Dragon Ball Alternative

Ajax swallowed hard, heart racing as he watched Frieza struggle—yet manage—to deflect the final Special Beam Cannon, whose trajectory he had forcibly adjusted using the Zone.

To make matters worse, he had been closely monitoring the battle, looking for the right moment to intervene, and saw the exact moment Piccolo's Kaioken had knocked him out of the Zone.

It was still too soon to be certain, but Ajax couldn't shake the growing suspicion creeping up his spine—that the Kaioken and the Zone might not be compatible.

'Wait, that premonition earlier! This had to be what his instincts had been warning him about!'

Thankfully, he hadn't activated Kaioken yet. If he had, it likely would've forced him out of the Zone, and that would have been a deadly mistake. His mission wasn't complete—couldn't be complete—because Goku was still stumbling around in Ginyu's body, which meant Goku's original body was still healing.

As if sensing his defiance, Frieza's gaze snapped from Piccolo's crumpled form and settled onto him. The shift in the atmosphere was immediate—dark, suffocating, and saturated with raw malice. Frieza frowned, his lips curling in rage, and with that expression, a crushing wave of murderous intent slammed into Ajax. A cold, heavy weight sank into his gut, like a kaleidoscope of dead butterflies.

There would be no more stalling. No more miracles. It was clear now—Frieza had made his choice. The tyrant was going to kill him first.

"You." Frieza hissed. "You may not be the strongest in your pathetic little band, but you're the only one who has succeeded in causing me any damage. You must think you're clever for that, don't you? But you failed to realize that all you've really done is capture my full attention."

And it was true. Whether it was the small cut on Frieza's tail from the Kienzan, the burn in the tyrant's palm from the Kamehameha laser, or the small injury from the Special Beam Cannon, each wound had been inflicted by, or thanks to, Ajax.

Frieza's tail swayed lazily behind him, but his eyes gleamed with murderous intent as he addressed Ajax directly. "I'd be a fool to let you live any longer. So, tell me—how do you wish to die? I'd suggest something... excruciating."

Frieza's words settled over Ajax like a dark cloud, but Ajax wasn't about to let fear take control. Taking a page out of Nappa's and Nana Shimura's book, he decided that the best way to face terror was through humor.

Ajax took a deep breath, forced a smile onto his face, and blurted out the most absurdly honest thing that came to mind.

"Speak for yourself!" he called out, his voice just a bit too enthusiastic. "I'd rather die of old age; thank you very much!" He paused, pretending to give it more thought, then added with a nervous but mischievous grin, "Or, you know, maybe crushed into oblivion by a black hole... or thighs. Thighs work too."

The battlefield instantly went silent. The tension that had just been thick in the air seemed to freeze, unraveled by stunned disbelief. Even the wind seemed to stop in its tracks.

It was... a rather awkward silence, actually.

"I–I must admit, that's... a new one," Frieza said slowly, confusion plain on his face. His head tilted ever so slightly, narrowing his eyes, not in malice but in genuine bafflement. "You want me to crush you... between my thighs?"

Frieza wasn't the only one caught off guard. Across the battlefield, every pair of eyes—friend and foe alike—turned to Ajax as though he had grown a second head. Piccolo was too busy screaming, but Vegeta's eyebrow twitched, Nappa blinked rapidly, Goku looked utterly bewildered in Ginyu's body, and poor Gohan just seemed lost.

Only Krillin, a fellow man of culture, gave Ajax an approving nod and a proud thumb-up.

Despite Krillin's support, Ajax felt his cheeks flush as he realized that he might've been a bit too honest. Flustered, he waved his hands frantically in protest. "No, no! Between a girl's thighs! A girl's!"

The panicked clarification didn't help Ajax's case at all. If anything, it made things worse, as the odd, judging stares only intensified.

Meanwhile, Frieza's patience had officially reached its breaking point. His confusion melted away, replaced by an icy rage.

"Enough of this nonsense!" he snarled, his voice reverberating with barely restrained fury. The ground beneath them trembled as Frieza's purple aura flared. Floating just above the ground, the tyrant's face twisted with pure hatred, any trace of amusement long gone.

With a furious snarl, Frieza vanished. One moment, his oppressive presence dominated the battlefield; the next, he was simply gone, disappearing into thin air like a bad dream. The seconds dragged on agonizingly, each heartbeat louder than the last, as Frieza failed to reappear.

"Where did he go?!" Krillin shouted, his voice rising in panic as his head whipped around frantically, trying to locate the missing tyrant. The others followed suit, eyes wide as they scanned the horizon for any trace of Frieza. But there was nothing—it was as if he had vanished from the planet.

Ajax gritted his teeth, joining the others in their frantic search. His sharp eyes darted across the landscape, but even with the heightened awareness of the Zone, Frieza's physical form was nowhere to be found. But that didn't matter—he could still feel him. Frieza's massive energy signature hadn't diminished in the slightest. It was still thick and oppressive, like a dark fog suffocating everything in its wake.

No, Frieza hadn't left. He was still here, lurking just out of sight like a predator stalking its prey. And that malevolent intent was wrapping itself around Ajax, tightening like a noose around his neck.

Ajax's eyes hardened. His time here was up.

Without a word to the others, Ajax bolted. In an instant, he shot away from the group, his body a blur as he tore across the battlefield, putting more distance between them with each step. His heart pounded in his chest, and he could sense everyone else's stunned gazes on his back, likely assuming he was trying to flee.

'Ajax, what are you—?!' Krillin's confused voice echoed in his mind, only to be abruptly cut off.

Because Ajax didn't make it very far.

In fact, Ajax never even saw it coming. Frieza suddenly appeared in front of him with impossible speed, arms crossed, materializing from thin air like a phantom. In an instant, Frieza's tail snapped out, coiling around his neck like a steel vice. Ajax's momentum shattered as he was yanked to a violent stop, feet lifting off the ground as Frieza flew into the sky. The tail tightened with every passing second, squeezing the breath out of him.

"Now, now, where do you think you're rushing off to, hmm? Surely you're not trying to run away already? Is that how you want to die, boy? Choking on your own cowardice? How... disappointing," Frieza said mockingly. "Besides, you haven't even asked for permission to leave. How rude."

"D–do I have your p–permission to leave then? B–bathroom break!"

"No."

Frieza appeared thoroughly unimpressed by Ajax's attempt at humor. The tail constricted tighter, and Ajax's breath hitched painfully in his throat. He clawed at Frieza's tail, but it was like trying to pry apart a mountain with his bare hands.

"T–thought so!" Ajax replied, his voice tight with forced cheer.

Just as Ajax's muscles tensed for an attack, he felt a crushing, invisible force clamped down on his body, locking his limbs in place as if he had been sealed in an iron coffin. Frieza's telekinesis wrapped around him like unbreakable chains, freezing him mid-motion. His entire body stiffened, and no matter how much he struggled, he couldn't move.

Their eyes met.

"Did you really think you could change anything, boy?" Frieza's lips curled into a cruel sneer. "Do you honestly believe you could defy me? Me? By your lonesome, you can't even make me bleed, let alone defeat me. You were never a real threat, just a slightly smarter insect daring to challenge a god. And like all insects, you'll be crushed beneath my heel."

Ajax's eyes narrowed in defiance.

He could sense Krillin and Gohan behind him, rushing toward him in a desperate attempt to help. But it was futile. Frieza barely glanced over Ajax's shoulder before lazily flicking his hand.

Ajax didn't need to look to know what had happened. The unmistakable sound of two bodies slamming into the ground echoed across the battlefield, followed by silence. Gohan and Krillin had been thrown aside like ragdolls, their brief flicker of hope of rescuing Ajax extinguished before it had a chance to spark.

Meanwhile, Piccolo and Goku were likely too injured from Kaioken ×10 to help, and Nappa and Vegeta appeared uninterested in risking their own lives for his. They had probably already written him off as dead.

"Well, isn't this delightful?" Frieza purred, his tone dripping with mock sympathy. "All that effort, all that hope... and now look at you. Completely helpless."

"I—I wouldn't s-say that, F-Frieza. I've actually got you exactly where I w-want you."

Frieza raised an eyebrow.

"Ah, still clinging to bravado, I see! But it's time to face reality, boy. There's no victory for you here—no last-minute rescue, no savior charging in to pull you out of this nightmare. All you've managed to achieve is securing an appointment with Yemma. And I, for one, will enjoy watching you die in utter despair."

Ajax didn't reply. Instead, he quietly sent a brief mental message through the connection to the others to avoid any further complications.

Frieza's expression hardened in response to the silence. For the briefest moment, his cold eyes flickered with irritation at being ignored, but it quickly vanished, replaced by a mask of indifference. He seemed ready to forget Ajax entirely, treating him as nothing more than a trivial speck, unworthy of any further attention.

"Goodbye, and good riddance," Frieza sneered, his lips twisting into a cold, contemptuous smile. "Meeting you was far from a pleasure."

Without further comment, Frieza held out his finger and unleashed three death beams.

These were far, far more powerful than the ones Ajax had endured five days earlier in Dende's village, and as a result, they ripped through Ajax's chest virtually unimpeded. Blood erupted from his mouth, a morbid splash of crimson that never reached Frieza—his telekinetic field caught the droplets mid-air, suspending them momentarily before letting them fall to the ground below.

Ajax's body went limp, though his breath still came in shallow gasps. Surprisingly, Ajax felt Frieza's telekinetic grip loosen slightly as well.

His vision blurred, the edges darkening as searing pain lanced through him. For a brief moment, it felt like the world was slipping away, and yet, somehow, he found the strength to force a grin—blood staining his teeth and dribbling down his chin as he curled his lips upward.

He knew Frieza's deliberate loosening of his telekinetic hold was a cruel ploy, offering a sliver of hope to his dying enemy, only to snatch it away, forcing his victims to die in despair, knowing that even their last effort had been meaningless.

Ajax didn't need this window of opportunity to carry out his plan, but since Frieza was handing it to him on a silver platter, why not take it?

His fingers twitched, shaking as he fought against the weakened telekinetic hold, managing to extend a single trembling fist toward Frieza. Frieza remained unmoving, watching Ajax's feeble efforts with half-lidded eyes and an expression of pure boredom.

But Ajax's heart suddenly raced, adrenaline flooding his system. Frieza wasn't paying attention, not really—he had already dismissed Ajax as good as dead, treating this final attempt like a mere formality. It was an extremely reasonable assumption, all things considered. After all, how could a dying opponent pose more of a threat than they had been at full strength?

Out of the corner of Ajax's eye, a familiar flash of electricity arced out.

And that's when Frieza realized something was wrong.

Before Ajax could even process what had happened, Frieza's hand moved—faster than sound, faster than thought—pushing aside his outstretched fist. In the next instant, the Rokuogan's shockwave erupted from Ajax's hand, but it soared harmlessly past Frieza's side, missing by the narrowest margin—mere centimeters. The attack streaked into the distance, a wasted strike.

In the same instant, Ajax's body ignited, engulfed in a furious red aura—his Kaioken ×5. Agony ripped through his limbs, white-hot and relentless, as the surge of power tore at his muscles. But his newfound strength had allowed him to break through Frieza's invisible telekinetic hold, though The Zone crumbled like fragile glass, disintegrating just as he'd feared it might.

The sharp focus that had kept him in the fight was rapidly slipping away, leaving him with nothing but raw, primal determination.

But it didn't matter.

With an agonized roar, Ajax poured every last ounce of his power into a final, devastating strike—his dangerous Pinpoint Impact, enhanced by the Kaioken ×5. He lunged forward, his fist glowing with condensed silver energy, and struck home.

His knuckles slammed into Frieza's cheek, the force detonating a violent shockwave that blasted outward, shaking the battlefield so violently that even those far away could feel it.

Upon impact, there was actually a small sign of success: Frieza's head actually turned to the right from the force of the blow. It was a testament to the power of Ajax's Pinpoint Impact that, despite his relatively meager power level of just over 1.3 million, he had managed to make Frieza move at all.

But against Frieza's overwhelming power of 30 million and the immense Ki barrier that that power can create, Ajax's valiant punch was little more than a breeze in a hurricane. All he had done was tilt Frieza's head—nothing more. That was the best Pinpoint Impact could achieve.

Frieza's lips curled into a sneer as his icy gaze locked onto Ajax's with a look that screamed total superiority. "That was your final attempt? Was it supposed to hurt?" Frieza's voice oozed mockery.

With a casual flick of his tail, Frieza ended it all. The strike was lightning-fast, a whip-like snap that connected with Ajax's neck with a sickening crack. Bone shattered, nerves severed, and Ajax's body went limp as he plummeted helplessly toward the unforgiving ground below.

But even as he plummeted, Ajax's mind remained lucid, alert in a way that defied logic. His capacity to adapt to any current condition—the second half of his adaptation ability—though not enough to save him from the lethal blow, had bought him precious time. His vision dimmed, the last vestiges of the Zone slipping away, but he still had time. Just enough to witness the final stroke of his gambit.

From the corner of his fading vision, he saw it.

The spot on Frieza's cheek, the very spot where Ajax's fist had connected, began to glow with a faint, unnatural light. What started as a tiny spark rapidly brightened, and Ajax felt a faint smirk tug at the corner of his lips at the sight. Frieza might have snapped his neck, but the tyrant was about to learn that he never fought without a backup plan.

Because before the Zone had shattered completely, Ajax had left Frieza with a parting gift.

The ambient Ki—the residual energy scattered for miles, undissipated thanks to Ajax—was coalescing. And it wasn't just gathering aimlessly; it was being drawn directly toward Frieza's cheek, as if by an unseen force. Fast.

This had all been part of the plan—a trick stolen from Jeice, modified and refined. The moment Ajax's punch had landed, he had implanted a seed of influence within Frieza's Ki field, and now that seed was germinating.

Frieza hadn't noticed yet—his lack of Ki sense had prevented him from understanding what was coming. But he would.

Ajax's smirk twisted into a full, bloody grin.

Kamehameha. Masenko. Galick Gun. Bomber DX. Special Beam Cannon. Kaio-ken. Supernova. Every Ki attack, every blast, every ounce of energy unleashed since the start of the battle reappeared in the form of countless glowing motes of light. They materialized around Frieza in an instant, tiny orbs of energy flickering like stars against the dark sky. There were hundreds—no, thousands—of them.

Frieza's eyes widened, his usual arrogance replaced by a look of genuine shock. His gaze darted frantically from side to side as the motes encircled him, floating inches from his skin, growing brighter with each heartbeat. He tried to shake them off, to rub them away, but to no avail.

In the span of two breaths, the gathered energy had formed a shimmering, radiant armor of pure Ki around Frieza.

From the ground below, Ajax, barely hanging on, raised his trembling hand. His mind, crumbling but still sharp, gave one final command as his fingers clenched into a fist.

'CONVERGENCE!!'

The moment the word echoed in his mind, the motes of light surrounding Frieza quivered, then ignited. There was no buildup, no warning. The explosion was instant, violent, and all-consuming, instantly engulfing Frieza in a blinding sphere of destruction.

The scale of the blast surpassed anything Ajax had ever unleashed before.

The sound alone was overwhelming—a thunderous roar, as though the earth itself was screaming. The ground shook violently, forcing the other Z Fighters to brace themselves as the shockwave surged across the battlefield. Trees were torn from the earth, the terrain shattered, and the sky above seemed to crack open as the raw energy consumed everything in its wake.

But Ajax had anticipated this. He had estimated the blast radius and positioned himself far enough away from the others to give them a chance to escape the explosion, hence his earlier attempt to "flee."

When the dust finally cleared, Ajax discovered that he had somehow survived the blast. His body was so mangled it resembled charcoal more than flesh, but he was still alive. The heat had scorched every nerve, rendering the experience relatively painless, but he still stubbornly clung to consciousness—if only for a few more moments.

Through the haze of his fading senses, Ajax saw the result of his final gambit.

Frieza emerged from the heart of the explosion, stepping through the lingering smoke with an aura of dark power rippling around him. His crimson eyes blazed with unrestrained fury, and for the first time in the battle, his immaculate appearance was blemished.

Faint scorch marks speckled his otherwise flawless skin, barely visible across his body. But there on his cheek—right where Ajax had landed his punch—blood trickled. It was the first real blood drawn from Frieza since he had unleashed 25% of his power. The first tangible mark on the emperor's seemingly invincible form.

Frieza's lips twisted into a snarl, his eyes narrowing as they locked onto Ajax, who lay broken on the ground. There was no longer any trace of mockery or condescension—only raw, seething rage. And Ajax had been the one to trigger it.

But lying there, battered and broken, Ajax didn't feel fear. He didn't feel crushed by the oppressive weight of Frieza's immense power and rage. No, what Ajax felt—was satisfaction.

Because, even if Frieza had survived, Ajax had drawn blood and proved one critical thing: that Frieza was not invincible.

And for now, that was enough.

With the last remnants of his strength, Ajax gathered what little Ki remained within him. His body was failing, his vision dimming, but his task wasn't over. One final act remained. Reaching deep inside, he pulled the last threads of energy to his shattered neck.

With a faint crackle of Ki, Ajax forced his neck to function one last time.

And laughed.

But before Frieza could strike again, before his fury could explode into another lethal attack, Ajax's body began to glow. And right before Frieza's furious eyes, Ajax dissolved into countless motes of light that streaked into the distance, returning to the original body.