Prologue: The Emperor's Black Throne

"Well?" Vegeta snarled. He sat in a throne. It was sleek, ovular, and black, with white rims and three gold prongs erecting into the air. Like Freeza's chair before his, it hovered. It was floating above the end of a carpet that was stretched across the narrow throne room like a frog's tongue. That thin tongue of red was the only color in the otherwise white and black environs.

Even Vegeta, lounging in his throne, wore battle armor white as a doctor's coat. The pointed pauldrons on his shoulders and his breastplate, all in the style of the old armor Freeza's men wore on Namek, were glazed over with an opal sheen that glistened when in the light.

Yet there was no light in this room. The walls towered high, high above like a Gothic cathedral, and hidden in the very top of these walls were windows. Little of the outside light found its way through their intricate lacework; thus the darkness was free to shroud the room with its blinding presence.

Withough the two bowls of fire roaring on both sides of his throne, Vegeta would not have been able to see the face of the pink-skinned alien quaking beneath him.

"I'm afraid, Emperor," the alien stammered with fear for his very life, "the soldiers did not arrive in time."

"What?" Vegeta leapt from his throne.

The red carpet and marble floor cracked beneath his feet as he bored his eyes into the alien, "I purposely directed them to leave at noon— no more, no less! I wasted my breath and my time, lengthening the message, all so that they would arrive exactly when needed. And now you tell me that my words fell on deaf ears, that my words were in vain?"

Vegeta scooped up the bulbous pink alien by his jowls and began to throttle the floundering creature. The creature motioned to Vegeta pleadingly. Vegeta loosened his grip to let the thing speak.

"I-I-they," the alien wheezed, "The men left when you told them to leave. I did not forget to deliver your command. But-but somehow they knew. They must have received warning. No one was there. Not one man, woman, or child. Not even any traces of them."

Vegeta narrowed his eyes and carefully squeezed the creature's neck until the thing squealed for mercy. Again, Vegeta loosened his grip enough for the alien to speak.

"And?" Vegeta said as if there was another question hidden within his own, too horrifying to speak aloud. The alien, though near out of his wits with terror, still understood. He coughed and a small rivulet of green blood leaked out of the corner of his mouth.

Struggling, he managed to reply, "My Emperor, she was gone, as well. They searched and searched but could not find her."

"How unfortunate for you," hissed Vegeta with a face as impassive as a rock. The pink alien burst into tears.

"B-but!" he howled, "I am only a messenger. It is the message that offends, not I!"

"No," Vegeta smirked stiffly, as if he had not done so in a long time, "It is not the message that offends me. It's that damn bloated face of yours. It reminds me of a beast I already slew. I shall delight to slay him again in you, if only to do him credit. Now die."

A blue-white glow formed around Vegeta's hand. Then, it seemed like a miniature earthquake shook the whole room. The alien's head exploded into a thousand parts, plummeting blood in every direction. Vegeta's hand and face were drenched with the viscous green liquid.

"Woman," Vegeta whispered through his hand, wiping away the blood from his face as the alien's body collapsed lifelessly to the floor, "Woman, I swear by the Legendary Super Saiyajin— yes, I swear by myself, I will kill you."

How did it come to this?