Kakarot! Kakarot!—Broly’s Frenzied Rage Crushes Frieza and Ignites Against Renkai’s Goku Masquerade

The untamed wilds of New Planet Vegeta stretched beneath a bruised sky, jagged cliffs and half-built towns trembling under Broly's fury. Ginyu's ashes still drifted on the wind—his body-swap a fleeting spark snuffed by Broly's green qigong bomb. Ginyu: gone. Frieza staggered through the dust, silver armor cracked, blo

od seeping from beneath his shattered mask. Frieza: 2 billion (Fifth Form). His enhanced form—forged in a year of icy torment—crumpled against Broly's relentless onslaught. Broly: 7 billion (Legendary Super Saiyan). Golden hair blazed, muscles rippled, and his white eyes burned with unhinged rage.

"Damn you, Saiyan!" Frieza rasped, voice hoarse as he dodged another volley of green qigong bombs. Each blast gouged the earth, sending shockwaves that toppled Paragus's cosmic soldiers like straw. Broly's roars drowned the chaos, a primal howl of "Sacrifice!" echoing over the plateau. Paragus, crouched behind a boulder, winced as his own troops shattered under stray blasts. "Control it, you fool!" he shouted, voice lost in the din. His son's power was a double-edged blade—unstoppable, yet blind to friend or foe.

Frieza zigzagged, desperation sharpening his instincts. Broly's fury surged, a new qigong bomb coalescing in his fist—not for Frieza, but for the scattering soldiers below. The emerald sphere arced, detonating in a blinding flash. Bodies vaporized, screams silenced, the ground scarred with a smoking crater. Paragus's forces froze, abandoning their pursuit of Frieza's fleeing legionnaires to cower at a distance. "He's lost it!" a soldier wailed, retreating further from the rampaging titan.

Frieza's breath hitched, his pride a battered ember. "I'll outlast you yet," he muttered, weaving through the barrage. But Broly's rage was a tide—unrelenting, inevitable. The Saiyan's laughter grew wilder, his focus narrowing to the fleeing Emperor, a predator savoring the chase.

Far across the stars, Frieza's headquarters buzzed with frantic energy. Gudu—pudgy, green-skinned, four-eyed—scrambled under the weight of Ginyu's relayed order. "Dragon Balls—King Frieza's in peril!" he panted, waddling to a reinforced vault. His stubby hands pried it open, revealing seven glowing orbs—Renkai's set, claimed after Cooler's fall. He hauled them to an open plaza, the alien sky above swirling with storm clouds. Soldiers paused, their detectors glinting as they watched him dump the spheres in a clumsy pile.

"Come out, Shenron!" Gudu cried, arms thrust skyward. Thunder cracked, the air thickening with an apocalyptic pressure that pressed on every chest. Frieza's legion stared, awestruck, as golden light spiraled upward, coalescing into Renkai's towering form—cyan scales shimmering, red eyes piercing, hundreds of meters of divine might unfurling against the heavens.

Renkai's gaze swept the scene—armored figures, alien architecture, a planet unlike Earth's green embrace. "Frieza's lot, huh?" he rumbled, voice a low quake that rattled the ground. His eyes settled on Gudu, recognition sparking. Ginyu Force—Gudu. "Speak your wish," he commanded, tail coiling lazily.

Gudu bowed, trembling but reverent. "Mr. Shenron, please—go to New Planet Vegeta! Save King Frieza and Captain Ginyu from danger!" His voice quavered, respect honed by Frieza's and Ginyu's insistence on honoring this dragon—unlike Polunga's brusque indifference.

Renkai's mind flashed to Namek—Frieza's summons against Cooler, a familiar dance. "Easy enough," he said, a draconic smirk curling his lips. A claw snapped, and his form dissolved into golden streaks, streaking across dimensions. Ding! Time Stop acquired. Golden Binding acquired. Object Control acquired. The system chimed, power flooding his arsenal as he materialized above New Vegeta's war-torn sprawl.

The battlefield was a maelstrom of dust and fury. Frieza darted across the scarred earth, his silver form a flickering shadow against Broly's golden blaze. Renkai hovered, scales glinting in the dim light, taking in the scene. Frieza's new transformation—exoskeletal, masked, a Cooler-esque shell—dangled on the edge of collapse. Frieza: 2 billion. "Pathetic," Renkai muttered, shaking his head. This wasn't the golden Frieza of his world, nor the black-gold titan of legend—just a theatrical knockoff, outclassed by Broly's raw might.

Below, Broly's grip closed around Frieza's neck, hoisting him aloft like a broken toy. "Blood!" he snarled, fist hammering Frieza's face. The mask splintered, blood spraying as Frieza's voice cracked in a ragged plea. "Shenron—save me!" His silver sheen dulled, each punch a tolling bell of defeat. Renkai watched, unmoved. "Thought you'd hold out longer, 'King,'" he said, voice dry with mock pity.

Broly's white eyes flicked upward, locking on Renkai. "Who're you? Never seen you…" His snarl twisted into a grin. "Doesn't matter—Frieza bleeds, then you!" His voice was a guttural promise, sanity drowned in bloodlust. Paragus, perched on his distant vantage, cackled wildly. "Reinforcements won't save him—Broly's invincible! I'd rule the cosmos if he weren't a rabid dog!" Pride warred with frustration, his son a weapon too wild to wield.

Renkai's gaze slid past Paragus—a petty schemer, irrelevant but for spawning this beast. "Know him?" he asked Broly, shedding his draconic shell. Light flared, his form shrinking, reshaping—spiky black hair, orange gi, Goku's spitting image. Transformation Technique. The air stilled, a heartbeat of silence before the storm.

Broly's reaction was cataclysmic. His aura exploded, hair flashing green, power spiking beyond reason. Broly: 8 billion (Unstable). "Kakarot! Kakarot! Kakarot!" he screamed, a primal wail that shook the cliffs. Frieza slipped from his grasp, flung aside like a discarded husk, crashing into the dirt with a groan. Broly's sanity snapped, obsession igniting a wildfire of rage. Lightning crackled around him, his fist arcing toward Renkai's face with murderous intent.

Frieza coughed, blood pooling beneath him, eyes wide as Broly charged. "Shenron—do something!" he rasped, voice a broken thread. Renkai's Goku guise held steady, a faint smirk playing on his lips as the Saiyan's fist closed in, the air itself screaming under the pressure of Broly's unleashed might.

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