with his desire for any change to his current existence. Finally, his practical nature won out.
"Fine," he spat, the word clearly costing him. "I accept your... proposition."
"Excellent," Vegito replied, his tone businesslike. "We begin immediately."
Without warning, Vegito delivered a punishing kick to Frieza's midsection, doubling the tyrant over. "Lesson one: Always be prepared. Your enemies won't announce their attacks."
Frieza wheezed, struggling to regain his breath. "You... bastard..."
"Lesson two," Vegito continued, ignoring Frieza's gasping protests, "proper breathing techniques. Notice how you're struggling for air? That's inefficient.
A warrior must maintain steady breathing even when taking damage. Actually, why are you struggling for air? Don't you not need air?
Or is it something you only don't need in large quantities?" Vegito questioned, though with each question came another hit, another kick, another stomp on Frieza's neck.
"Or have you simply gotten used to breathing so much that it has become a weakness? If so - then we need to rectify that," Vegito stated with a sadistic smirk as he hoisted Frieza up by his neck, let him go and punched him in his gut so hard - his fest made an indent.
"Now, this, this is what I'm talking about! An unbreakable punching bag! Perfect!" Vegito yelled out with a grin as he slammed Frieza into the earth.
For the next several hours, Vegito subjected Frieza to what could only be described as systematic torture disguised as training.
Each punishing blow was accompanied by clinical observations and corrections, as if Vegito were a particularly sadistic instructor at a martial arts academy.
By the time Vegito called a halt, Frieza lay broken and bloodied on the ground, barely conscious.
"That's enough for today," Vegito announced, standing over the fallen tyrant without a hint of exertion or remorse. "You performed... adequately for a first session."
"You... won't get away with this," Frieza managed to gasp between labored breaths.
Vegito crouched beside him, his expression suddenly serious. "I already have, Frieza. Your empire is mine.
Your legacy is being systematically erased and replaced with something better. Your name will eventually be forgotten, a footnote in cosmic history."
He stood, brushing imaginary dust from his imperial armor. "But take heart - as my personal training dummy, you'll serve a purpose in death that you never managed in life: contributing to the greater good."
"I'll... kill you," Frieza promised weakly.
"No, you won't," Vegito replied with absolute certainty. "But your attempts will provide me with mild entertainment, so by all means, nurture that delusion."
He turned to leave, then paused, glancing back over his shoulder. "I'll return in three days. Use the time to recover and reflect on today's lessons.
Next time, we'll focus on proper defensive techniques - something you've always been notably deficient in."
With that parting shot, Vegito placed two fingers to his forehead and vanished, leaving Frieza alone with his humiliation and the dawning realization that his afterlife had just become significantly worse.
Azulon the blue ogre approached cautiously, clipboard still in hand. "Um, Lord Frieza? Should I... prepare the cocoon for your return?"
"No!" Frieza snapped, struggling to push himself into a sitting position. "Leave me be, you blue buffoon!"
The ogre retreated hastily, leaving Frieza to contemplate his new reality.
The former emperor of the universe, reduced to a training dummy for a Saiyan who now ruled his former territories. The irony was almost as painful as his physical injuries.
But beneath the pain and humiliation, a tiny spark ignited in Frieza's cold heart - not hope, exactly, but something adjacent to it.
For the first time since his death, he had a purpose, even if that purpose was merely surviving his next "training session" with the self-proclaimed Monkey King.
And perhaps, just perhaps, he might eventually grow strong enough to make Vegito regret this arrangement.
It was a slim possibility, but in the endless monotony of Hell, even the slimmest chance of revenge was worth clinging to.
As Frieza dragged himself to a nearby rock formation for support, he began mentally reviewing the "lessons" Vegito had brutally imparted.
If he was to be used as a punching bag, he would at least be a punching bag that learned from each beating.
After all, he had nothing but time.
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(Author note: Hello everyone! I hope you all liked the chapter!
Do tell me how you found it.
Also, have you gotten the hint? There is a reason beyond the cool factor and humiliating Frieza that Vegito calls himself 'Monkey King.'
Do tell me if you know.
So yeah, I hope to see you all later,
Bye!)