When they returned to the battle scene, they could see their fathers working in perfect synchrony to fight their enemy. It was truly impressive—until Ful reached out with his own symmetry and punched both of them in the stomach at the same time. He must've been much stronger than the boys had thought at first, for first Goku, then Vegeta, clutched his stomach and sucked in a painful gasp of air. Ful brought his elbows down on both black heads to send them plummeting to the ground. It was Piccolo and Gohan's turn next. They took to the skies without hesitation and attacked in unison. The familiarity between them of master and student was obvious: they worked in tandem even better than Goku and Vegeta had.

"Boys!" came a shout from behind them. "Get down!" Krillen slammed into them in a football tackle and threw them to the grass. Looping his arms over their shoulders to ensure they stayed down, he protected them from the worst of a giant energy blast that spread out to catch most of the fighters in its radius. None of them could see who'd been hit, or how much damage had been done. When the smoke covered them momentarily, Krillen sat up. "What are you doing here?" he demanded angrily. "I thought they told you to get out of here!"

"We don't need you to babysit us!" Trunks exclaimed, irritated because Krillen had done exactly that not ten seconds ago. He growled his frustration like his father. "What do you think, we're just helpless little kids? We can fight, too, y'know!" He glared at Goku's teammate. "We're not gonna be the 'last line of defense.'"

Krillen blinked at him, seeming bewildered by the sarcasm in Trunks's tone. Then he glared at the boy and held up a finger. "Do you two know how important it is to be the last line of defense?" He held their gazes with utter seriousness. "When no one else can go on…when everyone has reached their limit, or been defeated, or even died…" He stopped for effect and then concluded, "…it's all up to you." Sighing, he explained, "Don't you understand? Your dads put their faith in you. They know you won't let them down."

"Really?" Trunks asked, barely above a whisper. That wasn't what he had been expecting to hear.

"Krillen." Goten's voice sounded so serious that Trunks turned to him in surprise. His hands were fists. "Please let us fight. We won't get in your way this time. I promise." Krillen hesitated, unused to seeing Goten look so resolved.

"Well…" He pointed through the dissipating smoke with his thumb and muttered, "I'm not the one you have to convince." Goku and Vegeta were getting to their feet again. Trunks swallowed hard, but Goten flew right over to them. Trunks could only repress his reluctance and follow along behind.

Gohan and Piccolo were getting badly beaten by their opponent, even though they were fighting together. Ful socked and battered them until they couldn't resist and were limp before his punches. It had been a long time since Goten's brother had fought Cell. Lately, he had been spending less time training and more time studying to complete his bachelor's degree. His lack showed, as he was the first of the two to go down. Piccolo was a shrewd fighter, but he fell back before Ful's superior strength and crashed to the earth not long after Gohan did. This time, it wouldn't be Gohan who saved the world.

But maybe Trunks and Goten could.

"Dad!" Goten touched down behind his father. Goku turned with surprise and stood so that his body was between Ful and his son, shielding him without thought. "G-Goten?" He noticed Trunks making his belated way toward them. "And Trunks?" To say that Vegeta did not look happy would have been an understatement. Goku frowned down at them. "I thought we told you boys to—"

"Dad, please." Trunks didn't know where his friend got the gall to interrupt his father, or to stand so calmly before him when it was obvious that they were both in trouble up to their ears. "Please let us fight with you." He stood tall and strong, his hands now fists of determination. "We're Saiyans. This is what we were born to do. We can't let you protect us forever. We have to do the protecting. We have to help save the Earth."

"Yeah," Trunks found himself saying. Goten's words had inspired him. "We're not just dumb kids anymore, who don't know what we're doing. I mean, I know we messed up a lot against Buu, but…" His voice trailed off. He bit his lip and said simply, "We're strong now."

"So don't ask us to sit at home with Mom while you risk your life to save the universe. Gohan was younger than me when he beat Cell." Goten folded his arms. "We can do this, Dad. Don't hold us back."

His speech couldn't fail to impress the two men. Goku chuckled, rubbing his head in thought. Vegeta was even starting to smile. "Well done," he said gruffly to them. His smile widened. "You're finally acting like true Saiyans."

"Does that mean we can stay?" Trunks blurted. He had had no idea Goten was that good at convincing people.

Vegeta turned away. "Watch the battle," he instructed them.

Goku grinned at them. "When your turn comes…you'll know."

Yamcha and Tien were fighting now. Neither of the boys had ever seen them in action. They were pretty good. Their moves were focused and calculated—they may not have the strength of the Saiyans, but they could make every jab count. Yamcha curved his arms in a stance that Trunks had never seen before. "Wolf Fang Fist!" he shouted.

In the same moment, Tien yelled, "Tri-Beam!" Searing yellow energy shot from his hands like a laser. Yamcha's attack came from the opposite side, and the two chi blasts trapped Ful in the middle.

"Yeah! We did it!" cheered Yamcha, squeezing his hand into a fist. But the smoke quickly cleared, and their enemy didn't seem to have a scratch on him. He shot forward, and his fist sank so deep into Yamcha's stomach that the bulge could be seen through the Earthling's back. Goten gasped as blood flew from his mouth. The warrior fell, down for the count. Before Tien could react, Ful's elbow went right into his nose. The Z fighters could hear it crack, and a similar sound was heard when the alien raised his leg up to his nose and brought it down on Tien's smooth head. A second warrior was down.

"Guys, no!" Goku exclaimed. The only sound that encouraged them was the groaning. At least Tien and Yamcha were still alive.

Krillen hadn't been wasting time just watching the fight, though. A surge in his power level caused everyone to look his way. He was holding the glowing Destructo Disc above his head, just like in all the old stories. "See how you like this one, Ful!" he challenged their enemy. "Destructo Disc!" He threw the flattened energy blade in the alien's direction. To his satisfaction, Ful made the mistake of underestimating the Disc's power.

"Ha!" he shouted, sticking out his arms in front of him to block himself. "Just try it!" But the Destructo Disc wasn't one of those attacks that could be warded off. Krillen sent it into a deadly spin, straight toward its target. Ful reached out a hand to deflect it…and it passed right through his wrist. He shrieked as it buzzed the rest of the way past him to explode against a nearby rock formation. His hand was now on the ground, his arm a bleeding stump.

Trunks and Goten cheered and pumped their fists in the air. What an amazing attack! Krillen was a much better fighter than they had given him credit for.

Ful had picked up his severed hand as though he couldn't believe what had just occurred. He even brought the doomed body part back to his wrist as if he were trying to piece the bones back together. Then he vaporized the piece that had been a part of him until moments ago. The hand turned to ash as he engulfed it in chi. Then he balled his only remaining hand into a fist.

"Rrrrr…you'll pay for that," he swore to Krillen. He leaped forward like a blur, heading for his quarry. The only Earthling still standing took a brave fighting stance and prepared himself for the worst. Ful's blows came so fast that he could only block one out of ten of them. The power behind the strikes was enough to crack his bones. They would be breaking soon under the strain. The only reason he wasn't already dead was that the enemy was fighting one-handed.

"Krillen!" screamed Goku. He took off into the fight to help his friend. Drawing Ful's attention away from the diminutive bald fighter, he engaged the enemy in serious fist-to-fist combat. Ful must've put up an excellent fight even with only one hand, because it wasn't long before Goku's hair blossomed into gold. He had to be a Super Saiyan for this fight.

Goten and Trunks watched him do battle for a long time. Slowly, Ful seemed to gain the upper hand. Goku was incredibly strong, but he was still losing. Again and again he was downed, and again and again he got back up and returned to the fight. Finally, when the yellow power around him died, and he fell without regaining his feet, Vegeta entered the fray.

Now it was getting down to the wire. The boys held their breath as they watched the only adult still standing, do battle. Vegeta fought for a long time. Dozens of energy blasts, combos, mind games—he pulled out all the stops as he fought. Either more resilient or more stubborn than Goku, he always managed to push himself up again, even when he was beaten into the ground.

The moment came when Ful had him pinned down like a schoolground bully. He was hitting the Saiyan directly in the face. Trunks couldn't just stand back and watch anymore. Neither of them could. As one, they let loose their power and ascended to Super Saiyan level two. No one else was left. It was their turn now.

"You…jerk!" Trunks pounded his fist into his enemy's head as he said it. A rush of satisfaction filled him as the alien went flying.

"Over here, bonehead!" Goten yelled his taunt. Ful's ugly face contorted in a scowl, and he threw himself at the youngest fighter on the field. Goten had to put every ounce of focus and skill into just keeping him at bay. Trunks quickly soared to help his oldest friend.

"Still think we don't know how to fight?" he mocked their opponent. Side by side, they fought Ful from the front to work with the advantage of his missing hand. Their punches started scoring hits in his midsection. Could they actually win this?

The alien roared with vexation and snatched a handful of Goten's long, unruly hair. He threw him against Trunks so that their bodies collided with an "Oof!" Seeming to enjoy this method, their enemy grabbed each of them by the hair and brought their heads together. Crack. The impact of skull hitting skull was audible even above the boys' screams of pain. Crack. Crack. Crack. Crack. Crack.

Finally he tired of his cruel game and let them fall into a heap. Tears of pain wetted Trunks's face, and Goten was suffering double vision. He saw two of his enemy as Ful leaned toward them and whispered conspiratorially, "Do you know what happens when I sneeze?" He began tickling himself in the nose, a ridiculously common gesture in the middle of a life-or-death scenario. Slowly, he began taking a deep breath as his body's respiratory system reacted. His breaths came faster and faster. As the black head tilted back, Goten shut his damaged eyes and did the only thing he had time for: he covered Trunks as much as he could with his comparatively smaller body.

Fwoom. Flames burst forth from the alien's mouth. They roared around the two half-Saiyan boys, who howled in terror and were thrown back in a sizzling burst of heat. They came down hard. Trunks thought he heard something break as he crashed to the stone. Maybe it was Goten whose bone had snapped. His friend did seem to be in agony. Goten wouldn't stop crying out and groaning. How badly was he burned? Trunks could just see that his orange gi was gone from the waist up. And his hair had received a makeshift bob when the flames seared through it.

"Hey, Goten," croaked Trunks, "I like you better with your hair short." He laughed a little at his own joke, but quickly regretted it. If breathing by itself hurt, then laughing shook him with pain to the core. He concentrated on gasping for breath.

"Trunks." It was his father's voice, weak but still there. "Come here." Trunks made a truly valiant effort to get up, but he couldn't even raise his head.

"Dad…I can't…"

"I said," came Vegeta's voice again, "come here!" There was no way he could disobey his father when he sounded like that. Apparently the pleasure of motionlessness was something he was going to have to forfeit. Trunks locked his jaw and forced his body to bend to his will. Grimacing and grunting with every moment, he rolled onto his stomach and pulled himself along the ground to where Vegeta lay. It took all his willpower not to scream. He didn't want to draw their enemy's attention. Because he knew already that Vegeta had a plan. "Give me your hand," his father ordered him hoarsely as soon as Trunks was close. He reached forward and took his son's hand, their arms stretched out in front of them. Most of the white glove was already gone.

Trunks immediately felt more alert as his father's hand squeezed his strongly. He was able to lift his head and look at Vegeta, whose eyes were already on him. "I need you to clear your mind of all thoughts," the Saiyan prince said quietly. "I know you've never read minds before; so you're going to have to learn in a hurry. You must read my mind now." Trunks tried to focus on nothing except the instructions he was hearing. How did this work? "You're going inside my mind," Vegeta told him. "Think of yourself as a part of me. My thoughts are your thoughts." He shut his black eyes and for some reason looked as if he were steeling himself to do something very difficult. "See what I see…"