"For what is man without his pride, his freedom…his ability to choose his own fate?"

-Author Unkown.

Far off, on a once peaceful planet…

Monster.

To so many, that's all he was. Something to be feared, to be controlled. To be killed, before he even had a chance to live. Even the one person in the whole of the universe that should have seen something different in him chose instead to turn him into little more than a slave. He supposed that it might have been better than this alternative, being a slave to his own strength and memories, memories that, by all rights, he should not have. A power that he had been born with, enslaving his every action, every sense, everything. He saw what was going on outside his reverie, saw with eyes that were his own, but not his own. His wrathful side, his powerful side, always in control, owned him, was him. He didn't remember the last time that he had actually been in control of himself. Then again, he remembered one time, and he recalled that he had had no memory of being trapped like this, so it could have been yesterday, for all he knew.

Dimly, he was aware of screams of pain and fear reaching the ears that were his and yet not his, and realized, with a great deal of regret, that they were the screams of children, their mothers, their families. He heard the pain in their voices, saw the fear in their eyes, and was powerless to stop himself. He hated himself for it. Then a thought came to him: His controller was still alive; the band was still on the head that belonged to him and was not his. He wasn't doing it, not of his own volition. That other had to be doing it.

The realization gave him some comfort, but it was miniscule in the face of everything that he still had to despair about.

The screams came again, different this time, and louder. There were more. He peered out of the eyes that were supposed to be his and saw mothers holding their infants. They screamed, clutching their precious children to their breasts, crying as they knew they were about to die. He saw his arm raise up, heard his voice laugh insanely. Green light flashed from his hand, forming into a ball, illuminating his surroundings in a sickly green cast. Crackling, it sat in his palm, pulsing steadily. His arm pointed at the group of mothers, and his heart dropped as he realized what was about to happen. He roared silently, internally, and raged with all of his might against the bonds that held him tight, a prisoner in his own mind. He broke the first chain as the sphere in his hand grew larger. The second chain shattered into fragments as the laugh, that insane deeping laugh, sounded again. He screamed again, and wrenched free of all but the last two chains. He snarled, and lunged forward, snapping the chains in twain. They fell to the floor and clinked like coins.

Too late.

He howled in self-hatred as the sphere of power was released from his palm and shot towards the group of mothers. He didn't bother looking; he knew they were dead. Silence, blessed silence rang loudly in his ears, save for his own crying. He curled up into a ball and abandoned himself to his misery.

The tall, elegantly dressed man smiled maliciously, a sight made all the more ghastly by the fact that he was missing an eye. "Good work, my son." The young man standing twenty-odd feet to his right nodded in acknowledgement. His aura died down, his hair returning to black from its odd shade of purple and relaxing from its semi-rigid state. As always, when he powered down, an odd blankness of demeanor came over him, almost a robot-like, dull trance. It always unnerved his father. I shall have to find some way to deal with him when I finally find that idiotic princeling Vegeta. He has become far too unpredictable – that is the third time he's nearly broken loose like that. The one-eyed man shook his head as if to clear his thoughts, and refocused. At least this trip wasn't a total waste – I now know where the little prince is –or was, at least – and I can track him down. I shall not be denied my revenge! Almost unconsciously, his right hand curled into a fist, power crackling loudly in the air around it. His other hand traveled to his chest, grasping a locket. And perhaps I can avenge you…and our race.

He turned sharply on his heels and delicately picked his way over the scorched and mangled corpses in the hallway – Unfortunate that they had to be in the way, he thought – and exited the hospital – which, he belatedly realized, said quite plainly on the front that it was a children's hospital – and took off into the air, heading back towards his ship. Behind him, his son followed, opting to simply blast his way out. Masonry flew everywhere, one rather large piece catching him on the foot. He cursed and swerved out of the way of another, larger piece. He looked back and saw his son streaking towards him in an arc, aura flaring yellow. The man frowned and turned his head back towards his destination.

Somewhere in space…

"Goku... GOKU!" King Kai screamed telepathically at the Saiyan. "What is it, King Kai?" Goku asked. Nestled in the pod, Goku sat up as far as the space would allow him to. His hair was still golden, but now whiter in appearance. Having achieved the legendary transformation of the Saiyans, Goku was understandably reluctant to let it go, draining as it was. After a while, though, the strain had disappeared, and Goku found that it was no more stressful to hold it as it was for him to be in base.

"You have to go back to Namek! Frieza's getting into more than he knows! Vegeta is on the verge of transforming, and he's got something up his sleeve!" Goku frowned. "Alright, if you say so. But…how do I work this thing?" Goku tapped a few buttons and the signs that were on the outside of the ship started flashing. "Can't you just use that thing you learned on Yardrat? Yes, I was watching that." Goku frowned again and put his fingers into the familiar position, but put them back down. "Nope, too far. Maybe when I get closer…" King Kai sighed. "Hang on, let me get someone…" King Kai switched over to King Yemma.

Otherworld, the Check-In station

King Kai's voice emanated from thin air. "Yemma! I need someone who can operate an Attack Ball!" Yemma growled. "I'm swamped here, King Kai! Some crazy killer has murdered millions, and caused paperwork headaches for me and everyone else – his name disappeared from the papers a few minutes after they appeared!" King Kai started yelling. "This is a matter of the utmost importance, Yemma! If you don't listen to me, I'll give you a headache! I taught you, so you know I can! Now do it!" Yemma cringed; he did not want to deal with an angry King Kai. "Fine, fine…I'll call up…let's see…ah. Bardock!"A flash of light lit up the Check-In station, and a Saiyan warrior with messy hair and blood streaming from a wound on his face appeared.

"Frieza!...Wait…what's going on? Where am I? Who…who are you? Wait…I remember…I…Frieza threw the energy ball…and then...what happened? Did I go…"Yemma interrupted his musings and said, "King Kai has called for you. Go through that door, Bardock, and go to King Kai's planet." When Bardock didn't move at first, Yemma thundered out angrily, "Now GO! I have a lot of work to do!" The force of the shout woke Bardock from his reverie and hurled him through said door. Bardock shot off like a rocket, still trying to understand what was going on, and why he felt so light. A memory came back to him – a vision of his…A lone warrior, racing off against Frieza… "My son. Kakarot…" he murmured. Another memory came to his head, one of his own. A flash into the past…a fight against another tyrant…and then that power. The memory of that power engulfed him, and his aura flashed golden, as did his hair. Then, with a yell, he transformed, golden light illuminating the area around him.

Behind Bardock, King Yemma hunched back over his work, grumbling as he surveyed the massive amount of souls he had to judge. Before he could even make a dent in it, though, another huge stack of papers materialized on his desk, barely missing his head by a matter of inches. He swore violently and banged his fist on his desk. "What now?! I have enough to deal with this character, so what now?!" He pulled the top papers down and looked at the name slapped on them – bright greenish yellow – and groaned. "Broly…Just great."

Namek

"Vegeta? That you?" Nappa's grating voice rang through the scouter. How the thing was still working was beyond Frieza, but it was. "Nappa, shut it," Vegeta grunted. He pulled himself up, and was surprised that the pain wasn't as severe as it had been a few seconds ago. But cuts were opening up on his skin as he watched. Not big ones, but they were there. Vegeta growled, and his aura flashed out, orange. The scouter beeped, registering an increasing power level. "Oh, stay down, Vegeta," Frieza muttered. Vegeta didn't listen, standing up a bit straighter. His aura flashed. Orange, Frieza noted. The scouter continued to beep as Vegeta's power continued to increase. "Back up to 900,000…2,000,000…Huh. You certainly can't keep this up for long, Vegeta." Frieza tapped the scouter to turn off the sensing function to keep it from exploding. "Vegeeeeta? Are you there?" Vegeta zapped a beam at the scouter to shut the voice up, but Frieza dodged it. Tapping a different button, Frieza shut it off totally. "I…I can do this…HeeeeeaaaAAAAUUUGHHH!" Vegeta screamed as he powered up, the force coming off him blasting Escar and Dende away like weeds.

Frieza caught them, and hopped away to a safer spot. There, he put them down and told them to stay back. They nodded shakily, and Dende started healing Frieza's few scrapes. But the Arcosian pulled his hand away. "We don't have the time for that…If what is happening is what I suspect…We are all in a lot of trouble."

"What do you think is happening, Frieza?" asked Escar. "When I was fighting Goku, he used a technique to rapidly increase his strength many times over, before he turned Super Saiyan. Vegeta tried to copy it, but since he was on the verge of transforming, the two powers collided and merged…The damage it must be doing to his body has to be immense, but the power gain would be too," the overlord said. "I'm not sure if I can win this." He handed the scouter to Dende. "Take care of this for me, please." With that, he blasted off after the Saiyan prince, intent on stopping him from powering up.

Vegeta screamed in pain as his power shot up. His hair turned a darker shade of orange, and his aura became violently sawlike. Out of the corner of his eye, e saw Frieza coming to stop him. He grinned despite his pain and waited till he was about to be struck, then he spun and landed a powerful punch on Frieza's left cheek. The Arcosian flew backwards, performing an aerial backflip to right himself. He rubbed his jawline and landed, raising his guard as Vegeta flew at him.

Alright then, so now you know why Vegeta's hair is orange now. He's going to be in pretty bad shape after the fight is over, no matter if he wins or not. And a hint on who "Vibuleu" is, it's a mixed-up name. Think pink and grey. Broly is coming! Hope you guys like the way I portrayed him! Thanks to Royal Devil for giving me an idea into Broly's mentality. See ya next week!