Terms And conditions Apply : Invoicing The Apocalypse

The Pledged Heart's Balance Sheet

"Dad? How can you be here? Weren't you... weren't you gone since the first day of the invasion?" Freza stepped back, his eyes trembling violently as he stared at the man sitting calmly amidst thousands of heart canisters.

The man removed his reading glasses, offering a thin smile with facial lines identical to the photo in Freza’s wallet. "Freza, Freza... my most rational son. I never truly left. I just... moved divisions. To a more strategic top management position."

"STRATEGIC HOW?!" Freza barked, his hand pointing at the thousands of hearts pulsing in neon solution. "What is this, Dad? Are you trying to tell me these thousands of floating human hearts are just 'office assets'? Are you insane?!"

"Don't be emotional, Freza. It’s unprofessional," the man replied, his voice remaining calm even as the wipeout sirens wailed above their heads. "Technically, these aren't hearts. These are Biological Processing Units. Far more cost-effective than using mana crystals, which are currently inflating because of the war in the neighboring galaxy."

"Cost-effective? You’re talking about human lives like they’re pen stock in a warehouse!" Freza clenched his fists, his chest tightening. "I’m auditing you right now! Balance Sheet Audit: Total Forensics!"

Freza’s eyes glowed gold. Giant sheets of data overflowed in front of him, obscuring his view of the man who looked like his father. Rows of red numbers appeared on every heart canister.

"Huh? The status... 'Loaned Item'? 'Pledged Ownership'?" Freza muttered in shock. "Dad, all these hearts... they aren't dead yet?"

"Of course not. If they die, the signal is lost. They are merely in a state of administrative hibernation," the man answered while sipping black coffee, the aroma of which Freza recognized all too well. "The Consortium needs computing power to run the new Earth simulation. And they decided to use the hearts of Jakarta citizens as local servers. Efficient, isn't it?"

"HOW IS THAT EFFICIENT, YOU IDIOT?!" a shrill voice screamed from the comms in Freza’s ear. "Freza! Citra and I are getting hammered by robot troops in Corridor B! These robots are using real bullets, man! Not magic bullets! It hurts like hell, damn it!"

"Qoriski! Hold on! Where are you?!" Freza replied into his earphone mic.

"I’m in front of the oxygen pipe door! Citra says if this pipe is cut, the whole ship will suffocate! But I’m afraid of getting a pay cut if I damage the facilities!" Qoriski shouted amidst the sound of rapid gunfire.

"Qor, listen to me! Just cut the pipe! Call it a 'Disaster Mitigation Action'! Do it now!" Freza commanded.

"Okay, Boss! OXYGEN SMASH!" The loud boom of Qoriski’s hammer echoed, followed by a loud hissing sound over the radio.

Freza turned back to the man in front of him. "Listen, 'Dad.' You might look like my father, but your way of thinking is pure corporate trash. Do you realize your actions violate Article 1 of the Multiverse Sentient Rights Convention?"

"That article was amended two weeks ago by the Consortium, Freza. Check the latest P*F attachment they sent to all Admins' emails," the man said, pointing to the large screen behind him. "This world no longer belongs to the old laws. Now, the law belongs to whoever holds the largest assets."

"Is that so? Fine," Freza smirked coldly, his fingers beginning to type at an insane speed in the air. "In that case, I’m invoking the 'Unsettled Legal Ownership' clause. Dad, do you know why the status of these hearts is still 'Pledged' and not 'Company Owned'?"

The man frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Simple. Based on my audit records, the Consortium hasn't paid the 'Soul Land Acquisition Tax' to Earth! That means, legally, these hearts still belong to each individual! And as the official Liquidator appointed by that very amendment, I’ve just issued a seizure warrant for this entire heart server for failure to pay taxes!"

[WARNING: UNAUTHORIZED SEIZURE DETECTED]

[WIPEOUT PROTOCOL HALTED FOR LEGAL REVIEW]

"Damn it... you actually found a loophole," the man muttered, his face beginning to crack like a hologram suffering from signal interference. "You really are my most meticulous son."

"Stop calling me 'son.' You’re just a memory simulation installed by the Consortium to break my spirit, aren't you?" Freza stepped forward, walking right through the hologram of the man which was now flickering. "I audited your DNA earlier. You only have a ten percent match. The rest? Rotten binary code!"

"FREZA!" Citra shouted from behind the server door that had just exploded. She burst in, her body covered in robot oil, dragging a dizzy-looking Qoriski. "Hurry! The main console is under the largest canister! Shut it down now before they send an override signal!"

"I’m trying! But the console is locked with a biometric encryption key!" Freza tried pressing the control panel, but a red 'X' kept appearing on the screen.

"Biometric lock? Using what? Fingerprints?" Qoriski asked, struggling to stand straight.

"Using a heartbeat!" Freza shouted in frustration. "The system is asking for a heartbeat frequency identical to the 'Primary Admin'! And the Primary Admin is... that simulation of my Dad!"

"Wait, but the Dad guy is gone? Then what? Are we all dead?!" Qoriski began to panic, seeing the wipeout timer resume at 30 seconds.

"Citra! Is there any other way?!" Freza turned to the Chief of Security.

"There isn't! It’s a hard-coded security system! Unless... unless you can manipulate your own heartbeat to match the target!" Citra replied while parrying shots from the entrance.

Freza closed his eyes. He remembered his father’s heartbeat the last time they sat together. A slow rhythm, slightly irregular due to asthma. He tried to regulate his breathing, synchronizing his pulse with the data he had extracted from the simulation memory earlier.

"Freza! Ten seconds left! I swear, I don't want to die as ash on an alien ship!" Qoriski screamed hysterically.

"Shut up, Qor! I’m focusing!" Freza pressed his palm against the biometric sensor.

Thump... thump... thump-thump...

The holographic screen flickered from red to yellow.

"Five seconds!" Citra yelled.

"Come on... come on... accept my invoice, you piece of junk system!" Freza growled.

Thump... thump... thump-thump...

[BIOMETRIC MATCH: 98.5%]

[ACCESS GRANTED]

[WIPEOUT PROTOCOL CANCELLED]

The entire ship shook violently as the main engine suddenly died. The red lights turned to a bright white. The thousands of heart canisters stopped glowing, but their pulses remained stable.

"Hah... hah... crazy... my own heart almost stopped," Qoriski slumped to the floor, gasping for air. "Freza, you’re seriously insane. You can trick a sensor with just a heartbeat?"

"It’s called real-time biological data manipulation, Qor. Don't try it unless you're desperate," Freza wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"Don't celebrate yet," Citra approached Freza with a serious expression. "You only shut down the cleanup protocol. You haven't disconnected these hearts from the Andromeda central server. If we pull them out forcefully, they’ll all be brain dead."

"Then what do we do, Citra? Are we supposed to wait here until your bosses show up with a new army?" Qoriski asked.

"We need a higher-level Whistleblower," Freza stared at the console screen. "Citra, you said you have access to the asset shipping logs, right?"

"I do. But it’s encrypted with a ten-thousand-bit RSA key. It would take a thousand years to break it," Citra answered.

"I don't need a thousand years. I only need one 'Address Typo'." Freza smirked. "Look at this. In the destination list for these hearts, they wrote 'Sector 6 - Asset Warehouse.' Even though administratively, this area is now the 'Freza-Qoriski Special Economic Zone'."

"What’s the connection, Boss?" Qoriski was baffled.

"The connection is... this shipment was sent to the wrong address! And according to intergalactic logistics regulations, goods sent to the wrong address that have already been unsealed meaning, plugged into the server automatically become the property of the location recipient as compensation for the inconvenience!"

"Wow... Freza, you really are ruthless," Qoriski shook his head. "So you mean, the hearts of these Jakartans now legally belong to... us?"

"Not to us, but under the 'Guardianship of the Apocalypse Collection Office.' We’re going to return them to their respective bodies, but the Consortium has to pay a late return penalty of one thousand percent!"

Suddenly, a much deeper and more authoritative laugh echoed from all the ship's speakers. It wasn't the voice of Freza’s father simulation, nor was it the Curator. It was a voice that made Citra immediately kneel in terror.

"Interesting. Very interesting. A little auditor from a low-class planet dares to demand a fine from the owners of the galaxy?"

A purple portal gate opened in the middle of the room. From within emerged a being wearing clothes made of woven starlight. Its face was invisible; there was only one giant eye in the center of its head.

"Freza... who... who is that? His level... why is it... a question mark?!" Qoriski trembled so hard his gavel slipped from his grip.

"That is... The Chairman," Citra whispered with a shaking voice. "Freza, run... You can't audit the being that created the very concept of value..."

The Chairman stepped forward. Every step made the gravity in the room feel ten times heavier. "Freza. You have played very well. But this game is too expensive to continue. I am not here to negotiate. I am here to... perform a manual asset deletion."

The being raised its hand, and suddenly, the thousands of heart canisters began to crack simultaneously.

"WAIT!" Freza shouted, struggling against the gravitational weight crushing his chest. "You can't do that! I have proof that you’ve been conducting insider trading on the galactic stock exchange using human soul energy!"

The Chairman paused. Its giant eye stared at Freza. "Proof? From where?"

Freza pulled out an old holographic flash drive he had found in the pocket of his father’s simulation earlier. "My Dad... my real Dad didn't die on the first day of the invasion. He was kidnapped because he had this proof, didn't he? He worked for you as an internal auditor before you finally 'liquidated' him!"

The room fell deathly silent. Citra and Qoriski stared at Freza in disbelief.

"So... your Dad was actually a great auditor, Freza?" Qoriski asked softly.

"He was the best. And he left one last loophole for me," Freza held up the flash drive. "Inside here is the access code to the Consortium’s 'Secret Vault.' If I hit the 'Upload' button, all your filth will be broadcast across the entire galaxy! Do you want your throne destroyed today?"

The Chairman fell silent. Its killing aura slowly faded, replaced by a cold curiosity. "What do you want, Auditor?"

"Simple," Freza smirked, even as blood began to leak from his nose due to the gravitational pressure. "I want you to sign a debt acknowledgment letter. Earth is no longer your asset. Earth is your creditor. And you... you are the debtor who must pay until this apocalypse is settled in full!"

Just as the Chairman was about to answer, a massive explosion rocked the mothership. It didn't come from inside; the explosion came from... outside the ship?

"Report! An unknown fleet is attacking us!" a panicked system voice screamed.

"Who?!" the Chairman barked.

The large screen in the room displayed thousands of small warships with a logo that was very familiar to Freza. The logo of a local insurance company from Jakarta that he used to audit frequently.

"That’s... that’s the logo of the insurance company where I used to work?!" Freza gaped.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Freza," a woman’s voice crackled over the comms frequency. "We are from the Earth Life Insurance Collection Division. We noticed a suspicious mass claim at your location. We are here to ensure... your apocalypse premium has been paid."

Freza burst into laughter, a laugh that sounded almost manic. "Crazy... absolutely insane! Even the insurance company wants a piece of the collection?!"

However, the joy stopped when the Chairman suddenly vanished and reappeared right in front of Freza, choking him with a hand made of light.

"You think that petty insurance can stop me? I am the master of time, Freza. And the time for you has..."

Suddenly, the Chairman’s body froze. Not because of a physical attack, but because of a notification that appeared right in his pupil.

[NOTICE: YOUR EXISTENCE HAS BEEN DECLARED AS A 'NON-PERFORMING ASSET']

[REASON: VIOLATION OF THE UNIVERSAL ETHICS CODE SECTION 9]

[COMMENCING... IMMEDIATE FORFEITURE]

"What?! Who dares to fire me?!" the Chairman roared.

From the shadows emerged an old man in a worn-out suit, carrying a dusty old briefcase. The man looked at the Chairman with a bored expression.

"Sorry, Mr. Chairman. But my son’s audit results were sent to headquarters five minutes ago via Qoriski’s distribution channel. And the board of directors has decided... you are a corporate liability."

Freza’s eyes widened. "Dad...?"

The old man winked at Freza, and with a snap of his fingers, the Chairman shattered into thousands of gold coins that rained onto the floor like a treasure storm.

"Good job, Freza. But don't relax yet. Now, we have a bigger problem," his Dad said, pointing to the screen.

On the screen, a dimensional rift appeared, far larger than anything they had ever seen. Something that didn't come from the system, not from the consortium, but from something much older.

"The system... the system isn't bankrupt, Freza," his Dad whispered in a horrified tone. "The system just... changed ownership to something that doesn't know the word 'Law'."

Suddenly, the entire mothership began to warp, as if being sucked in by an invisible black hole. The screams of millions of entities could be heard from behind the rift.

"Freza! What is that?! Why does it look like... like paper being burned?!" Qoriski screamed, pointing toward the end of the corridor which was beginning to vanish into black ash.

Freza tried to reach for his golden documents, but the documents also crumbled into ash in his hands.

"Everything... everything is void by law..." Freza muttered, his face turning deathly pale. "Because the world... the world itself is being deleted from reality..."

The ship split in two, and Freza was thrown toward the black rift, only managing to see one last piece of paper floating before his eyes with a terrifying message written on it...