Chapter 7: Trunks's Limits

Without the comfort and security of his father, Picollo, or even the excitable newcomer Raditz, Trunks felt lost and hopeless when confronted with this great adversary. Their base powers matched rather evenly, but that didn't help sway the young man's anxiety. Someone had always been close by during his fights ready to jump in at any given moment, but this time he was on his own. He cursed himself privately for being so hesitant, this wasn't what he should've been like; as a child he'd been young and fearless to a fault, but with his age came the bitter realisation of his own mortality, and it made him scared to act.

Primus was a small man, standing no taller than Krillin was, wearing torn, faded trousers and beaten sandals. His face was a shadowed, toothy sneer accompanied by a gross hunchback. One eye was opened wide with excitement, the other, lazy and tiresome.

After hearing all that Picollo had to say through the digital screens the Vices had generously offered, Trunks regained a little optimism.

"So you're the weakest, huh?" he taunted, causing an irritable look to cross his foe's deformed features. He took it as a yes, as indicated by his reaction as well as the broad chest tattoo pointing to one o'clock - the first hour, the weakest member. Come on Trunks, he nagged to himself, snap out of it. He's the runt of the group, surely you can beat this guy? But then again, so are you.

The two enemies rushed each other again, high kick met with right straight and both became suspended in midair. Trunks swerved out of the lock and came up with his over foot to make a swift kick to Primus's neck. He spat a mouthful of saliva from the blow as Trunks pursued him midflight. Trunks attacked with a ready fist, and the Vicis disappeared.

"Behind you!" Primus appeared to his right and landed Trunks with a powerful three punch combination that left him dazed, whereupon he blasted a strong ki attack to his chest. Trunks's overcoat was tattered and torn into smoking rags; he threw it off without a second thought, leaving him with just a skin-tight black tank top, exposing his newly developed form. Primus zoomed in once again, homing as a small, hunchbacked missile in what seemed like an attempted headbutt on his behalf, one which Trunks swept sideways to avoid, and slammed a knee into hard into his face. With a zip of untraceable speed both rocketed their way around the hillside, and collided with a high speed exchange. Punches flew like machinegun bullets, and each blocked and dodged in a flurry of blurry movement. Being shorter, Primus aimed mostly to Trunks's torso, which he took note of. He parried low with lightning fast right arm and smashed a controlled left punch into Primus's wide open eye with a satisfying smack!

Primus recoiled, but to Trunks's amazement his head jerked back to full height almost instantly, as he flew up, forehead connecting with Trunks's nose with sickening pain. The man blinked his vision clear, tasting fresh blood roll down from his nose. Even if he was the worst, this guy packed a punch. He flew back towards Trunks like an arrow, but he was ready. In a well practiced move, Trunks withdrew the longsword he'd kept sheathed until now on his back and held it over his head. Primus saw the move, and swerved into a barrel roll to avoid, but not before his left side suffered a deep cut from the man's powerful swing.

The Vicis clutched the wound, and rasped a deep, painful breath. Trunks smiled as the edge of his blade tasted fresh blood, and readied it into a stance for continuation. The cut was damaging, but not enough to cripple or put Primus out of action. He never lost his ugly, bucktoothed smirk that made Trunks want to hurt him even more. Despite himself, Trunks found himself actually enjoying the battle; in the past he'd been too focussed and calculative to savour the moment, but now the feeling mirrored that of his at a young age, carelessly sparring with Goten; the buzz he got from a powerful connection excited him, as it was all part of that saiyan lust that he'd ignored for too long. Vegeta's words however, now echoed in his ears. In training with his father, the Prince had taught him a piece of useful information about the sword he'd taught himself to use. When in defence it was too heavy to lift quickly and block an equal enemy's fast attacks, so one had to remain on the offence constantly if it was to be wielded properly, so that the enemy never got a chance to attack.

Bearing in mind his father's words, Trunks reinitiated his attack. He dashed towards Primus, slashing forwards, taking advantage of his large shoulder muscles. Primus looked back to his foe and dodged with a cool hop backwards, but this didn't stop Trunks. He chased his foe, and as soon as Primus was in range Trunks unleashed a barrage of swipes and stabs at his enemy at high speed, slashing seemingly random directions like a madman just escaped from an asylum. Primus ducked, weaved and bent joints in awkward placed to avoid Trunks's onslaught, but even he couldn't evade the attacks completely. He suffered another slash to his leg and a vicious stab glanced across his ribs, but all the while he kept moving until finally, he disappeared from view.

A hard kick slammed into Trunks's back, and before he could retaliate he'd been dragged by his combed mop of lavender hair and hurled face first into a nearby hill. Swallowing soot and dried mud, Trunks skidded across the floor, coming face to face with one the plasma screens. Picollo seemed to be on top, triumphing against an enemy as evil as he once was. Then, a sudden revelation struck the young man. He'd been so dependant on these authority figures he recently clung to; Picollo, Vegeta, Raditz. But were these the ideal role models? Each had their malicious streaks from before he was born, even, no, especially, his own father. While it troubled him to think of his father in such ways, it made the Trunks realise that, while they were great friends and allies, he didn't need them to be around in his fight, they weren't perfect; nowhere near the summit of moral high ground he'd idolised them to be. Like them, he could fight his battles on his own, regardless of anyone's approval.

Trunks rose and took stance with his sword, and with a hum of rising ki he ascended into the first level of Super Saiyan, and kept on going. Super Saiyan 2 came into being, and he sank comfortably into his maximum power. He didn't need anyone around for now; this was his battle, and it'd end the way he wanted it to. Primus stopped, realising that Trunks's ki had elevated. He stopped, and with surreal hypnotism the dials on his tattoo clock began to spin and whirl as he powered up. The power-up was identical to Secundus's, and after watching this in the fight between he and Picollo, Trunks assumed that the concentration for all the Vices was the same process. He had to fight to stop himself becoming fixated in the shifting ink, and kept his eyes firmly locked onto those of his opponent, contorted into a fiery gleam of anger and eccentric madness.

He rushed Trunks, slamming a great fist into his unguarded chest, and Trunks was taken back almost immediately by how much the man had powered up. He hopped back in recovery, completely focussed, but Primus had already disappeared. A kick came out of nowhere, and Trunks set off into the sky to avoid it, just. One more fraction of a second and he'd have been on the receiving end of that kick. Not wasting any time, Trunks launched a flurry of small ki bombs out of the sky with his free hand to rain down on his opponent, who'd swiftly gotten back to his feet and was now flying straight towards Trunks, phasing between his shots like they were at a snail's pace to him. Primus circled into a wild, spinning kick, and Trunks timed a knee. It connected, but so did Primus's move, which battered down hard on Trunks's forearm, knocking the sword out of his hand.

As the two separated, Primus rubbed at his aching shoulder that the man had drove his knee into, and Trunks had a feeling that the move was deliberate; he could fight Trunks easier with fists, and knew that if he was to disarm him, he'd have to take a hit first. Trunks swore to himself, cursing his foolishness as his sword clattered to the ground. He thought of dashing after it, but Primus's watchful gaze told him that the second he made for it the hunchbacked Vicis would be right behind him.

'Don't get distracted! It is important for you to never lose sight of your goal during a battle!' Vegeta's wise words ran clear in his mind, and Trunks refocused on his enemy. His father's teachings and constant critiques were now permanently embedded into his fighting style; every time he felt himself slipping up he'd quickly correct himself. Primus extended his hands, holding his fingers to points like guns, and Trunks eyed the man with apprehension. He clicked his fingers, and two golden green beams shot from his two index fingers at a blistering speed. Trunks instinctively twisted his body to avoid the first, but it didn't stop the second slamming into his ribs, the force sending him spinning off balance where Primus caught him and ran a fist into his face.

Trunks sailed, and landed hard on the grass below, his body making a small crater in the dirt. Primus launched a ki beam that narrowly missed Trunks as he rolled out of the way for a quick recovery. He breathed deeply as the Vicis descended slowly, forebodingly towards him, and for the first time in a while he felt true fear. Primus had increased so much in strength and speed that he was now almost impossible for him to keep up with. 'Never be afraid!' Vegeta wailed in his mind, 'It'll only worsen your chances!' The man took his father's words on board and tried desperately to push all the anxiety to one side, but as one would expect, it was easier said than done. Primus landed, and without hesitation Trunks rushed him, wildly, angrily and without fear, though clumsily too. Primus slid graciously to his left and held out a forearm that Trunks painfully ran into, before receiving another powerful kick to the chest, sending him into another small hill.

Trunks's vision blurred and all senses dulled dramatically. His arms, legs, his whole body numb except for his shattered ribs on his lower right hand side that seethed with pain. His face was bruised, bleeding profusely, and he tasted blood on his tongue. Lazily, he rolled over, finding himself face to face with one of the battle screens provided. Picollo's Masenko wave completely devoured Secundus; at least someone was having a better time of it than he was. He wished to see Vegeta's battle, and even Raditz's, but his condition made him unable to stand. 'Never look away from your opponent!' Vegeta's comments haunted him, as suddenly Primus drove a powerful fist into Trunks's stomach; he launched forwards and coughed up blood, his eyes wide with pain as he felt Primus's fist threatening to tear a hole into him.

Just when he'd done it; just when Trunks had come to a point where fighting had begun to feel natural again, he'd fallen almost instantly. He knew that if he ever met his father in the afterlife he'd be disappointed. Primus stepped over Trunks and began throwing harsh punches at his face, each one turning his head to one side to welcome the next. Trunks accepted the pain, and offered little resistance other than feebly raising his arms in an attempt to stop him. The world span and his vision became cloudier with each hit, he glimpsed Picollo's screen every few seconds as the smoke from his beam began to rise. 'Do as I instruct and I promise you will reach the third level of Super Saiyan.' Oh yeah, Trunks thought, sure I will, right after I'm finished being beaten to a pulp I'm sure we can resume training. And he'd been close too; the second level was under his complete mastery, so it made sense that the third was close by, within his grasp, he just hadn't tapped into it yet.

Trunks caught sight of the viewscreen once again, as a blue flash and a ki attack sharp as glass hit Picollo, and severed his head right from his body.

"Picollo!!!" Trunks managed to cry out.

'When you fight, keep your goal clear in sight. Remember why you fight, and who you're fighting for, then you'll be able to make the most of your potential.'

Trunks thought of his father, of his mother, of his friends, all the people who he'd fought alongside during the years, and especially Picollo, who'd just had his own life unfairly taken from him for the third time. All of them had always put nothing less than their absolute faith in him, and he was about to meet them with disappointment with the ending of his own life unless he pull something out of the hat.

Primus laughed a sickening chuckle as he continued to pound on Trunks, he was a psychotic man no different to the rest of the villains the Z-Fighters had faced over the years, and being the weakest of his own group, he felt proud that he'd beaten such a warrior of Trunks's level, right up until Trunks's hand suddenly flew up and grabbed his incoming fist. Primus had been too caught up to realise that in fact Trunks's power level had been rising by the second, his aura burned with a bright golden flame and his eyes were rolled back into their sockets, white with fury. Unfazed, Primus threw his other fist, but it was loosely batted away. He pulled and pulled on his hand to try and free it from Trunks's grasp, but it was no use. Trunks got to his feet, keeping hold of Primus's fist, twisting it around to his will to get the short Vicis on his knees, looking right up at him. Trunks was glowing now; his hair began to flow more smoothly and descend down to his knees in an unmistakeable transformation.

"Oh no, no no no!" the Vicis wailed, but his scream was cut off by Trunks landing a harsh kick to his face, one second he'd been beating the saiyan up, and the next he was flying through the air. Trunks disappeared, and in a flash he was right behind Primus, his transformation now complete, eyes bright green in colour, sword back in hand.

"No!!!!"

Trunks poured his lifeforce into the sword's edge and brought it down vertically. The blade penetrated skin, muscle and bone, and he carried it on, slashing down before him to cut Primus right in half. He was dead before he separated fully, but that didn't stop the newly ascended Trunks blowing him to pieces with an exploding ki wave from the palm of his hand. Primus's energy signal evaporated.

Trunks looked at his hands and let out a triumphant chuckle, watching huge amounts of energy surge into his hands like they were nothing as he descended slowly to the hills below. He maintained the transformation, but he could see what everyone meant super saiyan 3 using up a lot of energy. Fortunately for him, he hadn't used it enough to be completely drained, but he was exhausted nonetheless. He dropped to his knees and breathed deeply, trying to feel comfortable in the form; he wanted to sustain it just long enough so that he could meet his father in it, because he feared the moment he powered down he might lose it.

His injuries were still pretty extreme, and Trunks was in no fit state to fight again until he'd had a senzu bean, which was why he was so shocked when out of the sky Secundus suddenly appeared, fresh out of his victory from Picollo. He landed, and began to walk towards Trunks.

"Oh that's just not fair!" Trunks exclaimed, wearily getting to his feet. He didn't know exactly how long he could last against a more powerful foe, but it couldn't have been very long in this tiring new form.

"I must say Trunks, your friend Picollo was quite the handful; gave me quite a hard time."

Trunks only snarled in response.

"But he's gone now, and seeing as we've both just destroyed both our opponents, how about we fill in the blanks for one another?"

Trunks raised his sword threateningly, though the full weight quivered under his weak grip.

Secundus continued in a mocking fashion. "Oh well, that's not a very nice gesture, I thought we could go about our business like adults, Trunks."

A gruff voice suddenly sounded from behind the Vicis, Secundus seemed to have forgotten something. Despite claiming to know everything about his enemies, he'd left out a crucial ability that would inevitably be his downfall.

"Yeah well I got a gesture for you!" came the familiar voice.

Secundus whirled around in horror, coming face to face with Picollo, the man he'd just seen decapitated with his own eyes. Two fingers were pressed to the namek's head, both almost exploding with energy, his attack fully charged.

"SPECIAL BEAM CANNON!!!"

I meant to do this ages ago but I've had loads going on lately, been mega stressed, poor little me. Oh well here it is, of course Picollo isn't dead, he's died enough times in Dragonball and I wouldn't want to put him through it again =D