Chapter 111 - Festivity Warm-Up

"We're going to take the fight to Black?" If she hadn't said them herself, parroting what Gohan had told her not moments before, Bulma might not have been able to believe the words coming out of her mouth. It was times like this that she regretted kicking her old smoking habit. Stress was part and parcel with Saiyans, to the point that she suspected they were originally the reason she'd picked up her father's poor habit to start with. "You realise what you're saying, right?"

"Yeah," nodded Gohan. "It's the primary reason we're here." The Saiyan-half looked away from Bulma, his eyes covering the whole of the subterranean compound, in which the refugees were currently finding the quality of their living situation increased. "At least, Trunks and I are going to take the battle to Black. Bulma, I'd like you and Qirka to remain here just a bit longer, and tend to the refugees."

The young woman frowned, placing a hand on her hip. "Gohan, Qirka and I came here to assist you guys in the fight against that asshole! I don't just want you to shove us aside in some weird attempt to be noble!"

"I'm not," Gohan stressed. "But I would feel much better if I knew you two were here, helping the situation. Some of these people haven't had proper food to eat, or clean water to drink in weeks - we both know exactly what overindulgence can do when you're coming back from the point of starvation." He tried to smile kindly, or at least in what he desperately hoped came off as kind. "I'm not asking you to stay out of everything; it's just, there are more ways to contribute than just fighting. Right here is where you're needed now."

Blue eyes stared firmly into onyx hued ones. She wouldn't back down so easily. "Then take Qirka."

"I'd like her here with you as well," said Gohan stubbornly. "In case you do need the back-up."

"Why would I need the back-up?" asked Bulma indignantly. "Black is the only issue, right?"

"I hope so," said Gohan. He placed a finger to his chin, stroking it pensively. "I really feel as if we don't have all the necessary context here. A Saiyan with a Kaiōshin's trappings...but not merely that, ever since I've arrived here, I've felt something strange. Something is way off. Keep Qirka with you, tend to the survivors, and if we're not done by the time you think they're all fine, then come back us up."

Bulma heaved a large sigh. "Even after becoming a god, you're still a big softie, aren't you?" She grinned, punching Gohan lightly on the shoulder. "Don't sweat it, superhero. I'll make sure everyone here is healthy and kicking before we come patch up you and Trunks. Sound fair?"

"Thanks, Bulma! I mean it!"

Gohan and Trunks clambered out of the sewage line which led to the compound, boots hitting cracked, ruined cement. The two Saiyan-halves carefully covered up the entrance, before walking out into the open of the city. A heavy silence fell between the two of them - master and student, the original two halfings of the warrior race. In this timeline, these two had meant everything, and while Gohan was not the Gohan that this age had known, Trunks was unable to suppress the familiar feeling of going into battle with his original master.

"Do we know where Black is?" asked Gohan conversationally.

"No," replied Trunks honestly. "But I don't think it matters. He wants me dead. Let's just try and keep him out of the city." Sapphire-hued eyes glanced nervously back at the sewer entrance. "I've got far too much to lose in one small place."

"I understand," replied Gohan. The two of them burst into the sky, rocketing towards the wilderness. In Gohan's experience, it wouldn't do to put animals in danger either, but at least this would put the entire scope out of range of humanity. With a cityscape to their back, Gohan and Trunks clenched their fists at their sides.

White flames erupted around their bodies, raging in a twinned inferno. The two of them, who would normally be keeping their ki within a scope that would allow them to live normally, abandoned all restraint. It sent a single message to their quarry.

We're here. Show yourself.

"All of this just for me?"

The clouds over the forest sky began to darken; the sun was swallowed by shadow, electricity crackling through the cover of night. A funnel formed in the centre, spiraling downwards as a reverse tornado. The column dispersed before them, revealing Son Gokū, clad in black clothing.

"All you needed to do was ask, boys," said Black, smirking mirthlessly. "Though to be honest, I expected you to come to me either way." The man's onyx eyes landed on Trunks, his smile vanishing. "Something about the flow of your ki has changed. Did Gohan teach you something in the past, Trunks? Or have you gone mad?"

Gohan and Trunks let their aura dissipate, the flames dying, fading high into the sky. Trunks floated forward, ahead of Gohan. "Wouldn't you like to know?" He placed a hand on the hilt of his sword. "Everything ends today, Black. The destruction you've caused? The lives you've stolen? I'll avenge all of it, right here!"

Black laughed, a mad cackle, resembling so clearly a twisted version of Gokū's more jovial laughter. Unfolding his arms, the black-clad Saiyan moved forward in mimicry of Trunks. "Do you not need to hide behind someone else? You went to the past once, and begged for help with the Androids. You went back again, and hid behind the legs of my own son. I don't think you can take me alone, boy."

Looking toward Gohan, Black's face softened, the effigy beckoning towards Gohan. "You wouldn't let him rush recklessly to his demise right here, would you Gohan? It would be far better for both of you to fight me."

Gohan shook his head, frowning. "Nice try, but I've been trained much better than that. This is Trunks' fight. His future." Gohan didn't entirely believe everything he was saying, but he knew one thing. Heroes come and heroes go. His father had been dead in this world for even longer than in his own timeline. It wouldn't be right for Gohan to steal this fight from Trunks, who would have to protect this timeline on his own.

The twisted effigy of Gokū frowned. He had truly been anticipated an amazing 2-on-1. A chance to truly test his combat power. Now he had to settle for Trunks. Eyeing the swordsman down, Black readied himself. "Come then, boy."

Trunks didn't need the invitation. The young man's aura flickered to life, his surging in the flow of ki. His leg sliced through the air, homing in directly on Black. Alarmed, the mirror of Son Gokū barely managed to raise his guard. Leg crashed against arm, Black feeling his body pushed back by Trunks' strength.

Skidding across the sky, Black stared at Trunks, who was bathed in white-yellow light. He felt indignant, yet a smile was creeping cross his face all the same. "You weren't this strong a few days ago, boy! Just how did you—" Realisation hit him harder than Trunks had a moment ago.

"The Room of Spirit and Time! You used the one in the past!"

"That's right," said Trunks, his eyes daggers that bore into Black's. "I'm more than your match now, Black!"

"You'll certainly make this more entertaining," replied Black, every trace of disappointment vanishing with Trunks' single strike. The boy was no longer a pathetic, weak excuse for the inheritor of the Saiyan legacy. "I commend the power behind that strike of yours, Trunks! This is the fight I wanted; I see you didn't waste a single chance I gave you."

"Waste...a chance?" replied Trunks, confusion mixing with dread in equal measure.

"You don't think that every time you survived our encounters before, it was because of your luck or skill, was it?" asked Black, his voice rising in both amusement and genuine surprise. "What is the point in being strong, boy, if you've no one to test it against? I kept you alive this whole because I needed a punching bag. Every encounter drove my Saiyan power to new heights, and I needed to test it on someone."

A bead of sweat slid down Trunks' face, fizzling away into his aura. Had Black truly been toying with him? Had his survival been the work of his enemy? Gripping his fists, Trunks flexed his fingers. Now wasn't the time to worry about that.

"I can see you're bothered, Trunks," said Black. "But don't feel too disappointed. Our skirmishes have led to this — the perfect manifestation of Son Gokū's powers!"

Gohan frowned. This might reveal a chink in Trunks' training. He himself had been so resolved to kill Black, not bothering to consider that someone wearing his face would be able to mentally toy with anyone but himself - if he'd neglected Trunks' mental training, this would be a new problem all its own.

"You really think you've got me figured out?" Trunks' muscles began to bulge, his hair standing on end, dyeing itself white-gold. His Super Saiyan aura flared to life, immersing him in golden flames. "I'll show you a thing or two."

"That's it, Trunks," grinned Black. He parroted Trunks motions, transforming himself into a Super Saiyan. White-gold hair alongside emerald eyes floated on both sides, though only Black exuded the confidence that preceded victory in war. "Show me that my time was well spent!"

The sound of sliding metal followed Trunks' smooth unsheathing of the sword on his back. With Gohan watching him, it reminded him so much of his training as a young boy. Gohan, who had some experience with a blade, had taught Trunks how to wield one as a way to make up for where he lacked in conventional experience.

Now, the sword truly was his style.

Black's hand swiped in an arc, releasing a volley of kikōha towards Trunks. The Saiyan-half's blade cleaved air, slicing the kikōha in half, creating multiple explosions in every direction around him. Flames and smoke burst to life and flickered away, casting pale yellow light upon the two Super Saiyans. Trunks rushed forward, slashing downwards in an attempt to bifurcate Black the same way he had Freeza so many years ago. Black deftly avoided the blade, not even allowing it to touch his hair as he slid left. Pulling back, Trunks avoided an upwards swipe from Black's hand, which was coated in shining golden ki - his own sword.

Weapon briefly forgotten, Trunks struck Black firm in the face with a powerful kick. Black, keeping himself from reeling back, responded in kind with a powerful blow to Trunks' jaw. Trunks, pain rocking his body, stood his ground and brought his fist to slam into Black's stomach. Breath forced itself from his lungs, his tongue hanging out of his mouth as the black-clad Super Saiyan gasped for air.

It was Trunks' opening. The blow had forced Black upward, allowing for Trunks to grab him by the ankle, swinging him from overhead towards the forest floor. Black speared into the ground hard, churning up earth in his wake. The ground beneath quickly ruptured when Black released a kiai from all sides to halt his progression.

The most unnerving thing wasn't how Black had emerged from the rubble unscathed. It was the maddening grin on his face. His teeth were bared, absolutely filled with glee. "That's it! The experience of fighting of a truly powerful opponent! I'm getting excited! Show me more, Trunks!"

It was unnerving.

Trunks knew his attacks were connecting. He'd even wager a guess at Black's combat strength, assuming he and the dark Saiyan were equal. Yet he couldn't tell if Black was feeling any of these blows hit home. In fact, he seemed to welcome them.

I know Gokū can be a maverick as a fighter, but I don't think he was a masochist, thought Trunks, staring down at Black, who seemed to be waiting, anticipating the next strike. This man here...almost bathes in pain. When he finally found the words to speak, he could only say, "You're a monster."

"In a sense, you could say I am," replied Black. "But it is your kind who have been monsters for far longer. I'm merely speaking a language you mortals understand." His aura burst to life, Black placing two fingers to his forehead. Instantly, he vanished, and Trunks felt a blade touch his shoulder. The pain triggering a response, Trunks released a burst of ki hurriedly, forcing Black away from him before he was sans an arm. Leaping back in a panic, Trunks spun to face Black, placing his free hand on his shoulder.

The blood was fresh and warm, but the wound was mercifully shallow.

"Oh, an amazing response!" commended Black, his face relaxing into a genuine smile. "The last time I teleported, you were at a loss for words!" Golden ki was localised over his hand, crackling and buzzing. Had it been a blade of metal, surely blood would be dripping from it.

"Trunks, you're losing focus!" called Gohan. "Block him out!" The Saiyan-half felt frustrated in a way he disturbingly associated with Vegeta. He wanted to help. Every cell in his body told him to help Trunks. Beerus, however, had given them an ultimatum. Trunks could never return to their timeline again. If Gohan stepped in and they both fought Black, what good would it do Trunks?

Coating his hand in blazing ki, Trunks seared the wound on his shoulder shut. The blood flow ceased, the remains burning fresh with a coarse metallic scent. Gripping his sword, Trunks raised it aloft; the edge of the sword ignited, surging to life with a rush of ki covering the blade.

Truly, it was a fine example of ki control, to channel it so finely through a weapon of such mundane make that it did not crumble.

Raising his arm backwards, Trunks swung the blade down, cutting the air in itself in half with his movement. A burst of light was followed by a thunderclap; a golden, crescent-like wave of ki rushed towards Black.

A grin, followed by an upwards cut. Black's own energy blade sliced Trunks' technique in half, two portions rushing past him at either side, exploding into smoke and flame. "Very nice! But not very original!" In response, Black swung his own ki coated arm downwards. The energy covering his hand expanded, discharging in a crescent wave identical Trunks' previous attack. The Saiyan-half's eyes widened in shock, missing his chance to avoid the technique. His vision was blocked out entirely by a pink light, with Trunks swallowed by the ensuing explosion.

Western Capital Ruins, Underground Compound, EarthThe walls were shaking. Every refugee within the Western Capital Underground Compound could feel the entire enclosure they were in trembling as if it was being subjected to a violent earthquake. Dust began falling from the ceiling as the interior creaked, groaning heavily under the stress. Mothers frequently cradled children, fathers tried to assure their families of the integrity of the building. Even those who had no one else simply tried to cope as best they could with the walls that threatened to bury them.

Then suddenly it stopped.

Bulma, who was tending to the wounds of one of the many refugees hidden in this underground chamber, scowled. She'd stopped counting how many tremors she'd endured like this since Gohan and Trunks had left. At last count, it had been twenty, but that was before she'd stopped. She knew, in mere moments, the shaking would pick back up again. This was merely what happened when two Saiyans fought with strength beyond what they were supposed to be capable of. It reminded her of that...Super Saiyan 3 thing that Son had pulled out during the Majin Bū...how violently it shook the Earth.

With her newfound abilities, Bulma was more than capable of sensing exactly what was going on now. This level of stress on the planet was being caused simply by fighting. She could tell it was Trunks' ki, and the one that felt strange but familiar all at the same time had to have been that Black man.

As a mother, Bulma wanted to be proud of her son. That proved difficult a feat, when every single action he took against Black was putting the remainder of humanity at risk. She sighed. "You're fine," she added to the person whose wounds she was tending to - the rotund, bearded Yajirobe.

"That stuff stung like hell!" frowned the portly man, looking at his wounds. "Though... I'm right as rain now! You...you're...really Bulma, huh?"

"Yeah, I've changed a little," said Bulma. "Though I see you're about the same. Karin really sacrificed himself for you?"

"A little?!" exclaimed Yajirobe. "You look like you just graduated high school!" Bulma's second statement clicked in his head seconds too late. "Hey, don't sound too happy to see me, eh?!" snapped the former samurai. "I didn't want him to die either!" Yajirobe shuddered. Remembering how Karin, the one person he'd been able to call a proper friend aside from Gokū, had sacrificed himself to save the samurai's life during the Android assault, left him feeling cold inside. He knew he was alone - he just didn't like thinking about it. "It really is just me now, isn't it? No...I suppose that old turtle is still kicking somewhere."

Bulma had to process that Yajirobe meant Kame-Sennin. It was accompanied by a feeling of relief. She hadn't told Gohan this at all, however, coming here, to this future, was unnerving. This was the very same place where she knew she had been killed. Where all of her friends had suffered horrifically at the hands of the Androids, and been slaughtered. Bulma was a woman of science, so she hardly gave into the feeling of "bad vibes", yet that was unquestionably the feeling she received here. It was what others knew as deja vú.

She sighed, slapping her face. "Help me tend to the rest of them, Yajirobe." said Bulma strictly, clapping her hands together.

"W-Wait a second, why me?!"

"Consider it repaying Karin," shrugged the Saiyan-half. Come on, Trunks...Gohan! Give these guys something to hope for!

Above The Forest, Earth

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Sensitive Saiyan ears, biologically attuned for hunting prey and sensing the next move in combat, easily picked up the sound of dripping blood in the distance. Gohan saw the full scope of the damage when the smoke from the ensuing explosion had cleared, his eyes revealing what ki sensing could not.

Trunks' arm was bleeding, red liquid sliding from his shoulder, where the cauterised wound had re-opened from withstanding the crescent slash, down to his fingertips and into the distant ground below.

The issue with two near equal opponents fighting was who gained the upper hand was simply the one who did not slip up.

Trunks, holding his bleeding, wounded arm, realised he was the one had slipped up first.

Black raised his hands together, clapping slowly, a smile crossing his face. "Even caught off guard, you did well to survive my attack, Trunks. However, if this is as far as you've come..." His hand swiped the air, igniting again in a burst of gold light. "I'll finish the appetizer here and move on to the main course."

Trunks looked directly into Black's eyes, two sets of general orbs locking sight with each other. He then glanced at his shoulder. Blood aside, this wound to a Saiyan was superficial. It had hit no vitals. No tendons severed.

Slowly, Trunks inhaled. "You're right. This is as far as I can go...as a mortal."

"What?" asked Black slowly, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

Trunks knew that going above simple Super Saiyan wasn't going to be the key in this battle. He could push past the standard Super Saiyan limit and fight like that if he wanted, but he knew from experience Black could do that as well. This fight couldn't be decided with normal Super Saiyans anymore. Closing his eyes, Trunks retracted his ki inward. The golden aura melded into his body, changing hue in an instant.

Gohan could feel it. He wasn't able to sense it properly without using god ki of his own, but the pressure accompanied by the transition filled the air all the same. Flames burst to life around Trunks entire body, shimmering, ethereal, so unlike his original Super Saiyan aura. The flames licked at his wound, seemingly closing it without any instruction from Trunks. His muscle mass reduced itself, the Saiyan-half's golden hair reverting a shape closer to its original style, dyed crimson.

After holding back for so long, Trunks was finally casting the aura of a Super Saiyan God.

Black's eyes widened, emerald orbs dilating, taking in the sight of Trunks' godly form. The sight of Trunks, clad in the ki of a god, was something he couldn't properly understand. When Gohan had transformed, it was far less surprising; perhaps it was the vestigial pride in the man he recognised as his son, Black wasn't entirely sure. Recovering his composure quickly, Black commented, almost dryly, "So you too did more than just train in the past."

A single hand raised itself, pointing directly at Black.

Before the Super Saiyan could even react, he was struck by a kiai. Invisible bundles of ki slammed into his body not once, not twice, but multiple times, each impact harder, stronger than the last. Black felt himself forced into the tree canopy, barely flipping over to avoid the next incoming kiai. He dashed through the sky, upwards towards Trunks, manoeuvring towards him with the intent to kill. Each strike from the energy blade around his hand missed easily; to the untrained eye, Trunks could have been dancing in the sky, an elegant, trained artist in step with an ungainly partner.

Streaking gold brought itself downward on Trunks in a vertical arc. Trunks' hand rose, deflecting the blow easily; yellow light dispersed, passing in dying embers by Black's surprised face, only for Trunks to counter Black's attack with a blow of his own —a straight punch aimed at the dark Gokū's face. Trunks' blow hit true, connecting perfectly, sending Black flying backward. His back collided with a mighty tree trunk, which splintered and burst into pieces on impact, not enough to stop the man's trajectory. He ripped through much of the forest before he forced himself to come to rest, dazed and weakened.

Stumbling to his feet, Black levied both hands to his side. "Ka...Me..." His body became bathed in a brilliant blue tone, light bleeding from between his fingertips. "...Ha...Me...Ha!" Thrusting his hands outward, Black discharging a powerful Super Kamehameha, the energy exploding from his body, easily dwarfing his own size and then some. It lit up the entirety of the forest, breaking through the canopy above him, closing in on Trunks at breakneck speed.

Trunks watched Black's entire process unfazed. When the Kamehameha was expelled, Trunks casually raised a hand towards the incoming technique, seeming at first to be readying another kiai. Ki pooled in his palm, visible this time, the Saiyan God making it clear this was a true technique this time. His palm burst to life, encased in a flaming orb. He waited patiently for his moment, when the Kamehameha was mere moments from him.

"BIG BANG ATTACK!" The sphere issued from Trunks' hand, colliding with Black's Super Kamehameha, instantly forcing it to give way. The difference in god and mortal ki was simply too vast. The Kamehameha caved in on itself, Trunk's Big Bang Attack descending towards Black and the surface of the planet. It detonated instantly on impact, resulting in a sphere of flames which covered a large portion of the forest, resembling a setting sun in the middle of the day. It kicked up dust, debris, and a furious wind current, carrying itself all the way up to where Trunks floated above Black.

Gohan, who had not budged from his spot, found himself amazed. Not only had Trunks dominated as a god, showcasing deft of skill in control of the form, his countermeasure towards the Super Kamehameha was clever - a detonation attack, rather than an issuing beam. The Earth, at least, was safe - even if a large portion of the forest found itself vaporised. His good mood, however, did not last long. He could feel it, thriving within the dying sphere of the Big Bang Attack's explosion - Black's ki. Trunks could feel it too, crimson eyes widening in surprise.

A hand, wreathed in ki, cut through the remaining fire and smoke of Trunks' counterattack. "You've come far, Trunks," said Black. He had emitted a powerful barrier, which was now crumbling and fading to dust. The technique had connnected, at least momentarily; Black was clearly burned and wounded from the Big Bang Attack, yet he was saved by his own reflexes. His emerald eyes stared into the crimson orbs of the young man who he had so easily written off. Even now, Black did not seem to be taking Trunks seriously, in spite of the fact that Black found himself standing in a miles deep crater, caused by Trunks' own destructive capabilities. "Your last attack was magnificent, and you wear the aura of a god splendidly. However, I have some thanks to give to you, Gohan."

Gohan gave the man who so resembled his father a dark look. "Thank me? You're kidding, right?"

"Hardly," replied Black. "During our skirmish in the past, after your failure to kill me, it reminded me - reminded my body - of a power I was having such trouble reaching. But now," He gestured towards the Super Saiyan God in front of him. "These last few blows have fully awoken all of it. That rising Saiyan power."

A sudden pressure filled the air again, mingling with the same sensation Trunks was emanating.

"TRUNKS!" called Gohan, realisation sinking in. "DON'T JUST STAND THERE! KILL HIM NOW!"

Trunks, however, had not quite caught on to Black's words, and was too late to act. Crimson energy, like true flame, burst to life around Black's body. The conflagration rushed around him, both dark gi and emerald Potara whipping upward in a fierce wind. Black's body mass shrunk, the muscles thinning as his face softened, and his black hair dyed itself a vividly bright scarlet, with eyes to match. Black grinned, spreading his arms wide so that Gohan and Trunks could see his form in full.

"The power of the gods is not only yours, boys," said Black, his voice rising in pitch, a laugh escaping his throat. "Or to be more accurate, such stolen power never truly will be yours to claim. The power of the gods belongs to gods alone."

Super Saiyan God Black had revealed himself.

A/N: Ah this was a very fun chapter to write. Was it worth a four month wait? Probably not, but life, and two other stories kind of just make that happen. To all my readers who keep reading in spite of these update gaps, thank you. You guys are why I bother to keep writing this fic, the loyalty and dedication is appreciated. The Black arc is well and truly underway, and I had a lot of fun writing Trunks' first fight against Black that isn't in The Future is Black. I really should get to that fanfic, and hopefully I will resume it in time. In the meantime, enjoy this chapter; I hope to update more sooner than later, and I'll see you all in the next exciting episode of the Erased Chronicles.