This Lord Freeza...you shattered your arm on Dodoria's, before you began to consume it. If you had been stopped by Dodoria's ki, if that it what it was...it burns at your pride to say it, but you would not have stood a chance in combat. And Freeza must be monumentally more powerful than Dodoria, to inspire such terror. Utterly ruthless, and sadistic, without concern for allies or enemies. Thousands of years, searching for a way to increase the power of the Masks. It cost you your species, and your closest friends. Esidisi. Wammu. Everything, sacrificed, to become the ultimate life form.
And now you see that it is still so small. It feels like ash in your mouth.
But you are a practical man. This is simply a setback, one that you will overcome, like Hamon and the limitations of your kind.
You sink to a knee, your hair tumbling around your face. You have not bowed like since since the second-to-last time you saw your father.
You cannot recall his face, anymore.
"Lord Freeza-" you begin to say to the floor. You are interrupted by Freeza tsking in dissaporval.
"Now, now, that won't do. Look at your master when you speak, unless you feel the tiles are more deserving of your words."
You look up. Freeza's face is one of naked gloating and arrogance.
One day, you will remove that smile with your blade and feed on it.
"There was no technique," you say simply, slipping into a dry, formal tone, "I simply devoured his arm. It is how my species feeds; we absorb our food directly into our bodies, without needing to eat with our mouths."
Freeza leans forward. "Interesting. Does this happen with every living thing you touch?"
"No, Lord Freeza. We can control it; we will only consume if we desire to."
"Good. It'd won't do to have one of my soldiers get eaten because he happened to bump into you in the mess hall, would it?"
Apparently, this was a joke, as a wave of clearly forced laughter runs through the remaining technicians.
"And as for your name...?"
"Kars, my Lord. My name is Kars. It has been so long since I have had to-"
But Freeza has already turned away. "You will meet with Zarbon in 30 minutes for your post and equipment in the armory. Do what you like until then."
He begins to drive his vehicle towards the door, but stops, and turns partway around again. "Actually, I'd rather you don't eat any more of my men. I'll forgive you for Dodoria's arm, but consider that your one pass. If it happens again..." the friendly tone drops out of his voice. "No one will find you this time."
You bow your head, then look back at him. "I understand, Lord Freeza."
"Good. Oh, one more favor, clean up that mess over there for me."
You walk over to the dead technician. The living ones in the room watch nervously as you press a finger to the hole in his head.
It's still boiling hot to the touch.
The technicians in the room flinch as you being to absorb the dead man. He shrivels like a fruit, until eventually all that is left is the armor and underclothes.
"You may keep that," Freeza says, "There are dress codes aboard this ship, which you do not meet at present. Collect the rest of your things as well."
Freeza, finally, leaves the room.
Rest of your things? You turn back to the spot where your emerged from your shell. You remember, you left the Earth with one unique thing-something valuable indeed. You see it in the pile of stone; imprisoned with you, your body had coated it in a layer of perfect mother-of-pearl, like a mollusk. But you can still tell from the shape, that it is-
[] A single, long horn, and a few motes of dust and ash. All that was left of Wammu, your soldier, friend, servant, and son in all but blood.
[] The Red Stone of Aja.
[] The hand of Joseph Joestar, perfectly preserved within your body as fresh as the day it was severed.
[] Nothing. Just a few pebbles from the volcano. Freeza was only mocking you. [Will more easily gain the trust of certain people]
