Percussion
Chapter 12

Ashes

Gohan opened his eyes to find himself standing in what appeared to be a large cavern. Through the dim light and heavy fog he could see a series of long, winding tunnels, and massive stalactites hung overhead. He could hear a faint dripping behind him; he turned to see water droplets trickling from a cluster of stalactites into a small, faintly rippling pool on the ground.

"What's going on here?" Trunks frowned as he took a step toward Gohan.

"I don't know," Gohan said quietly. The air around him felt strangely heavy. "I have no idea where we are."

"This place seems abandoned," Trunks said tersely. "What kind of training exercise is this?"

"I don't know," Gohan repeated. "I'm not sensing anyone else around."

"Me neither." Trunks tensed up as his eyes darted from side to side, unable to make out much in the dimness of the cavern. "Something doesn't feel right."

"Yeah," Gohan agreed. He couldn't quite pin it down, but something about the underground labyrinth in which he'd found himself set his every nerve on edge. "Come on," he continued. "Let's take a look around, see if we can't figure out what it is we're supposed to be doing here."

"Right, sure," Trunks said. Gohan walked forward carefully, looking from left to right and struggling to get a read on any surrounding energy signatures. He could sense nothing.

Gohan stopped dead in his tracks. He couldn't sense anything—including, he realized, the ki of his companion.

"Trunks!" Gohan said in a harsh whisper, spinning on one heel to face his friend. "Can you sense my energy?"

"What?" Even in the dark, he could see Trunks furrow his brow in concentration. Another moment passed before the younger boy responded. "Oh. Oh, shit."

"I'll take that as a no." Gohan suppressed a shudder. "Better be on guard. Something's definitely wrong here."

"Just a sec." Gohan watched as Trunks clenched both fists, his face again falling into an expression of deep concentration. The cave brightened momentarily as a soft glow of pure energy surrounded him. Mere seconds passed before the light faded, leaving Trunks in his normal state.

Gohan's eyes widened. "Tell me what I think just happened didn't just happen."

"I can't transform," Trunks said, a look of worried confusion coming over his face.

Gohan swallowed loudly. "This is bad."

"No fucking kidding."

"Something about this place is messing with our ki."

"No shit, Gohan." Trunks' eyes darted from side to side as he tried to get his bearings. "Can you gather any energy at all?"

Gohan nodded, gathering an orb of pure ki between his palms. He held it for a few seconds, letting its glow light the cavern walls surrounding him before it faded into darkness. "Not much," Gohan finally answered, blinking rapidly as his eyes again adjusted to the darkness. "And I can't hold it for long."

"Fuck," Trunks swore, raising one hand to his forehead. "Just great."

Gohan let out a nervous chuckle. "You know, I don't remember you swearing this much the last time you were here."

Trunks barked out a short laugh, the tension in his voice echoing Gohan's. "It's a bad habit. I try to rein it in when I'm around kids." Trunks paused for a moment. "Even kids that can rip me to shreds."

Gohan opened his mouth to respond when he heard a faint rustling behind him. His ears perked up as he instinctively moved one step closer to the other demi-Saiyan. "What was that?"

"I said, even kids that can rip me to shreds."

"No," Gohan whispered, "I just heard something. Listen." Both teenagers fell silent. Gohan startled up as he heard the odd rustling again; he looked from side to side, trying to find the source of the noise.

"Gohan," Trunks whispered, "I think that came from overhead."

"What?" Gohan looked up, squinting at the dimly lit ceiling. He could make out vague shadows flitting along the stalactites, but could otherwise see nothing.

Both teenagers started as they felt, more than heard, something land behind them on the ground. They turned to face a tall, lanky, slightly hunched figure. Despite the darkness, Gohan could make out its narrow eyes and reptilian features. It raised one hand, baring sharp claws as its slitted tongue emerged from between its fangs with a loud hiss.

Gohan stood silently. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Trunks slip into fighting form. Gohan, by contrast, remained still; he couldn't get a read on this creature's power, and was hesitant to attack without getting a sense of how powerful this being actually was. Before he could warn his friend to do the same, the snake-like figure before him began to speak.

"Look at that," he said. The voice was low and sibilant, and its words were punctuated by another loud hiss. "It wants to fight us."

Gohan's eyes widened. "Us?"

Again, the two demi-Saiyans startled up when they heard two more soft thuds behind them. Gohan wordlessly slipped around so that he was back-to-back with Trunks. He felt the other boy's scabbard pressing into his back as he finally took a fighting stance that mirrored the other teenager's. They were surrounded, and, Gohan realized, they would have no choice but to fight their way out.

The three snake-like men stood before them. Though their stance was aggressive, all three stood perfectly still. Neither the demi-Saiyans nor their apparent adversaries seemed to want to make the first move.

The first strike came quicker than Gohan's could sense. It came from behind him; the fighter facing Trunks had thrown the first punch. Instinctively, he turned his head a few inches to see whether his friend had managed to block the blow.

This turned out to be a mistake. A moment later he felt a sharp pain in his gut. His vision blurred as he struggled to catch his breath, unsure which of the two creatures before him had struck. Gohan raised one arm, barely managing to block the next punch. He took a deep breath, realizing that his only hope would be to try to take the offensive.

He quickly sank to the ground, extending one leg in a roundhouse kick. He managed to knock both reptilians off balance, but only momentarily. In what appeared to be a synchronized move, both of his adversaries landed on their hands and instantly pushed themselves back up to their feet. Without missing a beat, one of them launched an energy beam toward Gohan. The teenager narrowly dodged the blast; the cave briefly lit up before the beam hit the ceiling, knock a large stalactite loose as rocks began to crumble around them.

Gohan took a moment to realize that the two cave dwellers now stood on either side of him. He wondered in the back of his mind whether it had been their plan all along to separate him from his ally. He could see out of the corner of his eye that Trunks had his hands full with his own opponent. He couldn't tell whether these creatures were absurdly strong, or whether his own powers had simply been diminished more than he'd realized, but he supposed it didn't matter. All that mattered was that he and Trunks were outnumbered and outmatched.

Gohan struggled to catch his breath as the two reptilians began circling around him. He stood in fighting form, preparing for the next strike to come. Before anyone could make a move, he heard his friend call out his name.

"Gohan!" Trunks shouted. "Move!" Without further warning, Gohan saw another energy beam hurtling toward the cave ceiling above him. He had only an instant to process what it was that Trunks was planning.

He barely managed to dive out of the way before another set of rocks and shattered stalactites came crumbling toward the ground. Gohan's adversaries did not react so quickly; Gohan could see through the dust that they had been immobilized, buried under what appeared to be several tons of stone.

The commotion seemed to distract Trunks' opponent long enough for Trunks to make an escape. The younger teenager ran toward Gohan, pulling him up by one hand before they both ran toward another, narrower tunnel in an attempt to regroup.

Gohan panted as they came to a stop, looking from left to right as he again tried to catch his breath. He saw Trunks do the same. "Looks like your own powers seem to be coming back," Gohan said, taking a step toward Trunks.

"Not really," Trunks said as he withdrew his sword from the sheath on his back. "That blast took everything I had."

"Wow," Gohan said, shaking his head in disbelief. Though the blast had done its job and allowed him and Trunks to escape for the time being, it hadn't been particularly large or powerful—certainly nowhere near Trunks' usual limits. "Whatever this place is doing to us, the natives don't seem to be having the same problems."

"Yeah, I gathered that much," Trunks said, gripping his sword with both hands. "So we have no idea where we are, we're surrounded by an unknown number of wildly strong snake-men, and our powers are shorting out."

Gohan swallowed. "We've survived worse," he said, hoping his voice sounded more confident to his friend than it did to his own ears.

"Have we?"

"Cell?"

"Cell killed me."

"Okay," Gohan admitted, "bad example. Sorry."

"Don't worry about it," Trunks said flatly. "What matters now is that we . . ." Trunks trailed off as he again glanced up toward the ceiling. "What was that?" he asked, looking back toward Gohan.

Gohan frowned at his friend. "What was—"

Trunks' eyes widened as he cut Gohan off. "Duck!"

Gohan had a split second before he saw Trunks' sword hurtling, point first, toward him. He narrowly dodged as it flew past him.

"What the . . ." Gohan turned around to see the cause of Trunks' abrupt actions. He jumped back as saw he yet another cave-dweller, this one impaled through the chest and pinned to the wall by Trunks' sword.

"Could I get a little more warning next time?" Gohan blurted out.

"No time," Trunks said as he stepped toward the reptilian, gripping the handle of his sword. "He was about to attack you." With that, Trunks quickly withdrew the sword from the cave-dweller's chest. The creature let out a soft, choked hiss as it sank toward the ground. Then, without warning, Gohan saw Trunks swing his sword once more in a single, fluid motion.

Gohan stared at the cleanly severed head as it rolled toward his feet. The reptilian's eyes were still open, and seemed to stare blankly up at Gohan's face. A sick, cold feeling filled the pit of his stomach as he raised his eyes back to Trunks. "Did you really have to do that?"

"We couldn't risk him getting up again," Trunks said stonily. The time-traveler's sword dripped crimson as he sheathed it once again. "Especially with the way this place is shorting out our energy."

"He wasn't going to get up," Gohan replied. "You launched a sword through his chest."

"So there wasn't really any harm beheading him, was there?"

Gohan tried to contain the shock he felt at his friend's icy words. "He wasn't a threat to us anymore."

Trunks took a step toward Gohan, narrowing his eyes at the taller boy. "What are you saying, Gohan?"

"I'm saying you just killed someone who couldn't fight back."

Trunks practically snarled out his next words. "And I suppose it would have been more merciful to leave him bleeding to death."

"You didn't have to confirm the kill like that."

A stunned look came over the younger Saiyan's face before it was replaced with anger. "Don't you tell me what I had to do. You have no idea—"

Gohan never heard the rest of Trunks' words. The cavern lit up for an instant before darkness fell.

Piccolo frowned at the two teenagers before him. They stood silently, their eyes closed beneath the swinging pendulum, exactly as they had been for the past several hours.

Mr. Popo spoke aloud the words that Piccolo was thinking. "It's unusual for a training session to last this long."

Piccolo nodded, turning back to the boys. "I know," he said simply. He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose to help relieve the tension behind his eyes. He couldn't wake them, nor could he follow them to whatever distant realm their spirits had been sent.

All he could do was watch and wait.

Trunks couldn't remember what he'd been saying. He couldn't remember why he'd been angry the instant before. He could remember, barely, that he and Gohan had been arguing, but if his life depended on it, he couldn't recall the topic.

The next several seconds rushed by in a haze. He was vaguely aware of his sword slicing through the body of another reptilian cave-dweller. His mind dimly processed the severed limbs before him as the attacker fell, dead and dismembered, at his feet.

Trunks dropped his sword, rushing back to the motionless form behind him. His vision cleared as he took in the sight of Gohan's body, lying face-up, on the ground.

"No. No." Trunks heard a harsh whisper fill his ears. It took him a moment to realize that the words were his own.

Trunks knelt before his friend. "Come on," he said, placing one hand on the other boy's shoulder, shaking it. "Wake up!"

There was no response.

Trunks hands pressed against Gohan's chest. He felt nothing. Frantically, he began pumping his hands, desperately trying to restart the older boy's heart.

Nothing.

A traitorous voice in his mind began to speak. You distracted him. You're the only reason he came here in the first place.

"No," Trunks repeated aloud. "This isn't happening."

You did this.

Gohan's eyes were still open.

Eyes still open. A pool of blood surrounding him. Thunder clapping in the background. Rain mixing with streams of blood along his face, his arm, his back—

"There's no time for this." Trunks shook his head, as if to shake out the image of the dead young man in his thoughts and focus on the terrifyingly still teenager before him.

Without thinking, he pulled one hand back, backhanding Gohan across the face. No reaction. He tried again, slapping harder, doing everything he could to keep his own panic at bay as he tried to revive the other teenager.

Gohan's eyes were blank.

"Damnit, Gohan, I will not lose you again!" He grabbed Gohan's shirt, pulling his body so it was sitting up slightly. "Wake up!" He shook the other teenager.

Gohan's head rolled back like a rag doll.

Trunks closed his eyes as he released Gohan, letting the older boy fall back to the ground. Blindly, acting on pure instinct, he gathered what ki he could in his hands. Silently, he released the energy into the still chest beneath his palms.

Something rose beneath Trunks' hands. He heard a soft gasp.

Trunks' eyes snapped open. Gohan's chest was moving, and he was stirring slightly. The older boy blinked a few times, as if even the dim light of the cavern was too much for his eyes.

"What happened?" Gohan's voice was hoarse.

"Your heart," Trunks's throat felt strained and painfully dry. "It just . . ." Trunks took a deep breath before continuing. "It stopped for a bit there."

Gohan frowned slightly, looking in confusion at the younger boy. "Then how . . . ?"

"I shot some energy into your chest."

"That . . . probably shouldn't have worked." Gohan stirred again, trying to sit up.

Trunks placed a hand on Gohan's shoulder, pushing him back toward the ground. "Lie still. You almost died there." Trunks felt his own heartbeat slow, the pounding in his chest dying down as his panic began to recede

"I think the blast I took just shocked my heart into stopping," Gohan said, his voice returning to its normal strength. "I actually feel alright." Again, he tried to sit up; Trunks did not stop him, instead opting to sit beside him on the ground as he pushed himself up.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I think so," Gohan said. He frowned; after a few moments, he shot the other teen a perplexed look. "Hey, Trunks?"

"Yeah?"

Slowly, Gohan brought a hand to his face, rubbing along his jawline and left cheek. "Why does my face hurt?"

Dende turned to the older Namekian, his wide eyes filled with concern. "They've been in there a long time."

"Yes," Piccolo agreed, not moving from his spot on the floor before the massive pendulum. "They have."

"Longer than they should have."

"I know," Piccolo said. "Do you think everything's alright?"

"I don't know, Piccolo," Dende said gently. "This is the first time anyone's used this chamber since I became guardian."

"Right," Piccolo said, his voice distant. He said nothing further as Dende gathered his staff and made his way back out onto the main platform of the lookout.

"Are you sure you're alright to walk?"

"For the tenth time, yes." Gohan shook his head in exasperation. "Like I said, it was just a shock. That's all."

"It was a shock that almost killed you," Trunks retorted, but did not press further. Gohan seemed to have regained his bearings with surprising speed. Trunks wondered whether the reasons for Gohan's swift recovery had something to do with this world's effects on their combat power, or whether the older boy was simply a remarkably quick healer.

"So what's the plan?" Trunks asked.

"I don't know," Gohan said, looking back up toward the cavern's ceiling. "Try to find a way out of here I guess."

Trunks hesitated for a moment before speaking again. "You shouldn't have come here, you know."

Gohan casually shrugged one shoulder. "It's like I said, this is the first time in a long time I've actually wanted to train."

"This isn't just sparring. This is dangerous."

"Yeah, I'm getting that."

Trunks was about to respond when he heard a now-familiar rustling somewhere overhead. "Shh." He reached one hand out, grabbing Gohan's arm to keep him from walking forward. "I think we've got company again."

Gohan's ears perked up before he silently nodded. Though he did not move into a fighting stance, his posture instantly stiffened as he slowly looked around the cavern.

Trunks reached back toward his scabbard for his sword. His eyes widened as his hand grabbed at nothing. Damn, he silently swore. He had, carelessly, left it behind him where Gohan had fallen. He would return for it later; he would have to rely on his skills in hand-to-hand combat for now.

Predictably, another snake-like cave dweller landed before them. A second landed on their other side. Trunks' eyes widened as a third one, followed by a fourth, joined the others. One let out a low hiss; another bared its fangs. Trunks wondered whether it was venom or merely saliva that dripped from its sharp, elongated teeth.

Without further ceremony, one attacked. Trunks blocked the blow, countering with a ki blast of his own. The reptilian easily deflected the blast as another moved in to strike.

It wasn't long before the four cave-dwellers had Trunks and Gohan once again separated, and each demi-Saiyan faced two opponents as they were both forced onto the defensive yet again. Trunks once more cursed his own carelessness in leaving his sword behind as he spared a glance toward Gohan. The older boy was doing all he could to stay standing, narrowly evading the reptilians' blows and blasts as the cavern shook around them.

In an instant, Trunks' attention was jolted back to his own fight. The distraction, however momentary, had lasted too long. Before he could react, both his arms were held tightly behind his back, and his vision began to blur as something constricted around his neck.

He wrested one hand out from behind his back and began to claw at the absurdly strong fingers wrapped around his throat. The grip began to loosen. Trunks gasped, desperately filling his lungs with air lest those fingers regain their vise grip on his neck.

Suddenly, Trunks felt a cold, sharp pain in his chest. The grip on his arm fell away completely, and he looked down to see a green, scaled arm sitting wrist-deep in his chest. Though his legs had gone weak, his body was forced upright by the lean, strong arm pierced through his ribcage.

After what seemed like an eternity, that strangely cold arm pulled back. Trunks only had a moment to appreciate the thick blood that coated the creature's hand before he fell. Involuntarily, Trunks let out a soft sigh, filled with an odd combination of agony and relief, as his knees hit the ground.

Distantly, he heard a familiar voice calling out his name, but couldn't respond. He could only cough, blood dribbling from his mouth as his face lay pressed against the dirt of the cavern floor. He could make out a blur of motion before him before he felt a pair of strong hands grab his shoulders, turning him so he lay on his back.

Trunks' chest no longer hurt, but it felt cold, as though the cave-dweller's icy hand still lay inside. His blood-stained lips moved silently. He tried to form words—any words—but it was as though he had forgotten how to speak. Instead, he heard nothing as he felt blood and bile pool in the back of his throat.

His world faded to black.

Gohan's eyes snapped open.

He immediately looked down. There was no blood on his hands, no dirt on his clothes, and, he realized as he looked to his right, Trunks appeared to be very much alive beside him.

Trunks' hand went to his chest, feeling for the wound that had gaped there moments before. He reached back for his scabbard; his hand gripped the handle of his sword, now safely tucked away in his sheath. Though he had dark circles under his eyes and his face was lined with exhaustion, he was apparently unharmed.

"Thank goodness, you're back." Gohan shook his head, finally registering the sight of Mr. Popo before him. Piccolo was standing beside him, his arms folded, staring intently at the two teenagers.

Trunks took the opportunity to speak up. "Back? What happened?"

Piccolo frowned at Trunks. "You tell us."

Gohan wearily stepped off the dais beneath the pendulum, stepping down to the floor. "What do you mean? What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" Piccolo echoed incredulously. The look of concern on his mentor's face set Gohan slightly on edge. "What happened in there? Why were you gone so long?"

Gohan raised one eyebrow. "So long?"

"You've been in there for three days."

"Why didn't you wake us up?" asked Trunks as he stepped off the platform.

"It can be very dangerous to remove someone from the room before they come to," Mr. Popo explained. "We couldn't risk separating your spirits from your bodies."

"It didn't feel like three days passed in there," Gohan said, as much to himself as to Piccolo. "It only felt like a few hours."

"That doesn't make any sense." Piccolo frowned at his former pupil's words. "Why did so much more time pass out here than in there?"

"If I had to guess, I'd say it has something to do with how powerful you've become." Gohan and Trunks both turned to see Dende reenter the dimly-lit chamber.

"Of course," Mr. Popo agreed. "They're much stronger than the last group to go in. The Pendulum Room responds to the needs of its users. A few hours of training would do nothing at your level."

"I should have anticipated something like this," Piccolo said, shaking his head. "This was a bad idea."

"No one expected this," Trunks said. "It's no one's fault."

"You should be thanking Piccolo," Mr. Popo interjected. "He would not leave this room until you awoke."

"So you've been watching us stand here for three days?" asked Gohan.

"I couldn't help feeling somewhat responsible for it," Piccolo answered.

"You didn't have to do that, Piccolo."

Trunks' thoughts, meanwhile, seemed to be elsewhere. "I thought . . . how am I still alive?"

Dende frowned at the teenager. "Do you really think we would put your lives at risk during a training exercise?"

"If you die in the Pendulum Room," Mr. Popo continued, "you return to this room and your own bodies."

"It's probably the main advantage of using the Pendulum Room," Dende added.

"Though I don't think it outweighs the disadvantages," said Piccolo. "Not if every session lasts for days at a time."

"It was worth a shot," Trunks said, shrugging one shoulder as he looked toward the sunlit lookout through the open door of the darkened chamber. "I know you were trying to help," he said, sincerely if somewhat distantly. He looked as if he wanted to say something else, but instead only let out a loud yawn. He raised one hand to his eyes, rubbing them blearily. "Three days, huh?"

"Yes," Dende said with a gentle chuckle. "You should probably go get some rest."

"No argument here," Trunks said, suppressing another yawn. "Thanks for everything."

"Nothing to thank us for," Piccolo insisted. Trunks did not respond in kind, instead bidding the two Namekians and Mr. Popo a quick farewell before stepping out onto the lookout. Gohan quickly followed after him.

Trunks was about to take flight when he heard the other teenager's voice call out behind him. "Wait," Gohan said, jogging to catch up to the younger Saiyan.

Trunks turned on one heel to face Gohan. "Yes?"

"Um," Gohan began awkwardly. "About what happened in there."

"Which particular thing?" Trunks asked flatly. "Your heart stopping? Me dying?" Trunks looked away from Gohan, casting his gaze downward toward the earth's surface. His next words were almost too quiet to be heard. "Or you calling me a murderer?"

"I didn't . . . I wouldn't . . ." Gohan frowned, hit by a wave of guilt as he took in the wounded look on the other boy's face. "I'd never say that. I mean, you saved my life twice in the space of two minutes in there. Er, sort of." When Trunks said nothing in response, Gohan continued. "I understand what you did," he said. "It's not like you didn't have your reasons. It made sense. I've just never seen you like that before."

"Sure you have," Trunks said quietly. "When I killed Frieza and his father, remember?" Silence again fell upon the two teenagers as Trunks continued to stare down at the earth below.

Several long moments passed before Trunks spoke again. "It's been longer for you than me, I realize."

"And I guess I didn't really know you then."

"I guess not." Trunks finally turned his head to once again face the other boy. "I didn't enjoy it, Gohan." Another long, awkward pause fell between them. Again, Trunks was the one to break the silence. "We should both be getting home."

"Yeah," Gohan said lamely, unsure what else to add. Before he had the chance to say anything more, Trunks turned away from him and took flight, diving quickly down toward the Earth's surface. It was only when he'd disappeared from sight that Gohan began his own flight home.