.
.
.
Final
.
.
.
Through the smoke and the gloom, she glimpsed those two caustic and dim beacons, indubitable stigma of the virulent and crooked soul that dwelt within the being with the form of the most innocuous individual the woman had ever known.
She stared at him for an incredibly ephemeral time lapse. Tears began to emerge from her: large and numerous, a reflection of a mixture of afflictions and tribulations.
"It's not him... it's not him..." she repeated herself, while the dark demon cut her breath with his strong grip around her neck.
And after the mixture of despair and grief, finally came the conclusion:
"Of course you're not Goku," she finally reasoned without any fear and with absolutely certainty.
The tears stopped. A faint, sad smile made an appearance. Now, the only thing she regretted was...
"MOM!" the warrior of the future shouted with a heart-rending impotence.
"I'm sorry, Trunks..." it was the last thought invaded herself before disintegrating at Black's hands.
