Dragon Ball Alternative

From an astonishing distance, Piccolo released the Special Beam Cannon. The spiraling attack tore through the air at blinding speed, locking onto Frieza, who remained trapped in a full Nelson hold by Ginyu's body, still controlled by Goku.

But Frieza was certainly no Raditz, even while restrained. His senses were razor sharp, and in the split second before the beam reached him, his expression shifted dramatically. The arrogance drained from his face, replaced by something colder, deadlier—a predator sensing danger.

As the beam neared, moments away from impaling both Goku and Frieza, the tyrant made a swift decision. Unable to detect the origin of the threat, Frieza gambled on the one direction he knew the attack wouldn't come from: below.

In a flash, Frieza released a tremendous surge of energy, obliterating the restraints Ajax had placed on the air around him. With immense force, he slammed himself into the ground, dragging Goku with him. The earth exploded under the impact as he tunneled into its depths, disappearing beneath the molten surface in a cascade of shattered glass.

Meanwhile, the Special Beam Cannon streaked overhead, missing its mark by a hair's breadth. Its raw energy tore through the sky, ripping apart the landscape in its wake.

Moments later, in the distance, the ground exploded as Frieza erupted from below, launching into the sky a majestic cloud of dirt and rubble. Ginyu's body dangled limply in Frieza's grip, his neck clenched in the tyrant's iron grasp. Frieza's face twisted with irritation as he casually flicked the dirt from his shoulders with a sweep of his tail.

His scarlet eyes zeroed in on Piccolo from afar, narrowing with icy fury.

In Frieza's hand, Ginyu's body convulsed violently, the strain of Goku's relentless use of higher Kaioken multipliers pushing it dangerously close to its breaking point.

Frieza's gaze flickered, momentarily intrigued by the pitiful sight before his irritation resurfaced. Pathetic," he muttered with cold contempt.

He released his grip, letting Ginyu's body fall like dead weight, crashing to the ground far below. Without a second glance, Frieza crossed his arms and floated downward, landing softly on the earth below. His crimson eyes gleamed with disdain as he stared at the approaching newcomer.

By now, Piccolo had arrived before Frieza, standing tall and dressed in his simple purple Gi, having long shed his weighted gear. The wind tugged at the edges of his clothing, but Piccolo stood motionless, only a few meters away from the tyrant. They locked gazes, and the silence between them grew deafening, charged with tension.

Inside Piccolo's mind, Nail's voice resonated with confidence.

'I'm still getting used to your Ki Sense, but I'd say Frieza's power level is anywhere between 11 to 13 million, give or take. Ours is maybe a quarter of that—at best, a third. We can win.'

But Piccolo wasn't convinced. He knew better than to rely on raw numbers alone. He had survived enough life-or-death battles to understand that power was just one part of the equation. When push comes to shove, trump cards, last-minute strategies, and hidden advantages all come into play—all factors that can utterly shift the momentum of a battle.

And Frieza? He was the type of monster who undoubtedly had more to reveal.

Sensing Piccolo's thoughts, Nail fell silent too.

The tense silence was shattered by Frieza's mocking voice.

"A Namekian," he sneered. "Where were you ten minutes ago, hmm? Had you helped me then, I might've considered sparing your pitiful life. But now, it's far too late. You will suffer the same fate as the rest of this miserable planet."

Piccolo's eyes narrowed.

"Don't be so sure, Frieza. I've made a habit of defeating opponents stronger than me."

With his piece said, Piccolo wasted no time. Words had never been his forte—combat was. He roared as he tapped into his newfound strength, the power granted by his fusion with Nail. His aura ignited in a violent blaze as the ground trembled beneath him. Rocks lifted off the ground, caught in the raw force of his Ki, and his power surged, shaking the battlefield.

But Frieza? He simply stood there, an amused smile curling his lips, entirely unimpressed.

Then, without warning, the battle began.

Piccolo lunged forward, the ground shattering beneath him as he launched himself at the tyrant. In an instant, he activated Kaioken X2, his body enveloped in a fiery red aura. His speed doubled as he unleashed a rapid barrage of attacks—punches, kicks, elbows—all aimed with deadly precision at Frieza's vital points. The flurry of blows would have overwhelmed most opponents.

But Frieza was no ordinary foe. He moved with grace, blocking and deflecting the strikes with ease.

In the midst of a combo, Piccolo suddenly teleported behind Frieza with lightning speed. He drove his elbow toward Frieza's spine—a blow meant to cripple, or at the very least stagger, him. But Frieza was faster. His tail snapped out like a whip, coiling around Piccolo's arm in a crushing grip, stopping the attack mere inches from landing.

Frieza's grin widened as he tightened his hold.

"Predictable," he sneered, squeezing Piccolo's arm with bone-cracking force. Piccolo grimaced but didn't utter a sound, teeth clenched as he fought to break free.

Without warning, Frieza swung his tail, flinging Piccolo into the air. The Namekian twisted mid-flight, flipping to regain his balance, but Frieza was already upon him. In a blink, the tyrant appeared above him, faster than even Piccolo's enhanced speed could react to. With a sadistic smile, Frieza brought both fists down like a hammer, smashing Piccolo back toward the ground with a thunderous crash.

The earth shook as Piccolo's body hit the ground, sending a plume of dust and debris skyward. But before the dust could settle, Piccolo was already back on his feet, his red Kaioken aura blazing around him. He wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, his gaze locked onto Frieza.

Frieza descended slowly, arms still crossed, his smile never fading.

"Is that all?" he taunted, his tone patronizing, as if addressing a child struggling to walk. "You're far stronger than the others, Namekian; I'll grant you that. But still, hardly a challenge. Don't hold back now—come on, I do enjoy a good fight."

In a sudden burst of speed, Frieza retaliated. Moving faster than the eye could follow, he appeared in front of Piccolo and shot out his leg in a vicious roundhouse kick aimed at Piccolo's ribs. The impact was devastating, sending Piccolo flying backward, his body skidding across the ground. However, Piccolo soon dug his heels into the ground, carving deep trenches in the dirt as his momentum slowed.

Piccolo wiped a smear of blood from his mouth and glanced at it, his eyes narrowing in thought.

He had realized something crucial by now—Kaioken X2 was nowhere near enough. Frieza's sheer speed and strength far exceeded his own, and trying to go blow-for-blow at this meager level of power would only spell defeat. Worse yet, the Kaioken wasn't a technique designed for drawn-out fights. The longer Piccolo remained in this state, the more damage his body would suffer. Time was against him.

His resolve solidified. If he was going to stand a chance, then he needed more power—now.

Gritting his teeth, Piccolo made a decisive move. He tapped deeper into his reservoir of strength, reaching for the power of Kaioken X5. Instantly, his muscles swelled, veins bulging as his body strained to handle the massive surge of energy.

Piccolo's face twisted in agony as his fiery red aura roared chaotically around him. The strain was nearly unbearable—his body was unprepared for the intensity of the Kaioken at this level. Despite the immense power boost from his fusion with Nail, he hadn't acquired the physical resilience necessary to withstand such pressure. After all, the Namekian fusion is based on Ki and soul rather than physical strength.

Just as the pain became overwhelming, utterly clouding his thoughts, a familiar presence stirred from within.

'Let me help',' Nail's calm voice resonated in his thoughts. Nail took on Piccolo's senses, shouldered the burden of the Kaioken alongside him, and in an instant, the agony was cut in half.

With his mind now stabilized, Piccolo didn't waste any more time. He shot forward, closing the gap between him and Frieza in the blink of an eye. His speed was now blinding, far greater than what it had been moments before. Frieza barely had time to register the sudden shift before Piccolo appeared right in front of him, his fist pulled back and glowing with Ki.

Piccolo's punch landed squarely against Frieza's chest, the impact cratering the ground beneath them and sending a massive, violent gust of wind rippling outward. Spittle flew from Frieza's mouth as he staggered backward from the force of the blow.

For the first time, Frieza looked genuinely surprised. Though he remained mostly unharmed, the raw power behind the strike had clearly rattled him, if only momentarily.

Frieza immediately counterattacked with terrifying speed, appearing behind Piccolo in the blink of an eye and driving a knee into his back. But Piccolo, pushing the Kaioken to its absolute limit, vanished just in time, narrowly evading what could have been a spine-shattering blow.

The air cracked as Piccolo and Frieza exchanged blows midair, moving so fast that they appeared as nothing more than streaks of light and thunderous sonic booms.

Below, the Z Fighters watched in stunned disbelief, their eyes wide as they struggled to even follow the battle. All they could sense were the violent shockwaves tearing through the battlefield, and certainly not Piccolo nor Frieza themselves.

For a solid minute, they seemed evenly matched. Neither Frieza nor Piccolo gained any ground, and their strikes were too fast for anyone to tell who had the upper hand. It was a brutal, high-speed stalemate, with each testing the other's limits in a whirlwind of violence.

In the midst of the violent battle, Frieza's tail suddenly lashed out, aiming to coil around Piccolo. But with lightning-quick reflexes, Piccolo caught the tail mid-swing, gritting his teeth as he spun Frieza through the air and hurled him violently into the ground.

Wasting no time, Piccolo's hands began to glow with energy as he prepared a Masenko. The battlefield was bathed in a bright yellow light as he aimed the powerful attack at the downed tyrant.

However, as Frieza stood, the playful smirk he'd worn a minute ago had vanished, replaced by a cold, annoyed glare. In the split second between Piccolo charging his Masenko and Frieza rising from the crater, something changed. Frieza's power surged, suddenly and terrifyingly.

With a dismissive crack of his neck, Frieza stepped forward, his aura shifting—growing darker and more oppressive. The earth itself quaked as Frieza unleashed a mere fraction of his true power—a quarter.

Piccolo's Masenko hurtled toward Frieza at blinding speed, more powerful than any Ki attack fired so far. But Frieza merely raised his head and, with a casual swat of his hand, backhanded the beam aside, sending it careening into a distant mountain range where it erupted in a massive explosion.

Piccolo suddenly froze, stunned by sheer disbelief. He had known—everyone had known—that Frieza had been holding back, but the difference in power was far more staggering than anything he had anticipated. Because, it turns out... Frieza hadn't even begun to fight in earnest.

"Admirable, Namekian," Frieza admitted, his tone almost appreciative if it were not for the hint of humiliation that lined it. "You've lasted far longer and pushed me much further than I had anticipated. Truly, the Namekian race is remarkable for producing such exceptional warriors." He paused, a distant look crossing his face as if contemplating an old thought. "Perhaps my father had a point, but even so, Namek never warranted a Code Black. Crimson, perhaps, but not Black."

Frieza rolled his shoulders, the casual amusement draining from his expression, replaced by something far more sinister. "Now, enough of my musings. Let me show you what true despair feels like."

***

Power Level:

Piccolo: 3,300,000

Frieza (25%): 30,000,000