And you give in
And you give out, for it
Ain't it so weird
How it makes you a weapon.
Never turn your back on it
Never turn your back on it again
Be careful
~ Matthew Good Band – 'Weapon'
Blood and Mercury
He felt violated. Something had wriggled its way inside his perfect sanctuary, and it was worming deeper and deeper into his mind. It was distracting him. It felt filthy somehow – he did not want anyone here. And however he tried to banish this thing out of his mind, it would not go. It clung onto some discarded part of his mind; it seemed to encourage the growth of an unnecessary remnant of his old life that he did not even want to look at anymore. His old life had been filled with pain and sadness, and he had left it behind without any regrets, embraced the searing power that had scorched him clean.
He now was pure perfection and power and energy and rage, why would he want to hang onto the imperfect being he used to be?
But that thing was feeding his old memories. It was reviving that part of him he wanted to die. He could not have that.
However, his toying with the Silver Terror distracted him from chasing his intruder out. He had to end it somehow. One of these two threats had to be eliminated soon, or he would fall apart and go insane on the spot. On some instinctive level, he was sure that his old memories would desecrate his painless and beautiful sanctuary, damaging it beyond any relief. They had to remain locked up forever. They. Had. To.
The being that used to be Trunks took a deep breath and breathed pure energy. It filled him with power until he thought he would burst. He ignored the feeble attempts of his enemy, his toy, to break loose from his death grip. It wasn't as if those attempts were fruitful, anyway. He kept drawing in energy – drawing and drawing.
He would end it.
***
"Dende!" Bulma shrieked. "He's outshining the sun!"
"What on earth is going on there?" Goten pulled loose from his father's embrace and stared at the eastern horizon with horror in his eyes. The power of the ki that was being channeled was beyond any belief. He had been unable to feel the ki of the Silver Terror, but somehow he was very able to detect Trunks. Maybe because he had been fused with his younger counterpart on a regular basis – it was a feeling as familiar as feeling himself. There was a difference, of course. This ki was infinitely stronger, and horrible and silver.
"Someone is going to die," Vegeta commented, crossing his arms. His voice was laced with amusement. "And I don't think that it is that kid from the future."
***
Two silver figures gleamed in the evening sky, burning brighter than they had any right to be. Ki energy crackled around them, as one of them was trying to struggle itself out of the hold the other had on its neck.
No one would have survived being in their near vicinity – the sheer energy that they produced would have killed any normal living being instantly. It was crushing the earth beneath them and made the sky seem as if it was cooking. Clouds were swirling around in mad patterns and lightning forked between the sky and the ground. Gusts of wind tugged at the ragged landscape. Tornados were formed and died on the spot. The earth moaned and shuddered, cracking the rocks and leveling the hills with a haywire gravity.
And the two silver figures did not even notice. They just continued their struggle.
Or rather, one of them seemed to struggle, while the other just seemed to hold him.
The enormity of what was happening here was felt all over the globe, but they did not seem to care. All that existed for them was the other, and the battle.
***
There was a second battle was going on, unseen to any living person. It was vaguely felt by any telepathic creature that happened to reside in the vicinity of Earth, however: it was a battle of minds. An eleven year old girl with blue hair was battling against the mind of an armored youth that desperately wanted to forget a part of himself. It took all of Bra's willpower to remind him again and again. She knew that he had just fled from the pain and immersed himself in his armor and his power to finally cleanse himself of the sadness and the edges of insanity. She knew that he would probably be happier this way; but he was too dangerous. He did not know what he was doing anymore. Her big brother had fancied himself a kami in a matter of minutes after putting on the armor. What would happen in a few hours? Would he take on a kai? Would he destroy the universe? She had to awake the Trunks inside of the Silver Terror, or else all would be lost forever.
Bra Briefs bit her lip and battled. She did not even notice the salt water streaming from her closed eyelids, or her mothers arms around her. All that existed for her was the other, and the battle.
***
Here by my side; an
angel,
Here by my side; the devil.
Never turn your back on me,
Never turn your back on me, again.
Here by my side, it's heaven.
***
"Shouldn't we join him?" asked Trunks, shielding his eyes against the bright light. He was trying to follow the battle from their remote location, but he could not make anything out.
Goku, standing in a similar position, shook his head. He glanced at the entranced Bra for a moment, almost cringing under the weight of her sheer presence. The mind of the young girl was miles away, but still so overwhelmingly present that he had to shield himself. He was afraid that she would crush him completely if he would let go for only a second. Of course he was very sensitive to mental energy; so he was suffering worse than most of the others. Gohan was sitting with his head in his hands, not even bothering to look up at the ki lights in the stormy sky. He was clearly suffering as well. Piccolo was sitting next to his former pupil, his face tight with tension and his lips curled in a silent growl.
Vegeta was staring in eastern direction with a similar tight face, but did not show much else. Goku suspected that the Saiya-jin prince would rather die than admit the pressure that was upon him, even though he must be proud of his daughter.
Goten and Trunks were the only ones that seemed to be coping easily; probably because of their head injury. Most of the mental communication seemed to pass them without being noticed. Goku figured that in this situation this was probably a good thing.
He looked at Bra and Bulma for a moment. Bulma's beautiful face was twisted with grief and anxiety, while she held her daughter tightly. He thought for a moment about her horrible invention, and what it must have taken to offer it to Future Trunks. She had asked him to sacrifice himself because she had no other choice. And now her daughter and the boy that would have been her son in another time were fighting the battle of their lives, because of the decision she had taken. She had to be hurting so much.
He wanted to help them so much. It was his nature to want to ease people's suffering, but he could not do anything right now. Not yet, at least. Finally he said to Trunks: "We have to wait. Bra will tell us when to go."
And so he waited.
***
~It is dark. Light from the glowing embers of the campfire is making flickering shadows on Marron's face. She is frowning into the fire, struggling to accept the things had had happened the past few days~
(ignored)
~The two of them, him and Goten, sitting on the edge of a pool, their feet in the water, the distinct smell of chlorine in his nose. There are cold drinks in their hands, they are talking about life and girls~
(ignored)
~His parents on Aranza, bickering with smiles on their faces. Vegeta scoops Bulma up in his arms and flies off with her~
(pushed away)
~Bra jumps into his arms and hugs him for all she's worth. "You are my favorite big brother," she giggles into his chest. She is seven years old~
(roughly shoved away)
~When they kiss, their tears mingle. He pulls Marron close, savoring this last intense moment together. They are standing just in front of the time machine, debris and dust all around them, embracing each other~
(sob)
(leave me alone)
The memories kept coming.
***
Here by my side
you are destruction
Here by my side
a new color to paint the world
Never turn your back on it
Never turn your back on it, again
Here by my side, it's heaven
***
Banishing the mental assault out of his vault of pure energy, Trunks began to pound on his enemy. A flurry of punches and kicks, well-placed and high-powered, rendered his adversary helpless. Its defenses were weak and inefficient. He broke through them with ease. Splinters of silver shattered in the light of his ki. It was almost laughable. He could not imagine that he had ever been scared of this pathetic little thing.
One quick swing sent the thing he had once been afraid of sprawling in the air. Filled with energy, Trunks extended his arms almost lazily in the typical Final Flash gesture.
"Fi…."
One notch higher. He probably already contained enough to vaporize the Terror, but he did not want to take any chances. A little more.
"…nal…"
He focused his energies on his adversary.
"FLASH!"
A release that felt better than anything he would ever feel racked his body. Brilliant violet-silver light sprung from his extended palms. For a moment he was dazzled by its beauty, almost forgetting where he was supposed to send it. But the moment was short, and he did not lose control.
(final flash final revenge)
One shot. Straight up. The violet-silver streaked through the sky, mocking every rainbow that would ever grace the skies in the future. And when it connected, the light intensified until no one would be able to look straight into it. Ribbons of light reflected into the evening sky, lighting it up for a heartbeat, while the rest of it did what it was supposed to do. It vaporized.
The Silver Terror could not scream physically, but Trunks clearly felt the high pitched sound of complete pain and horror echo in his mind. It did not even touch him – aside from stirring some vague feelings of contentment.
He looked straight into his own final flash, and watched with satisfaction how the armor simply melted off the Terror. It became liquid, drops of it scattered in the air (like blood and mercury) before they were finally vaporized, leaving nothing behind.
When the light subsided and his retina's had recovered from the spots in his vision, he could not find any traces left.
The Silver Terror was dead. He had killed it.
Yet you made a new one, a familiar voice echoed in his mind. Bra?
He ignored it, and laughed delightedly at his own victory. He had won. Victory and revenge were his. At last.
***
Be careful
This is where the world drops off
This is where the world drops off
Be careful
***
A/N: It's scary how fitting some songs can be with the story you are writing. I simply had to implement this in the story (credits at the top of the page). Hearing it was enough to create the images I so badly needed for this chapter. One more to go, people – the final struggle is at hand.
~LL
