The Champion of Darkness
Written by: JaconKingston10
Edited by: LastationLover5000

This is Trunks:

A powerful Saiyan warrior with neither the pride or arrogance of a typical fighter of his species. A martial artist who cares more about peace than seeking out a fight, or testing his mettle. A swordsman, at least in his future, without peer who prefers to avoid having to draw his sword no matter how many times he is forced to.

Super Saiyan. The sole defender of Earth. A messenger from Earth's future. And yet, inside, he feels like he's none of these things. Inside, he still feels like a teenager, groping in the dark for answers that are far beyond him. "Green." That's what Cell had called him all those years ago. A novice. An amateur. To the powers that be, he is simply too idealistic. Too young.

He can't save anyone or anything.

Sometimes, when he is alone and being thoughtful, he reflects on his father: the Saiyan Prince, Vegeta. During his short stay in the past, he tried to learn everything from his father that he could possibly glean. He tried—tried oh so desperately!—to impress Vegeta, to make him proud. But, in moments like this, Trunks doubts that he ever accomplished that. Because it's the truth:

He can't save anyone or anything. Not the future. Not this planet. Not its billions of residents, freshly recovered after the devastation the Androids wrought. Not Mai. Not his mother. And certainly, he thinks with a bitter taste in his mouth, not the people in this hospital. Not when his enemy is as depraved and sadistic as Black.

Every moment that has led to this confrontation has been fraught with revelation for Trunks. But the most poignant of these revelations is this: that, during the peacetime, and even during the crisis regarding Majin Bū, Trunks got soft. He did the one thing his mentor, Gohan, warned him not to. The one thing his father, during his stint in the past, showed the most disgust at: he grew complacent.

The future was at peace. The Androids were gone, and Cell (in his first form) was stopped. Humanity rebuilt and war had nearly become a thing of the past. And, during all of this, Trunks had grown to like the idea of the world at peace. Once the threat of Bu was eliminated, there was no more reason to shore up his power and train his body. The threat was over.

The darkness had lost.

But now, in this moment, Trunks makes another bitter realization: the darkness never lost. Retreated, yes. Hide itself, absolutely. But not gone. Never defeated. The being that is standing at the opposite end of the hallway, a maniacal smile on his face—which is the spitting image of Son Gokū's— is the darkness's revenge. A being with the face of a friend who has come to murder and kill until the light is snuffed out.

That's what Gokū Black is; that is what Trunks must destroy.

And this realization comes with a second: that Trunks might not have the necessary skill and power to destroy this champion of the dark. That the battle may be lost before it has even begun. It is thatrealization that hurts the most. It is that realization that brings forth his fear, like an icy dragon emerging from its mountainous den.

But Trunks does not back down. No. That would be out of character for him. Defeat, and perhaps even death, might be certain, but there is still a chance—a chance to save the sick and wounded in this hospital from the dark form at the other end of the hallway; and it is this hope that Trunks holds onto in the moments before the fight begins.

He is the ultimate warrior.

And, as he processes the likelihood of his own demise, that of his beloved planet, and his place as its last line of defense, he makes a third and final realization: he wouldn't have it any other way.

"There you are, Trunks."

The young Saiyan hybrid gritted his teeth. The voice, smooth and seductive, yet hiding a venom more potent than any snake's, definitely belonged to Gokū Black. The dark doppelganger of Son Gokū stood in the hall opposite of Trunks grinning like the Devil himself. Behind him, Trunks was aware of Mai, who valiantly stood guard over the sick child in the bed next to her. She knew as well as he did that she could not withstand an attack from Black, and neither could the child next to her; but she held her ground regardless and kept her eyes focused on the enemy.

"Mai," Trunks said, despite keeping his gaze solely on Black. "Get the kid and go."

Mai gasped: "Trunks—"

"Go!" Trunks barked. "I will buy you and the others as much time as I can. Get as many people out as possible!"

Mai hesitated. She hesitated because she felt helpless. Trunks was the planet's savior, it's strongest warrior, and the only one who could withstand the brutal might of Gokū Black. All of this considered, however, Mai would rather be here, fighting at Trunks' side, than running scared with the rest of their resistance movement—no matter how noble their cause might be.

Still, she saw the determination in Trunks' eyes. She heard the urgency in his voice, and so she obeyed without further question: "Right!"

Down the hall, Black snickered. "It's futile. Even if they manage to escape, I'll still kill them. Every single human will die for the sake of justice. I thought I already made that clear to you, Trunks."

Trunks growled. "I won't just let you have your way, Black. I'm going to end things right now! No more innocent people will die in the name of your warped sense of justice!"

From Trunks erupted a burst of light bright enough to force Black to cover his eyes. Mai used the opportunity to pick the injured child up out of his hospital bed and fled from the room, down an adjacent hall away from the conflict. She silently prayed for Trunks' success as she ran.

As the brilliant light died away, Trunks emerged in his Super Saiyan form. Fighting in his base form would be pointless. He knew he stood no chance against Black without transforming, and suspected that even despite transforming he would face considerable difficulties obtaining victory.

For his part, Black appeared unmoved and unsurprised. "Super Saiyan again, Trunks? I had hoped that you would have learned a trick or two by now that would make this interesting." The dark shadow of Gokū assumed the Saiyan warrior's trademark fighting pose. "Oh well, if there's nothing else you can do to entertain me, I suppose I can end it here, then."

There was a moment — a moment that occurred frequently between two warriors, regardless of their opinions about the other — that always proceeded the initial blows of any fight. It was the quiet moment just before the first punch, in which both warriors stared one another down in a bid to size each other up and mentally prepare themselves for the battle ahead. In the case of Trunks and Black, that moment lasted less than a fraction of a second, and yet, to Trunks, it felt much longer.

During that moment, Trunks was keenly aware of how hard his heart was beating. He could sense Mai down below; she had taken the stairs in case the fighting caused the elevators to malfunction, but Trunks did not have enough time to curse to himself that she had taken this route. The elevator would have taken her further. At the speed she was traveling — down several floors worth of stairs carrying the injured child — she would not make it before the fighting became dangerous. He could also sense the other members of their resistance, gathering up the sick and injured before rushing them to the nearest exits. They too wouldn't fully make it in time.

Shit, Trunks had time enough to think that much. His job was about to get much harder—

—then Black exploded from his place at the end of the hall, a fiery black aura flaring up as he launched, and reared back to deliver a devastating punch aimed at Trunks' unguarded face. In the same instant, a similar aura of golden fire flared up around Trunks as the young Saiyan hybrid instinctively changed his posture to intercept Black's attack.

The moment was over. Now, the fight was on.

This is Black, Gokū Black, secretly the god Zamasu of the Tenth Universe:

Once a Kaioshin, a god of life, now the de facto god of destruction for the entire multiverse, Black is a dark shadow hanging over the universe and befitting his nickname. Nemesis of all mortals; judge and jury, now, to the entire human race (and its lone Saiyan defender), he is the personification of every living thing's fear that, one day, the gods will grow exhausted with their tiresome squabbling and end it all in a rain of fire and torment.

Their fears are vindicated—that day has come.

At one time, Black was the up and coming Kaioshin, respected throughout The Tenth Universe for his martial might, his ability to brew superb tea, and the role he would soon take in protecting all life in his universe. But Black's sense of justice would no longer allow him to peruse this path in life. He'd said farewell to his former friend and mentor, Gowasu, and severed ties with the gods themselves in the moment before he betrayed them—a moment that ultimately resulted in their collective demise.

Now, the mortals regard him, not as a god, but, as a devil. One who brings with him swift judgement, and leaves a wake of death and sorrow wherever he travels. And, as devils often do, he appears to them as a friend—a hero from their past: the beloved Son Gokū. He had obtained Gokū's body to gain the Saiyan's tremendous battle power. But here, on Earth, the Saiyan's body served a second purpose. A reminder to humanity that saviors can quickly become villains; a reminder to all mortals that the gods will not stand idly by and permit their conflict-ridden existences.

Black had painstakingly removed anyone who would resist his efforts. The troublesome Son Gokū was silenced, his power firmly in Black's hands; the Hakaishin were gone, a result of Black's extermination of the other Kaioshin, which began with his late mentor, Gowasu; and Zen'o was indifferent, more lost in his own childish antics than worrying about what was going on in the twelve universes. Now, the only resistance that was left stood before him.

Trunks.

The last threat humanity posed to Black's justice.

The last Saiyan in existence.

And so Black fights the Saiyan youth with every ounce of Son Gokū's power. Because his justice cannot be delayed anymore. Mortals, humans among them, need to be vanquished if a more orderly and elegant universe is to be born. A universe rightly overseen by Black himself, as only someone with his unique appreciation for justice truly can.

He is entirely incapable of caring what any mortal might think about him. The mortal before him, Trunks, believes that resisting Black's justice will save his planet and his people; he believes Black cruel and unjust, but, then, Trunks is no deity. He does not possess the divine wisdom needed to comprehend the absolute urgency and necessity of Black's actions. So Black ignores the way Trunks feels as he ignores the feelings of every other mortal he's ever killed (or ever will kill). He is a god—the god. And he is a just god.

Nothing can change that.

Instead, all Trunks' defiance has earned him is a slow and excruciating death. One in which he is forced to watch as more and more beings he cares about join the chorus of the dead at Black's hand. Soon, Trunks too will join that chorus, as resisting Black's justice is equivalent to a death sentence. A death sentence Black plans to exact in this confrontation, which has already gone on long enough. Too long.

Black, with sadistic glee, drops his restraints.

The seventh floor of the Western Capital Regional Hospital was completely in ruins. The battle between Super Saiyan Trunks and Gokū Black had only been ongoing for a little over five minutes, and already there was a gaping hole in the side of the building, revealing a stormy sky and a destroyed city. The room Mai had stood in with the injured child, mere moments before the fighting stared, was completely gone. Power in the building was out, and several floors had begun the process of collapsing.

Even so, the fight raged on.

Trunks, for his part, found himself up against a wall of unending endurance and unyielding power. Black was stronger than ever. His punches hit harder, his kicks came faster, and counterattacks were rendered almost impossible in the wake of the gap between Trunks' and Black's respective speeds. The young Saiyan hybrid had exhausted the limits of his Super Saiyan transformation trying to punch a hole in Black's considerable form, but found himself regrettably on the defense.

He could not fathom how Black had grown this strong in so short a timeframe. When the two warriors had first clashed, Trunks had found it within the realm of possibility to defeat Black, even though (at the time) their fight ended in a draw. In each subsequent confrontation, that window of possibility grew considerably narrower. Now, he feared, the window was completely shut. Black was a dinosaur, and he was an ant.

The Demon-With-Gokū's-Face smirked, as if sensing Trunks' realization. Then something happened that shattered Trunks to his core. In a single dreadful moment, following a chilling battle cry from Black himself, golden light flooded the destroyed halls of the seventh floor, fading seconds later to reveal Black in a Super Saiyan transformation of his own.

Trunks could barely form words adequate for his reaction: "Wha—"

"Are you surprised?" Black cut across him with a chilling grin. "I told you when we met, I am Son Gokū. That means that I too can take on this form. You should've expected this, Trunks."

Yes, Trunks realized, yes he should have.

There had always been a fear in the back of his mind that Black had this kind of power. That the fearsome power of his normal state was just the first inklings of his true destructive potential, and this was the proof. The monster's power had risen astronomically, much higher than Trunks' own Super Saiyan state. They were no longer in the same league.

No, Trunks thinks through gritted teeth. We were never in the same league.

Black assumed a fighting stance once again and Trunks, with no other choice, mimics him—drawing his sword and taking up a defensive posture while thinking of a plan. Inside, Trunks knew he wasn't out of options just yet. There was still the Super Saiyan form beyond the standard Super Saiyan. The transformation he had achieved while fighting Dabura. But he couldn't risk revealing his hand just yet. Black had already proven that high battle power and transformations alone couldn't beat him. No. Trunks needed to wait for the right moment to reveal his true power.

Or all would be lost.

Ki crackled between them, and the walls of the hospital began to tremble as their power built in anticipation of their resumed clash. Two pairs of green Super Saiyan eyes met, both equally fierce and determined. Then Black smirked again—a goading smirk that was meant to draw Trunks' attack. Trunks took his bait. The both of them moved at once.

The moment Black smirked, Trunks was done. He sprang and aimed a powerful punch at the Gokū clone's cocky face. He imagined, for the briefest instant, his punch connecting, breaking Black's nose and spraying blood onto the ruined hallway floors. He imagined that and he imagined all of the satisfaction that would come with it; but neither the connection nor the resulting satisfaction ever came.

The young Super Saiyan barely registered Black's movement. The demon's own transformation into the legendary Saiyan form had increased his speed to the point that, even at this close range, Trunks' attack never even came close to connecting. Instead, Black leaped over Trunks' punch, landed behind him, and kicked out at the younger Saiyan's exposed backside. Unlike Trunks' attack, Black's hit its mark. An explosion of pain rocketed Trunks through a wall of concrete and steel support beams into what was once a nurse's station on the outskirts of the seventh floor.

He picked himself up in time to avoid Black's downward punch; a punch that sent Black's fist straight through the floor. Trunks attempted to retaliate with a punch of his own while Black's fist was lodged in the ground, but the other Super Saiyan recovered with blinding speed and caught the incoming fist. Then, with monstrous strength, Black lifted Trunks and hurled him through another wall. This time, the Saiyan youth was greeted with the cool air of the outside world and barely managed to resume flight before gravity took effect and sent him plummeting seven floors to the ground below.

With smug confidence, Black casually walked through the destroyed hospital wall near the nurse's station towards the gaping hole in the hospital's outermost all—the hole just created when Trunks sailed through it. Trunks saw him approach and vaguely remembered that his sword was still somehow in his left hand. He rectified his posture to include his sword with renewed intention to use it.

Black's answer was an infuriating laugh. "That sword won't help you, Trunks. You can't beat me."

You won't talk so smugly when 'that sword' is impaled in your chest, was what Trunks wanted to say, but seething rage prevented the words from forming. That same rage caused his power to increase, but the increase was so minuscule it was barely worth acknowledging.

Black sprung forward from his perch and launched a blackish-green ki blast from his outstretched palm. Trunks' first success of the fight was cutting said blast in two with the Super Saiyan-enhanced cutting power of his sword. But that initial success was short-lived, as Black followed it up with a blitz of ki blasts, each much stronger than the first.

Trunks valiantly slashed at them with his sword, but he quickly realized that he could not possibly deflect them all. Not for a lack of power, but because Black was not aiming for him. He was aiming below. He was aiming for the ground, where Trunks and Mai's resistance fighters had been evacuating the sick and wounded. Screams and explosions filled Trunks' ears at the same moment he sensed a sharp decrease in ki. A split second later, he realized that he was feeling the deaths of dozens of innocent people.

A flash of familiar ki entered and left Trunks' mind, causing him to forget deflection and turn panicked towards the ground. "MAI!"

Sure enough, a single stray blast of Black's dark power was careening for Mai and the child she carried. She heard Trunks' voice, but he could tell from the speed and trajectory of the blast that she would never manage to dodge the blast or its shockwave. The Saiyan youth's next reaction was instinctual; he launched a mighty ki blast of his own with such speed that it quickly caught up to Black's and collided with it, causing an explosion of considerable size. Mai was forced to shield herself and the child from the shockwave, but, luckily, it was far enough from her and did not bring her harm.

From behind him, Trunks heard Black begin to clap and laugh mockingly. He gritted his teeth.

"Very good, Trunks," Black said. "If you had reacted a second later, she and the child would have been vaporized. If only you'd had such a keen reaction with the others that died. Perhaps, then, they would still be alive as well."

Trunks felt rage ignite in his chest like the engines of a great warship firing up. The weight of this rage was unlike any he had felt before. It dwarfed even the anger he had felt in the wake of Gohan's death so many years ago, at the hands of Numbers Seventeen and Eighteen. He turned slowly back towards Black and flashed the villain a murderous glare. When he did, Black's mocking smirk faded and the villain's mouth became a thin line.

The two enemies launched themselves at each other in the same instant and, for the first time, they were blow-for-blow. For every punch Trunks landed, Black landed a kick; for every kick Black landed, Trunks landed a punch. Each collision caused the ground beneath to shake. The now-fragile hospital was crumbling under the stress of their nearby battle, and Trunks became vaguely aware of Mai shouting at the survivors to clear the area, lest the hospital suddenly collapse and catch everyone unprepared beneath it.

This back and forth clash lasted several moments before Black regained his edge and managed to knock Trunks away. The villainous Gokū clone then ascended towards the stormy skies and took on a pose that doused Trunks in the cold waters of reality.

"You did well with that blast from earlier, Trunks," Black said, and his dark humor was gone from his voice. "Now, let's see if you can defend them from this." Black cupped his hands. "Ka... Me… Ha… Me…"

No.

Trunks thought it, then said it in a whisper: "No."

A Kamehameha was a devastating attack in the normal state, but in Super Saiyan form, it could erase an entire planet. Trunks could tell that Black was holding back enough to prevent the entire planet from exploding, but he was using enough power to erase the entire city—and all who were presently seeking refuge within it.

He was about to veer around and scream at Mai—at everyone–to run when Black uttered the final word of the dreadful incantation:

"HA!"

The blast moved like a plague, intending to wipe out and decimate all in its path, and only Trunks was there to stop it. He put himself between the blast and the innocents below, catching it in his bare hands—his sword uselessly falling to the ground below. The energy scorched his palms, causing him to wince, but Trunks held his ground nevertheless. Not that it was any good; he was being pushed back. Fast. Even as a Super Saiyan, he couldn't stop the might of Black's enhanced Kamehameha wave. Each inch he gave pushed him closer to the ground. Closer to the sick. The wounded. To the fighters who had given up everything to resist Black. To Mai.

Trunks thought about his mother, who was probably in her bunker at Capsule Corporation elsewhere in the city. He morbidly thought about her terrified final moments as Black's blast engulfed the city. In his head, he heard her scream, and, in his heart, he vowed not to let it happen.

This is Trunks at his breaking point:

As he desperately fights back against the doom blast Black has unleashed upon the innocent souls below him, Trunks realizes that the time for restraint has passed. In fact, it passed a long time ago, perhaps even the moment the fight started, but he was only just now realizing it. He doesn't need to reach for the anger necessary to transform. That anger is already there. It envelops him and has ever since Black killed those people minutes ago. No, instead, he opens himself up and lets the anger reach for him.

Power flows over him and around him in the form of a golden aura, accented by violent sparks of electricity, and then, suddenly, the tables are flipped. Now it is Trunks that is in command and it is Trunks that is pushing back the doom blast. Later, Trunks will realize that he has unconsciously transformed to the stage beyond Super Saiyan: that same form he took when fighting to prevent the resurrection of Majin Bū. But now, in this moment, all that matters is protecting the lives beneath him.

Now, it is all coming back to him. The unadulterated anger that had guided him to victory against the Androids is the same that is now allowing him to force back Black's Kamehameha. He remembers the ease at which he dispatched them once he returned from the past; the ease at which they had both died, and then he recalls the similar ease by which Cell had fallen soon after. In his mind, Black is about to die with similar ease.

In a moment of raw, unsurpassed, Saiyan power, Trunks crushes Black's doom blast and stands proudly before his enemy, who is shocked by his sudden increase in strength. The uncertainty written across Black's face says it all. This transformation could win Trunks the match. More, it could win the planet the peace it deserves. And so now, in this moment, it is Trunks' turn to smirk maliciously.

Trunks does smirk—

—and Black smirks back.

It is enough to catch Trunks off-guard. Does the villain not understand what he has unleashed? This rage-induced Super Saiyan form responsible for killing the Demon King could not possibly fail against a half-assed clone of Son Gokū. Surely Black had realized that when Trunks had crushed his Kamehameha…? But Black hasn't realized anything, except that there is one more restraint he has left to drop, and when he does it is Trunks who despairs.

It is at this point in the clash between good and evil that Trunks realizes he's lost. He lost from the moment the fight began. There was no chance—none. And there had never been. Because Black has transformed too. His hair is more rigid now, and there is electricity in his aura. Somehow, this demon that wears Gokū's face has also achieved the state that lies beyond Super Saiyan. And in the moment before Trunks realizes he's lost, he notices that Black's power in said state dwarfs his own.

Trunks gives into despair.

Trunks' rage exploded. In the instant he realized that Black's power surpassed his own, he drops every mental wall he had put into place to restrain his destructive Saiyan impulses and unleashes a devastating barrage of attacks. Black didn't even see it coming. The Saiyan youth's punches and kicks easily bypassed the villain's guard, slamming into his chest, stomach, and groin. But the youth's rage was a short fuse and, before he could deliver a definitive blow, exhaustion began to seep into his bones.

Black used the change in momentum to shift into his counterattack. The two enemies met in the middle, and once again they began to match each other blow of blow. As the clash continued, Black regained his sinister grin, and a moment later began to laugh.

"That's it, Trunks!" the sadistic clone of Gokū shouted with glee. "More! More! More! More! Give me more! Show me the true power of the Saiyan body!"

So, Trunks gave him more. He fought harder, faster, and blasted with every intention to vaporize the evil demon. He realized far too late that his efforts were having the opposite of his intended result. Instead of Black losing power, he was actually gaining power, as if Trunks was somehow showing him how to unlock the secrets of his own Saiyan biology.

And just like that, it's over.

In a moment of profound rage, enough to blind him to the consequences, Trunks lowered his guard to unleash another barrage of physical attacks. Black recognized the opening and converted his static Saiyan aura into a deadly energy sword of Super Saiyan power, which then proceeded to pierce Trunks' abdomen. As the pain of the maneuver registered in Trunks' head, all of the fight left him, and his hair regained its lavender color as his Super Saiyan power faded. With a satisfied smirk, Black removed the blade and Trunks—defeated physically, mentally, and spiritually—fell towards the ground below…

A/N: Oh good lord. OK, so I have always wanted to have a chapter of any one of my stories where it starts off in the middle of something else, and I think with this chapter, I've gotten my wish. You will never see a chapter written like this by myself — not out of a dislike for the format, but I'm incapable of it. This chapter is the last chapter of this story written by the man who was going to write the entire thing, JacobKingston. I absolutely love how this chapter was done, and I didn't originally intend to reveal the Super Saiyan form of Black this way, but Jacob went out of his way to use it spectacularly. I'm going to have to decide where to go from here with this story; I love the Future is Black, but I'm writing so many stories now (including trying to pen a novel) that I might be losing my mind only slightly. I dunno when the next chapter update will be, but I intend to finish this fanfiction before the Bio-Android Resurgence Arc of the Erased Chronicles concludes! I'll see you all soon!