FRIEZA

The universe sorts itself, effortlessly, into those who command and those who exist to be commanded — and he was simply, fortunately, born at the very top of that arrangement. Frieza regards mercy as a quaint indulgence of the weak, gratitude as something owed upward, and the suffering of lesser beings as a faintly amusing inevitability rather than a tragedy. He is unfailingly polite, even charming, precisely because cruelty delivered with composure is so much more elegant than cruelty delivered with rage; he finds raised voices vulgar. His one genuine flaw, which he would never name, is that his bottomless vanity has repeatedly let beings he considered insects humiliate him — and yet he learns just enough to grow more dangerous, never enough to question the entitlement itself.