But in this heart of darkness
Our hope lies lost and torn;
All flame like love is fleeting
When there's no hope anymore
~ Apocalyptica – 'Hope'
Torn
The spring sun was shining down on them, slightly clouded by the large amount of dust in the sky. Around them, explosions were tattering the landscape. For the past half hour, the earth had been rumbling in protest against the fury that was unleashed upon it. The whole geography was changing, and the kilevels that were utilized were upsetting the ecosystem of the planet. But still the battle raged on.
In her arms, Bulma felt her daughter suddenly freeze. Next to her, Piccolo, who had joined them, looked up sharply.
"Marron!" Bra choked.
"Get out of his head, Bra!" commanded Piccolo, his eyes flashing. "Now! You'll drive him insane!"
"I…. I…."
"Bra!" Piccolo roared. "He must not know!"
"He already does," she said with a small voice, looking frightened. Fresh tears were filling her eyes and spilling over her already tear-streaked cheeks. "They all do. I wanted to warn her…and everyone heard me but she…"
Bulma sucked her breath in and pulled her daughter closer against her, absently stroking Bra's aqua-colored hair. Marron. Oh dear. Sweet Marron.
"I have to help Trunks," wept Bra. "I have to. He's all alone and scared and sad."
Tenderly, Bulma stroked the tears of her daughter's face. "Are you alright, sweetie?"
"I have to," the young girl muttered, and closed her eyes to concentrate again.
"Dende is fine," Piccolo informed Bulma gruffly. "Marron saved his life. He'll be with us shortly."
Bulma just closed her eyes and wished she had never come here. Or even better, that this day had never come. The armor was still in its capsule, hidden in the pocket of her jeans. She did not want to resort to let someone wear it: it was simply too dangerous. And the Z-Senshi were so strong, they should not need it. They had trained so hard… so damned hard, that *had* to be worth something. It had to be.
*
Gotenks had used to be a wildcard in battle. Because of the playful and cocky nature of the two demi-Saiya-jins, the fused being they represented was arrogant and unreliable. As the years had progressed, Goten and Trunks had grown both more responsible. Piccolo had counted on that; he did not want a repeat of the battle against Majin Buu this time. During their mental training he had tried to drill them as much as possible, leaving no room for smartass behavior from any of the boys. He had taken special care that they would know the severity of the situation by manipulated them into spending a lot of time around Future Trunks, for example.
And it seemed the strategy had worked. Gotenks seemed a lot more serious and responsible than he had been during the battle with Majin Buu. Of course it helped that Gotenks had known defeat before, by Buu's hands, and didn't think of himself as Dende's gift to humanity anymore. Gotenks fought hard and ferocious, and his only flaw now was his impatience and agitation. But that did not matter.
Piccolo let them beat on the Silver Terror's exterior, while he was exploring the interior. The mindbarrier was different than the other Terror he had fought, Piccolo noticed. Curiously, he tried to find a weak spot and succeeded quickly. The Terror was mightily distracted by a Kamikaze Ghost Attack, which made it almost laughably easy.
It almost seemed as if the Terror offered him an opening. For a heartbeat Piccolo hesitated, but Gotenks was making, despite new injuries and the beginnings of fatigue, good progress with pounding the Terror into a pulp… and the temptation was simply too sweet to resist. Piccolo wanted to know what made the Terror tick, and his grief over Gohan made him perhaps a little rash in his decision to dive in. He just wanted to hurt something. The gentler side of him, the part that used to be Kami, urged him to be careful, but Piccolo did not listen.
He dived right in.
The next moment, he found himself stuck. It was like being held in a headlock – tight and unyielding. He struggled a little, only to wriggle himself even further into the mental hold of the Terror. This was definitely not a good idea. Let me go, damn you, Piccolo snarled.
Around him, all he felt and managed to visualize was a black, bottomless pit of hatred.
Gotenks? He ventured carefully. The hold around his mind began to squeeze. It hurt.
Yes, Piccolo? The joined voices of Goten and Trunks answered eagerly. The mental voice was filled with an immense glee.
He's capturing me. I can't go anywhere – he's holding me hostage. Every thought, every probe his mind made, was a torture. Piccolo longed to sink into oblivion, but he couldn't. There were things to do and battles to fight, first. If only it wouldn't hurt so much.
The Terror is losing its power as if someone pulled the plug, Piccolo, Gotenks informed him. Is that because it's focusing on you?
Probably, Piccolo groaned. Keep hitting him, and he'll let go eventually, I hope.
But at the same time, the hold on his mind began to squeeze even more. A terrible, terrible pain seared through his mind, as it was being pulled inside out. He felt like a balloon that was being squeezed until the point of bursting. Visuals of his mind bursting came to his mind's eye unbidden, and he knew that this was what would happen.
It is using the pain to torture me. That damn Terror turned Gotenks' attack into my headlock. But if it is losing its power… that means that it is dying.
The terrible truth began to dawn upon him. The Terror was dragging him down with itself. It simply refused to die alone. Because Piccolo occupied its mind, it was helpless against the physical attacks. But the physical attacks strengthened the hold the Terror kept on Piccolo's mind at the same time, so it refused to let go. And the pain was getting unbearable. Once more he tried to struggle out, but to no avail.
Oh shit. The damned Terror is really going to go through with this.
What is it? Gotenks asked. Images of armor shattering, of sunlight glittering on shards of silver.
He did not even have to think about his choice. The Guardian inside of him loved Earth and its inhabitants too much not to sacrifice itself. And so he made his mental voice sound controlled and soothing. Nothing. Keep pounding.
But in the depths of his mind, Piccolo screamed in pain.
*
As focused as he fought, Future Trunks was always aware of the life force around him. Especially where it came to the ki of the people he loved. So when Marron's ki suddenly vanished, he knew instantly.
The fact that Bra broadcasted her mental scream to any telepathic mind that would happen to be listening, was of course a dead give away as well.
So what happened to Trunks when he felt Marron die? There was one flash of insight:
Then:
Marron. Her hair in a ponytail, wearing a grey furry coat. She is looking up at him and the Terror is looking down on her. He wants to scream her name, to warn her, but it happens all too fast, before his eyes. Before he can warn her, the beam leaves the silver-clad hand and spirals down to meet its target.
And Marron's chest explodes in a red mist as she is thrown to the ground…
Now:
Marron. Her hair in a ponytail, wearing a darkgrey t-shirt. She is looking up at Young Trunks and Goten who are flying up to meet their opponent and the Terror is looking down on her.
This time, she sees it coming. She has time to react; so she pushes Dende out of the line of fire, saving the Dragonballs and a possible resurrection for Gohan. And herself too, because her chest explodes in that same red mist as she sags through her knees….
The similarity was mind-shattering. Trunks screamed in anguish and let loose a Burning Hell attack greater than he ever had in his life. He was alone for a moment, before Bra joined him.
Marron is dead, she said, her mental voice sounding very young and very sad.
I know, he told her, and his mind cried with her.
*
A chain is as strong as its weakest link, Piccolo had told him during one of their numerous training sessions. So a wall around the mind is as strong as the one weak spot you can manage to find. And there always is one.
This particular wall seemed impenetrable, but Goku was not about to give up yet. He was too distraught to stop – he had to channel all that destructive energy somehow. The last time he had felt like this was when he watched Freeza kill Krillin, and that particular emotion had caused him to transform into Super Saiya-jin. Goku was a lot older now, and rather sure he was near the limit of his almost bottomless well of power. So he was channeling his mind frantically – searching, scanning for weak spots. He had to find something deep down there. He visualized the mindbarrier as a silver wall with a smooth surface. Like a mirror. All he had to do was bang against it and shatter it. It would be so nice if he would see it shatter into a million shards. He would take the shards and cut up that inhuman mind into myriad pieces. He owed it to Gohan and Marron. And Goten, who was up and fighting again – but Goten had been hurt, too. And no one hurt his loved ones like that and got away with it.
You are beginning to sound like a true Saiya-jin in your old day, Kakarot, Vegeta thought at him in a stolen moment. His thoughts sounded amused.
Goku was about to answer him, when his mind suddenly seemed to feel weak spot. As if he could reach through and break things on the inside of the mirror. If he could just…
He pushed, he pulled, he fueled his mind with the love for his family, and suddenly he broke through and found himself in a desolate wasteland of thoughts. He touched around for a moment, while his physical body was aware of cries of frustration and pain emanating from the Terror. The mind had been human once, but it had been totally twisted by an intense hatred that seemed to be present everywhere.
Information and knowledge crashed over Goku's mind. Two races at war, the battle never won, hate, death and competition tainting generation after generation. At last, a device that would end it all. This being had been selected as Angel of Death once – to finally defeat the enemy. But the armor had taken over – the metal was design to reflect ki and mental assaults kept reflecting the angel's own hate back at him time and time again, until he had become a caricature and a nightmare of himself, and had been killing, killing, killing… everyone on Aranza had died by the hands of the Angels, including his loved ones. And after Aranza, they had moved on to other planets. The Angel of Death, as it thought of itself, hated its companions with a vengeance, but was unable kill them – they were too strong, and an almost misplaced feeling of self-preservation was all that kept it going, oddly parallel with the self-hate.
And Goku understood.
This creature was beyond salvation. All Goku could offer him was a quick death, to put him out of its misery.
And in turn, the Silver Terror understood. It could not save itself anymore, it was outnumbered and it had only one chance. It planned to counterattack.
When two minds are truly linked, there is an understanding that goes beyond mental communication. Intentions, dreams and wishes of the person on the other side of the link are felt as clearly as your own. And this is how Goku was on time to prevent a disaster from happening.
Vegeta! he called, a mental warning to cease fire.
Two fingers to his forehead, concentration, Instant Transmission.
There it was. He only had to touch the Terror to teleport them all away to the Otherworld. It was unfortunate that at exactly that moment Vegeta had been physically connected to the Silver Terror, but it could not be helped.
Goku's last thought before the Silver Terror self-destructed was that at least the planet would not have been taken out – just the three of them. At least the others would live. And maybe Vegeta and he would survive, too?
*
The explosions occurred within a mere second of each other.
Trunks almost did not notice them because he was fighting with his whole heart again; fighting for his life and his sanity, leaving no room in his being for anything else.
It was the vanishing of ki that alarmed him, and Bra's response to it. He was getting used with her outbursts of emotion in his head now, and managed to shield himself mostly from it. He had to focus focus focus on the battle, he could not be distracted now, not while he was fighting, not while he was killing…
He did not ask, she told him. She vanished for a while, probably to try and spare her from the worst of her outburst.
Piccolo just fell. He's not responding. I can't feel his mind anymore. Goten and my brother are unconscious and bleeding, Dende is healing them. They already used all of their sensubeans earlier. They are very hurt, so it might take some time.
He did not answer, he knew there was more.
There was worse to come.
Of course there was – he was battling the Silver Terror, remember?
Everyone would just die all over again.
Naturally they were the last ones standing.
Wasn't this his fate, his destiny?
Then:
There is naked pain in Marrons eyes, an ill expression on her face. She is so desperately trying to be strong. "It's just you and me now, Trunks. Goten is dead. We… we're the only ones left."
And now:
Bra sobbed, a pathetic little sound. And… Dad and Goku are gone. The Terror with them, too. I don't know where they are, I can't reach them. I don't know whether they're dead or alive. Mum says they're missing in action. We're the only fighters left, Trunks.
Naturally they were the last ones standing.
Wasn't this his fate, his destiny?
How the hell was he supposed to fight Time and Destiny itself?
~~ Author's Note: you know the saying: things always get worse before they get better? Can't get much worse than this, don't you think?
