Frieza vs Darkseid

The Arena

Frieza had conquered so many worlds that he had grown bored, and boredom is dangerous in a tyrant. When he learned of a planet called Apokolips, ruled by a god who claimed absolute dominion over his universe, he decided it would make a fine addition to his empire.

He landed on the burning surface, surrounded by fire pits and endless armies of Parademons, and found Darkseid waiting on his throne, utterly calm. “You are in my universe,” Darkseid said. “You will kneel, or you will be erased.” Frieza laughed, his tail swishing. “How charmingly old-fashioned.”

Round One

Frieza struck first, a Death Beam from his fingertip fast enough to pierce a planet. Darkseid did not move. The beam struck his chest and dissipated like water on stone. Frieza frowned. That had never happened before.

Darkseid’s eyes glowed red. The Omega Beams fired, two crimson streams that bent around corners, curved through the air and followed Frieza no matter how fast he flew. They struck him in the back and burned through his armor. Frieza screamed, more from outrage than pain.

Frieza dodged the next pair of beams, then the next, flying faster and faster across the burning landscape. The beams followed him through fire pits and towers, turning when he turned, never losing him. For the first time in his long life of conquest, the emperor was being hunted.

The Turn

Frieza abandoned his smugness and transformed into his ultimate form, Black Frieza, his power multiplying many times over. He struck Darkseid with a blow that cracked the burning surface of Apokolips for a hundred kilometres. For the first time, Darkseid took a step back.

Then Darkseid smiled, an expression worse than any rage. He has faced the New Gods, the Justice League and the Source itself. The Omega Beams fired again, and this time they did not just burn. They began to erase Frieza from existence, piece by piece.

Frieza felt his arm go numb, then begin to fade, the edges of his body turning to nothing. He tore free of the beam with a scream and stared at his flickering hand in horror. Nothing had ever threatened to simply delete him.

The Finish

Frieza fled across Apokolips, hurling planet-destroying blasts behind him. Darkseid walked after him without hurrying. The Omega Beams followed Frieza through every dodge, every barrier, every trick he knew, wearing him down.

At last, cornered at the edge of a fire pit, Frieza turned and threw everything he had left into a Supernova, a sphere of destruction the size of a moon. Darkseid caught it in the Omega Effect and unmade it as if it had never existed.

Then he lifted Frieza by the throat. “You are not an emperor,” he said. “You are a child playing with planets.” He threw Frieza back through the rift he had come from, broken and humiliated. Frieza swore revenge. Darkseid had already forgotten him.