Clouds dispersing, I could see that the sky had just begun to lighten in the distance, but it was only a passing notice, my vision tunnelling as I had my gaze fixed on my enemy.
The bleeding from my wound had now slowed a great deal, and even though my chest still hurt every time I inhaled, it had become far more manageable thanks to the effects of my transformation. Whatever had happened to me, the advantages were far greater than what being an ordinary Super Saiyan offered. I could feel the aura I generated and the bolts of electricity crackling within it and all around me.
Broly had noticed it too. While there were no traces of fear on him, he definitely looked surprised, or perhaps confused, at my unexpected change.
"Hmm? Where have you suddenly gotten energy?" he wondered out loud.
Though even I didn't understand what had happened, there was something I knew for certain: that I was going to kill him for what he'd done, and that I had the power to achieve such a vengeance. I refused to let him hurt anyone else.
However, I couldn't take my time to finish this. Even with the surge of ki somewhat negating the severity of my injuries, I was still losing blood and would continue to do so. Being in the middle of combat wasn't going to help matters.
I decided to strike first, testing my new speed.
I punched him in the jaw and this time, it was enough to knock him back. When he didn't react quickly enough, I landed a few more hits before kneeing him in the sternum and I was rewarded with his pained expression.
I'd been making sure to favour kicks or left hand punches over my right, due to the fact that my open wound was near my right shoulder. However, it didn't seem like that was going to be so great a disadvantage – Broly was moving a lot slower than before, or more truthfully, I was just moving that much faster.
Testing even further how quickly I could move, I gave him an uppercut so he went into the air; then, I reappeared behind him and kicked him near the top of his spine.
Broly twisted in place to get at me, missing his first punch but hitting me with the second. It didn't matter – I hardly reacted when the level of strength he was using could no longer cause me the same damage as before.
Letting him swing wildly at me for a time as I dodged, I darted into place to grab him by the leg.
With my grip firm, I began spinning around to build up momentum, then releasing to toss him away towards the earth, hitting it with a loud crack.
Not wasting a moment, I dove down to dropkick him in the chest, using his big size against him; he was a large target.
I had one knee pressed into his solar plexus and my other foot against the ground, steadying me as I began striking away, hitting him in the face with my fists over and over again.
I was enjoying feeling something solid break and split underneath my knuckles. My Saiyan blood had taken over me, limiting my ability to rationalize. I wasn't thinking about where my new power had come from, only how best I could use it to satisfy my anger and desire to dominate the battlefield.
Apparently having had enough, Broly managed to get ahold of me and flip us over, slamming me into the ground instead, though the terrain sustained much more damage than I did.
Not letting him get another attack in, I kicked him off me with both legs, giving me enough room to get up and continue my assault.
Every action I was taking caused the hurt permeating my chest area to seize up, but it only served to increase my desire to fight.
All this was pissing Broly off immensely, paired with the fact that he was now struggling to hurt me. I imagined that someone of his strength hadn't ever had that problem before.
He roared again, releasing more waves of energy in response to his own madness and emotion. Pebbles and other miscellaneous pieces of landscape hovered around us, much of it destroyed from the sheer power of his aura. My own ki was not exactly being any kinder to the terrain, as I currently had little to no control over myself. In fact, the electrical charge I was generating was undoubtedly wreaking havoc on my body – I was literally beginning to burn myself up.
I would make sure he burned with me.
Throwing my hands out in front of me, I began to summon a ball of energy, pouring mass amounts of ki into it but compressing it into a small space.
When Broly charged at me, I let it go, launching it off and watching it spear through his chest and out the other side. There was a flash of light and an explosion as it eventually hit something else a ways off.
Broly stumbled momentarily, but then continued towards me despite his wound. I could see that I'd blown a hole right through his torso, but like his many other inflicted lesions, he was capable of ignoring them unless (or until the moment) they were one hundred percent fatal.
I leaped back to give myself more ground between us, taking to the air at the same time.
Keeping to my retreating path, I started to gather energy between my hands again, lightning sparking around me in mass amounts as I put even more strength into this attack than the previous one, this time having no qualms about the size as it grew and grew. Eventually, it was large enough to consume the sight of everything in front of me, but there was only one thing in that direction worth seeing and he was the target.
Electricity winding around my arms, I hovered there in wait for just the right second. I could barely make out my opponent through the blinding light.
I unleashed the massive beam, watching it span out in an uncontrolled arc of energy that destroyed all in its wake. It ate up the airborne dust and robbed my vision of the approaching dawn sky, going far enough to reach the mountaintops in the distance and even crumbling a section of one, the planet trembling from the force of the blast.
When the flash cleared, I could see that Broly was still there – but he now emitted a pulsing green glow. He was decorated with streams of blood, and I could sense that his energy had become highly unstable. His heavily battered body couldn't contain his own power anymore.
"You... You think you'll ever be enough to kill me?" he hissed. "I am the legend reborn! I am the strongest Saiyan to ever live!"
"And you'll die at the hands of a mere half-breed!" I growled in a voice I barely recognized.
With one last cry I darted forward and struck Broly in the stomach, as hard as I could.
He began to crack, lines threading through him like he was made of glass. More green light emanated from within the fissures; I could sense the ki pressure building within.
I flew back and crossed my wrists up in front of my face to block the impending release of energy.
Then, in a giant flash, he exploded, the heat singing my forearms though I stayed in place, and for a moment everything was bathed in the neon light.
When it receded, there was nothing left of him, only the wide expanse of the desert and the reddening sky in front of me.
A thin, bright spark emerging on the horizon's edge caught my eye: the sun was rising.
I hovered there in the air for a bit, hearing only the cool breeze and my heartbeat beginning to slow.
And then, just like that, the link to my new power withered and I felt myself revert to my natural form, my hair losing its glow and drifting down with the pull of gravity. My muscle mass reduced slightly as well, reverting back to normal as I descended to the earth.
As soon as I touched down I found it hard to stand, realizing how lightheaded I felt. My injuries had gone back to their previous seriousness, thanks to the now absent energy that had been flowing through me. I didn't think any of my vital organs were damaged but I'd definitely lost more blood than I'd thought.
I felt totally empty and exhausted. My body unconsciously demanding respite, I fell to my knees, wrapping an arm around my broken ribs again. The pain had returned tenfold, protesting against all the continuous fighting I'd done in spite of it.
Even though my battered clothes were a dark colour, when I looked down I could see how stained with blood my right side was. The wound itself felt so hot it was almost numb, and it flared up every time I so much as flinched my right arm or shoulder. My instinct was to press my hand against it to lessen the flow, but I was wary of the agony doing so would incur – it already felt like there was a stick of hot iron impaled through it. The actual blade hadn't pierced all the way through me, but the cut was wide enough to be troubling.
My memories came flooding back, then. I wasn't the only one who'd been hurt.
"Come on, Trunks," I uttered to myself. I had to get up, I had to.
I staggered to my feet, making one slow step after another in the direction of the closest person I could sense: Gohan.
Because I was so far from the city, I wasn't going to bet on the unlikelihood of some random Saiyan leaving the metropolis (which was probably in chaos still from the blackout and collateral damage from Broly) and finding me out here. Scouters were not as adept at sensing energy as someone trained to do it themselves – we were all hurt and our ki signatures could be too low now to be detected via technology. Not only that, but in our injured states, waiting was a dangerous game.
If that was ruled out, I had two options: one, I could burn my wound shut, but there was a good chance I could pass out from the pain. Two, I could keep going with it open and hope I didn't lose consciousness from blood loss.
Neither looked good at the pace I was moving.
Invoking what little energy I hadn't exhausted, I took to flight again, which did give me more in the way of speed. Yet if I exerted too much of the small pool I had left, I would run into another kind of problem.
Even when I did find the others, I wasn't big enough to carry them all at once, especially in our respective conditions. But I was more worried for Goten and Mom. Their energies were low enough that I couldn't detect them; Gohan was my only marker for an area near their location (unless he'd managed to get up and move, which I doubted).
Eventually, I had to resume walking instead of flying. I was starting to feel cold even though the sun was coming up. Dust was starting to whip around, but through it I could see the light glinting off the distant towers of the city – the ones that were left intact, anyway.
I lost my footing on the incline I was walking on, falling down to slide through the sand. It wasn't a proper dune so much as a slope, so the harder rocks ground against my skin until I came to a stop.
The sun was moving in and out of focus. My violet-white hair was highlighted with red, so was the sand – or perhaps that was my actual blood colouring the earth an even deeper shade than it already was.
Fuck it. I was going to pass out anyway, but if I sealed the wound at least I'd lower my chances of dying while unconscious.
Rolling over onto my back, painful enough in itself, I activated a small amount of ki in the palm of my left hand. My shirt was already beat up, but I made sure to tear away what did remain around that area. Then quickly, before I could think about it, I pressed my hand to the cut.
There was a split second of the blackness at the edges of my vision spiking up to consume my awareness, and then I realized I'd successfully cauterized the injury, rudimentary as the solution had been.
I wanted to get up, to get to my family. Goten, Mom, Gohan, they couldn't last on their own. I had no idea what had happened to my father, except that he'd left after I told him I hated him. The city was out of power and in bad shape; though the citizens there were probably better off than us they'd still need help.
In one final effort as I lay there, I used what little telepathic skill I possessed to reach out.
Father. Someone, anyone. Please, I can't save them. We're dying...
The crimson sky above me went dark, fading along with all the rest of my senses.
A muffled voice. Someone's hand grazing my neck – checking for a pulse?
"No, no, not like this. Please," the male voice said.
I felt a small current of energy trickle into me. The person was giving me some of theirs.
"I know you're stronger than this, Trunks. You have to wake up," the person said. He was holding me up just a little, one arm underneath my head. Taking a brief moment to swipe my hair out of my face.
A bit of sensation was returning to my arms and legs, courtesy of the extra energy I'd been donated. I could smell sand and blood and salt – the last one a generic scent both humans and Saiyans gave off, though it could still be used to identify individuals. This one was familiar.
Mustering my willpower, I opened my eyes to a slit. Judging by the colour of the sky, which was the first thing I saw, I hadn't been laying here unconscious for very long.
The second thing I saw was Father.
If I was capable of feeling anything at all during that moment, it might have been relief.
He was smudged with dirt, and there was dried blood running down all one side of his face, probably from some head injury. But his eyes, alive with emotion, betrayed any worry I might have that he'd sustained any fatal harm.
I tried to say something to him, but my body refused to respond.
"What happened? Is Broly dead? Where is your mother?" Father asked. When I didn't answer, he tried to get me to sit up more, causing me to make a quietly pained sound when he put pressure on my ribcage.
"Shit. Look at you. Were you trying to burn yourself up?" he said.
That's what it had felt like. I was numb now.
"Trunks. I need you to stay awake for me."
I was trying to do that, I really was. But I was fighting not to fade out again. My eyes felt heavy, so I closed them, conserving myself to just doing what Father had said and stay awake.
I felt him pull me up all the way then, intending to lift me as he snaked his arm around my torso to support my weight. Unfortunately, his grip constricted rather suddenly around my broken ribs again and I definitely made a noise at that point.
In response, he shifted his hold up so it was right under my arms, hooking around and against my upper back and not the centre of my torso. He used his other arm to lift my legs and then he was carrying me.
I wanted to tell him that the others needed more immediate help than I did, but stringing together something coherent seemed a monumental task at the moment. I didn't even know where he was taking me.
After a much shorter distance than I'd anticipated, I felt us stop. Then I heard a quiet mechanical sort of sound, and we were moving again except we'd apparently just crossed the threshold of a building of some sort.
Once we were inside, a soft hum replaced the desert wind. A few moments later, Father set me down gently on the floor, leaning me up against something. Then he darted back out, leaving me there to presumably go find everyone else.
For several minutes I just sat there, concentrating on taking deep breaths. Even if it hurt, I didn't want my lungs to collapse by inhaling too shallowly for a long period of time.
When Father returned, I managed to open my eyes again. He had Gohan with him.
Father set the other half-blood down across from me and then left again. Gohan looked to be in a similar state as I was – clinging to consciousness. However, he seemed less coherent than I did. He was softly muttering things to himself that I couldn't make out, and his eyes were closed.
The next time Father came back, he was carrying two people: Mom and Goten. Father kept Mom in his arms, but set the two brothers together.
When he realized the other was there, Gohan used his remaining arm to loosely grasp his younger sibling. Goten wasn't moving at all.
I was expecting him to open his eyes at any moment, give me some quip about how we couldn't handle being five minutes without him. But he didn't. I wanted to call out to him though I knew he wasn't going to answer me. If I would've been strong enough to move, I might have dragged myself over to them both. But as it was, I could only watch the pair, the elder supporting the weight of the younger as best he could.
"Computer! Initiate take-off," I heard Father say. It sounded distant, though he had only gone a little ways farther into what was apparently a ship and not a building.
I hardly felt the vibrations signalling our departure. My focus was starting to dwindle again.
While I could, I looked over at my father and mother.
Father was cradling her upper body close, gently brushing her hair and stroking her face. I think he was talking to her, but I couldn't be sure. His lips were moving, but I couldn't hear what he was saying. The dead silence in my ears and the thunder of my heart were too loud. She can't hear you either, I wanted to say, but I was numb. I don't think Father cared, in any case – he must've known the truth, as he could sense energy better than I did.
My sense of time must have been off, because when I finally managed to gather enough strength to look over again, Father was knelt next to her in silence. He was partly coiled in on himself, like a half attempt at a huddle, and his head rested in his hands. His position shielded his face from me.
My body was so, so heavy. I tried to say something, but no sound was making it past my throat.
Gods, my chest felt like it was being crushed. It wasn't just the burning pain now, there was a deep-set ache slowly spreading through my heart and stomach. I wondered if I was dying.
I gave up trying to stay conscious. The last thing I knew was that Father had moved me somewhere else, placed me on something flat and cool against my back.