-Gohan-
Falling.
He could feel himself falling. The world around him was black as ink as he continued to fall, helpless to the forces as he desperately tried to use his energy to stop his descent.
He tried, but to no avail as continued to fall deeper and deeper into the strange void. The world around him felt thick like tar against his skin as he rushed towards whatever awaited him at the bottom. He tried to scream, but even that privilege was denied as his efforts were met with silence.
What the hell is going on!?
His mind raced as he could feel his heart beating rapidly. Panic rose in his chest as he tried to make sense of his surroundings. His eyes searched desperately for something, anything that could give him even the slightest inclination of what was going on. Scanning through the darkness, his eyes finally landed on something. There was a scene playing out below him, one that he knew, a memory.
It was old but still clear as he drew closer in his descent. He could see his father and Mr. Piccolo, before he became his friend, fighting his uncle Raditz. He watched as his father, Goku cried out in pain as Raditz delivered a powerful blow to this ribcage. He remembered his tiny hands tightening into small fists in that moment, his small, childlike rage overcoming him as suddenly he didn't care that he was trapped in this small space craft. He didn't care that he was just a small child, he didn't care that he didn't know how to fight or even provide for himself at a mere four years old.
He wanted to help his dad. He wanted to stop the bad man from hurting his dad anymore.
Gohan watched as his younger self exploded from the small pod before colliding head first into the larger Saiyan's torso. The attack had been primal and raw. He remembered feeling like he'd finally done something to help his dad before promptly being knocked away by his older and meaner uncle.
Gohan reached out to try and grip at the edges of the memory as he drew closer, hoping that maybe if he grabbed it, he could stop this maddening descent.
But the memory flew past him, sailing upward as he continued towards whatever was in store for him at the bottom.
Before he knew it, another memory appeared below. It was hard to make out at first, but as he drew nearer, he could finally see what it was. He was standing up to Vegeta, driving him back with a flurry of blows that the Saiyan Prince was struggling to parry in his injured state. Gohan remembered that fight. It had been during the confrontation against Vegeta and Nappa. He remembered seeing his dad's broken and beaten body lying prone on the ground and his anger at seeing his dad so hurt overwhelming him. He'd rushed Vegeta, throwing everything he had at the man. He'd managed to hold off the Saiyan elite for a good minute before his fighting spirit faltered, and a fist met the bridge of his nose before an axe handle slammed against the back of his head, sending him into the dirt.
Gohan didn't try to grab onto this memory as he continued to fall. He already knew that he wouldn't be able to stop his descent anyway.
Gohan watched as yet another memory came into view. He recognized it right away as he saw the familiar landscape of Namek, its bright green grass and miscellaneous bodies of water everywhere creating a beautiful scenery. It was the fight against Frieza. He'd been watching Piccolo, someone who he considered his mentor and his friend being slowly picked apart as Fieza laughed at his pain. Snarling, the boy rushed the tyrant, burying fist after fist into Frieza's midsection before slamming him straight into the ground below. Before the Tyrant could recover, Gohan had redirected all the energy he had into his hand before thrusting it down delivering the massive wave of energy straight towards Frieza's unprepared figure. The enormous orb of energy connected before the tyrant could react, driving into Frieza with all the power of Gohan's explosive rage. He remembered feeling unstoppable in that moment. He remembered feeling like nothing, not even Frieza mattered in that moment. The only thing that mattered was that he'd stopped his friend, Piccolo from being hurt any more.
The victory was short lived however as moments after that swell of pride washed over him, Gohan remembered watching his own ball of energy get rebounded back at him, Frieza cackling as he shoved the power straight towards his already exhausted form. Had it not been for Piccolo grabbing him and pulling him out of the way just in time, Gohan figured that he would have likely perished from the attack. The memory continued on as Gohan saw himself and his friends forced back once more, fighting for their lives as they desperately prayed for Goku to arrive soon.
The dark void pulled him further still as he continued to fall, the memory fading away as he passed it. A frown tugged at the corners of the Demi-Saiyan's lips as he continued to fall. He knew what was coming next. He'd figured it out after seeing the memory with Vegeta.
The man slowed to a stop as the void suddenly supported his weight, bobing him up and down like a man floating in water. Gohan waited patiently for what he knew was to arrive.
Just as he predicted, two forms stepped out from the darkness just in front of him, as if the darkness itself birthed them from its womb. Android Seventeen and Android Eighteen, each bearing their smug, malicious grins and cold dead gazes. They stared at him for a long time as Gohan stared back. Without warning, the void around him began to fill with color. Dozens of memories surrounded them as the void suddenly vanished. In its place was years of battle, of conflict, of being beaten, burned, savaged, taunted, humiliated and more. Gohan didn't need to look around him to know what the scenes were playing out. He'd lived through all of it. He knew, all of it. It was his past, present, and future. Each of the scenes continued to play out until they all ended with the exact same ending. All of the scenes stopped as Gohan fell, as he was crushed to the dirt or forced to retreat. They paused just at the moment that Gohan was left bloody on the floor, slowly pulling himself up and crawling away in a desperate effort to get away from the Androids who'd brutalized him yet again. Slowly, one by one, each scene faded away until Gohan was left floating in the darkness, the two Androids staring back at him unmoving.
Gohan watched as the two figures each raised their hands, pools of golden energy shimmering as it collected within their palms. Gohan closed his eyes and waited, knowing that there wasn't any other way for this dream to end. He knew that no matter what he did, no matter how hard he fought it, this was his destiny.
To fall by the hands of the Androids.
The Demi-Saiyan felt golden energy overwhelm him, his body rapidly burning away, deteriorating until there was nothing left.
.
.
.
Gohan's eyes slowly opened as he was released from the confines of his dream. His eyes slowly scanned the room around him. He could see several I.V's each attached to him at various parts of his body, pumping precious life fluids into him as his pulse announced itself in low beeps from the machine next to him. His body still hurt. It hurt more than it had hurt in a long, long time. But it was hardly the most hurt he'd ever felt in his life.
This hardly compares.
He thought to himself as he registered the copious amount of bandages that covered the majority of his body. He took a mental assessment of how clean they felt, using it as a gage for how long he'd been out from the amount of blood they'd collected. He'd developed a knack for guessing how long he'd been out after an encounter with the Androids after so many times.
They're mostly dry...so...around three or four days maybe? A week at tops.
Gohan concluded as he scanned the room. He was back at Bulma's of course, too risky to have him hold up at a legitimate hospital. The Androids might go looking for him there if they knew he was still alive, which they definitely did because-
His thoughts stopped as he was brought back to that moment just before his collapse. He remembered watching Eighteen stare down at him with a frightened...or maybe nervous expression? He'd never seen either of them wear an expression like that before. Usually it was an annoyed sneer when he got the better of them and actually got a hit in, or a malicious grin as they succeeded in inflicting him with a wound that would leave the young man with yet another marking scar to remind him of his continuous defeat.
The Demi-Saiyan let out a slow sigh as he pushed the thought away. He'd much rather focus on what happened in those final moments of their exchange. He'd thought for certain that this had been it, that this exchange would mark his final moments.
So why am I still here? Why am I still alive in this makeshift hospital room?
It made no sense to him, what would be the reasoning behind letting him live? And why the face? Why had she'd appeared so...mortified at that moment? None of it made sense to the young Saiyan as he let his head sink further into the mostly white pillow it occupied.
"What the hell happened to me out there?" he quietly asked himself, his mind searching for answers as he reflected over their fight. Had he triggered a malfunction somehow? He tried to think of all of the attacks he'd managed to actually connect with the female Android. As far as he was concerned, none of them were out of the ordinary for their typical battle. He'd kicked her in the head dozens of times, blasted her away dozens of times. It didn't make sense that this time for some reason, it could have led to the girl malfunctioning at such a critical moment.
Oh...could it have been...that she was used to their routine too? Was it possible that he wasn't the only one stuck in this song and dance of rinse, and defeat? Could it have been possible that after so long of kicking his ass, of torturing, battering, and brutalizing him, she couldn't go through with actually finishing him?
Like I'm their own personal punching bag...but be careful! He might break!
Gohan scowled at the thought. It disgusted him to think that was what he'd become for those monsters. He finally understood it all. In what he'd thought would be his final moments, it'd finally all clicked for the young Demi-Saiyan. The reason why he could never destroy them even after all these years, why he'd never been able to turn the tides or even put just one of them down.
I want to lose...I need to almost. It's who I am at this point. It's my identity, my name. It's what I'm best known for. The 'Golden Fighter'... the man who loses to the Androids on a regular basis.
Gohan was all too familiar with how the newspaper articles treated him. Sure, there were plenty of people who thought he was a hero. A warrior who had the power to challenge the monsters that so often terrorized this world. Ofcourse, there were also the thousands of people who hated him. Hated him because he could never actually get the job done. For all the effort he put in, for all the sacrifice he suffered, he never actually stopped the Androids destruction. Sure, he delayed it, and he saved the people that he could amidst their rampages, but he never stopped it.
His arrival rarely brought cheers from the people who saw him anymore. His arrival didn't mean anything anymore. People saw him, they recognized him, and knew that he was ultimately just as helpless as the rest of them. He was just as stuck in this nightmare as the rest of them were, helpless to suffer the Androids misdoing and evil just like the rest of them.
To many, he was a false hope. A false hero that only served to lead people on. His very presence, his very existence was a lie that things would get better. It was a brother telling his dying younger sibling that he was going to make it, that he was going to pull through when he clearly wasn't. Sure, it was a pleasant lie, it made people feel better to believe it, but it was a lie all the same.
It was a fact that Gohan knew all too well. And he hated himself for it.
Gohan's eyes lazily studied the ceiling tiles above him, his mind processing all that he'd come to terms with during his last fight against the Androids. He understood his problem now. He understood why he couldn't beat the Androids, why he so consistently failed in his efforts to stop this nightmare, but that didn't change anything.
Just because he understood the issue, didn't mean that suddenly solved the matter. Knowing that he didn't believe in himself, or believe that he could actually win against the Androids didn't suddenly mean that the power to stop them was there. An alcoholic who realized that he had a drinking problem didn't abruptly stop drinking just because he understood that he had a problem.
But it's a step.
He admitted to himself. It was a step in the right direction. But now…
Now I need to figure out the next step.
If you were an alcoholic, there were groups that you could go to. If you were addicted to cigarettes, there were nicotine patches you could try. What did you do when you were stuck in a loop of getting savagely beaten by two monsters that had enough power to decimate the planet? He doubted there were meetings for people suffering from that condition.
Gohan scowled at himself, sarcasm wasn't going to net him anything but spite towards himself. He doubted self hatred would lead him anywhere but back towards the doubt that led to all of his failures.
I need to think differently, I need to focus on what I can do to stop all of this.
His mind pushed back to the fight, to when he had finally gotten an edge on the Androids, when he'd finally delivered what he'd foolishly thought would be a decisive strike in the battle towards Androids Seventeen after-
His eyes widened in realization.
After I'd gone on the offensive!
It'd been a shock for both the Androids and himself. He remembered seeing their surprised expressions as he'd rushed them, doing something that he'd rarely if ever did in his battles against them. Typically, he would fight smart, reduce his risks and fight defensively recognizing that he was at a disadvantage with it being two fighters against one. He would wait for an opening, protecting himself until one of them would make a mistake and then he'd capitalize on it. Driving a knee into their sternum after dodging an attack or blasting one away when the other grew too far to interrupt his attack, but rarely would he do more than that.
Gohan was used to playing defensively, punishing them for their mistakes and nothing more. They were used to it too, used to being on the attack and controlling the flow of the battle.
When he'd rushed forward, when he'd gone on the offensive for the first time in he didn't know how long, it'd been a break from the norm, a new variable in this well rehearsed routine of theirs. But it alone wasn't the answer. Gohan knew that if he went into battle again with the assumption that he just needed to go on the offensive, he would lose just like he always did. It was more than that, it was more than just the way he fought.
It was a change from the way I perceive things, a change in the way I perceive the Androids. For just a moment, it marked a change in how I view myself.
It'd been a small adjustment of his attitude born out of desperation. In that moment, He doubted that he could fight the Androids as he normally did since now he only had one arm. It'd forced him to think differently and try something new. His mouth felt dry as he remembered something that he'd initially overlooked.
My rage! That swell of power I always saw as a kid! It came back!
If only for the briefest of moments, he'd felt his power swell and his rage overwhelm him. It'd returned to him, if only for a moment to help him resist the Androids for seconds longer than he normally could have. Looking back on it now, it only served to hammer in the point further.
I need to think differently! I need to break this...routine I have with the Androids in every way I can think of. I need to view myself, the world, everything in a different light...and then maybe, just maybe I'll be able to finally put a stop to the Androids.
A smile pulled at his lips. For the first time in a long time, he felt confidence in himself, for the first time in a long time, he felt hope.
He didn't know exactly how he was going to stop it. He didn't know exactly how he was going to break free from this curse of self-doubt and routine, but he understood what needed to be done if he wanted to rise above this and finally become the hero the world so desperately needed.
I can do this. I can become more than I am.
The man's gaze slowly turned to where his left arm would be, should be. He'd recognized it as a detriment for all this time. Every time he'd seen himself in the mirror it'd been a reminder of his mistake, a constant reminder that he had failed. But now, it had accidently led him towards discovering a new avenue towards his own success. The Androids had mistakenly given him the answer that he needed to their defeat by taking it away. It had been a new variable, a new piece to this routine that hadn't been expected.
A bright, confident smile had spread across the Saiyan's face as he sat there in bed. He'd seen bringing Trunks to that carnival as a risk, and his mistake. But now that he understood this about himself, now that he saw it for what it really was, he realized that he needed this injury for him to finally wake up, to finally realize what the problem was.
Almost as if on cue the windowed door opened to exactly the face he wanted to see.
"Trunks!" Gohan almost shouted as he saw the boy. The elder Saiyan was grinning ear to ear, happier than he'd been in a long time.
The young teen startled at his name, the two I.V replacement bags falling from his arms as he jumped. His shocked expression suddenly lit up as he saw his friend and mentor awake!
"Gohan! You're finally up!"
Gohan nodded smiling, "I am! And I realize now that I need to thank you!"
Trunks paused, his mouth agape, "...for replacing your I.V bags?" he asked questioningly. It was clear by the look on his face that the boy was confused.
Gohan chuckled before shaking his head, "No, no, not that. I need to thank you for coming along with me to fight the Androids that one time at the amusement park. Losing my arm was probably the best thing that ever happened to me!"
The frown that pulled at Trunks's face made Gohan realize that did not come out the way he'd intended it to.
Trunks's eyes immediately shifted downward, "I...look, I know it's my fault you lost your arm and I'm sorry. If I hadn't been there-"
"No, no, no!" Gohan waved his hand in a dismissing manner realizing what it'd sounded like he'd been saying. From the tone in his voice Gohan guess the boy thought he'd been sarcastic and was actually blaming him for the injury, which he was, but not in the negative light Trunks was seeing.
"Ah, shoot it's kinda hard to explain." Gohan grumbled to himself as he raised his arm and rubbed the back of his head, "But, I'm really not mad. I was for a time, but I'm realizing now that I...look." he sighed bringing his arm down and meeting Trunks's gaze with an easy smile, "I know it doesn't make any sense, but trust me when I say that I needed this injury to finally think straight. Thank you Trunks. You don't realize it now, but you might have just opened the door to ending this nightmare for good."
Trunks opened and closed his mouth several times to respond, but the look of confusion written on the boy's face was even more defined than it had been moments earlier.
"Are...you serious?"
Gohan couldn't contain his laughter, "I am. Trust me when I say that I'm being honest."
Trunks studied the man for a short time looking puzzled.
After a few moments he shrugged as said, "I mean, if you say so."
Gohan nodded before noticing Trunks's expression suddenly shift from one of delight, to one of anger.
Raising an eyebrow, Gohan began, "What's the mat-"
"You went without me!" Trunks abruptly shouted.
Gohan's mouth went dry.
Crap, I totally forgot about that.
"I can't believe you lied to me like that!" The boy complained as he crossed his arms.
Gohan stayed quiet for several seconds before sighing, "I'm sorry Trunks. I know it was wrong to lie to you like that. I didn't want to, but I didn't know if you would listen to me and stay out of the fight."
"You almost died!"
"And you could have too if you'd come along!" Gohan raised his voice to match Trunks, his eyes giving the teen a hard look, "If you came then we might not be having this conversation right now!"
The rage Trunks had felt died in his throat as his shoulders slumped. The fire in his eyes dissipated as his gaze lowered. Gohan sighed watching the boy. Gohan knew that Trunks wasn't dumb, he understood that he wasn't powerful compared to he or the Androids, he knew that he couldn't stop the Androids on his own.
But that didn't mean that he didn't want to help.
Gohan could relate to that feeling, that desire, no-need to help those in danger. The boy couldn't stop himself from helping those in need, and Gohan couldn't fault him for that. He was the exact same way.
"Trunks." he said in a softer tone, an easy, fatherly tone, "I know you want to help. I'm proud of you for that. I'm proud of you for more than you know. But that doesn't change the fact of the matter that you aren't ready yet."
Trunks slowly pulled his gaze from the floor to meet Gohan's, "...but if I'm not ready now...when will I be ready?"
Gohan tried to give the boy the most reassuring smile he could muster, "Soon Trunks. I promise, soon." and this time, he believed it.
-Eighteen-
She was lying on her bed, staring up at the ceiling, her motivation to do something, anything, entirely depleted. She felt disgusted with herself. Disgusted that she felt this doubt in the first place, disgusted that she'd let a pathetic human of all things get in her head and absolutely disgusted that she'd let Blondie live.
She'd returned after an hour of debate with herself, intent to finish the job if the job still needed finishing. She'd half expected Blondie's corpse to be still laying there, dead having expired by himself without the proper medical attention.
But of course, in typical fashion just as Seventeen had said, the man had managed to get away. He'd survived again by the skin of his teeth.
And worst yet, this time it was entirely her own fault.
"God damn it all." She quietly whispered to herself. Rolling over, she layed on her stomach her face now buried in one of the several pillows littering the bed. It'd been a young teen's room most likely, that would explain all the frills. She'd called dibs on it a few weeks ago after she and Seventeen exploded the car driving into the lot. Luckily it seemed they'd gotten the whole family in the carnage leaving little clean up on their end when they took over the house. She always hated when they had to kill the family inside and drag out their corpses, it always left blood stains on the carpets and she hated that. Very annoying to look at all the time when you're just trying to relax after a long day of killing, like looking at work files after you get home from a long shift.
Eighteen scowled at herself for getting so off topic. Thinking back to the moments before she'd left Blondie to live, she realized what she'd done.
She'd made her decision. For her, there was no going back, not until this infernal doubt was resolved. She had to make sure that one way or another, she knew what she was doing was right...well not 'right' in the moral sense but in the sense that she wasn't going to die by her brother's hands in a century or two.
She understood her problem now, understood what the issue was but was left uncertain of what she needed to do to solve it. Knowing that she had a problem didn't automatically solve the problem. A smoker who realizes that he has a cigarette problem doesn't suddenly stop smoking just because he understands that he has an addiction.
She only had one idea that she kept returning to over the five days after she'd come to her discovery. The only problem was that she absolutely hated the idea and what it entailed.
One way or another, she needed to talk to Blondie.
The woman snarled immediately at the very idea of coming to that annoying rodent for help. She couldn't even picture herself actually talking to man when all she wanted to do was blow a hole through his chest.
Who's to say he'd even talk to me? There's not a chance in hell that he would take a second to actually speak to me and consider both sides of my dilemma without drilling into me with a blast or punching me with his one fist.
The woman snickered at her own joke before a frown pulled at her features. Despite her complaining, despite not honestly knowing how she could achieve it, she needed his opinion on the matter. She needed someone who could somehow relate to her and her brother's position. Someone who didn't fear her, someone who had power like she and her brother did to ask, and as far as she could tell, Blondie was it.
They'd killed anyone else who could truly relate to them in any real sense of the word. That had happened years ago. Everyone that was left were weak and useless, Blondie had been the only person to ever stand up to them in any meaningful way and was still around to talk about it despite their best efforts. As far as she could tell, he was the only person she could go to to resolve this doubt plaguing her.
The only problem is how the hell do I get him to do that?
Eighteen had been laying atop her bed for days coming up with plans that could potentially lead to her answer.
As far as she could tell, none of them were good.
"Fuck!" She snapped as her hands went to the side of her face out of sheer frustration. If you were an alcoholic, there were groups that you could go to. If you were addicted to cigarettes, there were nicotine patches you could try. What did you do when you couldn't decide between having fun killing the rest of the human race or ending your fun and not killing the human race after a decade of the practice? Not only that, but the only person she could reasonably trust the opinion to help her decide quite literally wanted her and the only person she'd ever loved dead.
She doubted there were meetings for people suffering from that condition.
"You good sis?" She heard her brother call out from the other room. She could hear him still enjoying the game system the son had owned prior to his death. Eighteen was pretty sure it was a shooter based on the steady stream of recorded gunfire she could hear.
She had to admit that it sounded damn close to the real thing.
"Peachy!" She hollered back annoyed as she pushed herself off the bed and onto her feet, "I'm going out!" she yelled as she grabbed her boots and exited the room. She was tired of sitting in her room waiting for a solution to hit her. It was time to take one of her shitty plans and put it into action.
Who knows? Maybe I'll get lucky and find out that Blondie is a gullible fool.
She had to admit that her opinion of the man was low enough to believe that, but she wasn't naive enough to really consider the thought true.
"You going out to kill stuff?" she heard the game pause as he awaited a response. Whenever they went out to kill people, it was always wise to go together since recently Blondie had started to get strong enough that just one of them might struggle to put him down for the count, so whenever they went out-
"Oh wait a minute! Blondie's dead! Never mind!" Seventeen laughed before returning to his game.
Eighteen blinked.
Oh, right.
Not wanting to face his wrath or quandary about why she hadn't killed him, Eighteen had lied and told her brother that she'd vaporized the blonde nuisance the moment he'd left to get new pants.
"Just going out to shop!" Eighteen lied as she pulled on her boots. She realized then that if things went south, she would be on her own facing down Blondie. The thought unnerved her, but she was not willing to go back to her room and sit around for another week debating with herself.
She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath in before letting it out in a slow sigh. She had a plan...a bad plan but a plan nonetheless.
"Let's do this." she whispered under her breath as she shot into the air.
-Trunks-
His hands burned as the intensity of the ki blast before him licked at his face and eyes. Sweat dripped from his chin as he was driven back from the attack, his feet digging into the dry ground as he slid back. For a moment, the boy feared that the attack would overwhelm him, his arms trembled from the amount of strain being forced upon them. A deep, guttural cry forced its way out from his lips as his eyes clamped shut, his entire focus dedicating itself to resisting the golden energy threatening his very lively hood.
C'mon Trunks! You can do this!
He thought as he searched deep within himself for the energy to force the blast back. After several moments of uninterrupted exhaustion and concentration, he found it. His eyes flashed open as an orb of energy slowly began to develop from his extended palms, creating a small separation from the blast and his now aching hands.
A brief moment of relief flooded the young man as the palms of his hands finally received the alleviation they'd so desperately needed.
Stay focused! It's not over yet!
He thought to himself as he let the rest of his energy surge forward, persuading the small ball of Ki in his hands to grow larger as the intensity of the threatening blast was forced back.
A moment later, Trunks roared as he released the energy built up into a powerful attack that challenged the Ki before it in a blinding flash. Trunks breathed in ragged gasps as he stood there watching his power challenge the Ki blast, his shoulders slumped, his power completely drained.
After a few seconds of rivaling contact, his attack pushed through, annihilating the challenging beam in a bright explosion. Dust flew into the air as he stood there, barely able to maintain a standing position.
A moment later, the boy collapsed to the ground.
.
.
.
Trunks jerked awake before raising his head in a startled awareness. His alert eyes scanned all around him, before he relaxed remembering where he was. Leaning back, he sat on the hard dirt, ignoring the dust and rocks that had taken refuge in his otherwise lavender hair.
Deserted wasteland stretched for as far as the eye could see. The only structures available for miles were big rocks, massive fissures in the ground, and even more big rocks.
Trunks decided he wanted to claim a rock today.
The boy slowly lifted himself to his feet feeling somewhat refreshed from his nap.
I passed out didn't I?
Trunks frowned as he walked towards the large boulder roughly twice his height. He hadn't wanted to knock himself out today. He'd been training with a technique that Gohan had showed him weeks earlier. It was a technique the elder Demi-Saiyan implored himself, a trick he'd figured out worked well if you were training by yourself.
He would fire off a ki blast, usually as strong as he could muster, before willing it to turn back around and slam straight into him, threatening to overtake him as he did his best to muster enough power to force it back. Simple in design, but the training was intense.
It forced Trunks to practice so many different aspects of battle that he was impressed that such a simple exercise could do so much. First, it forced him to practice expanding his energy into one massive attack, a skill essential for victory. Next, it had him practice his energy manipulation as he had to will it to redirect itself which was trickier the more energy you put into the attack. Lastly, it forced him to focus under intense situations as the blast collided with him, forcing him to divide his concentration between resisting the energy blast and forming his own to eventually push it back.
Trunk slumped against the side of the rock using its shade as a welcomed relief from the hot sun setting over the horizon. After he'd ended his visit with Gohan, he'd immediately gone back out to train. Training had been consuming all of the young man's time over the past several days.
Trunks didn't particularly like training, especially training alone, but every time he thought about quitting and taking a rest, his mind raced back to a few days ago, to the image of Gohan lying there on the broken asphalt, his body bruised and burned. He remembered watching Gohan's critical condition as the man fought to stay alive with each raggad, strained breath. Trunks had honed in on the noise as he picked him up as delicately as he could and raced to get back to his mom in time. Every time the Demi-Saiyan exhaled, Trunks remembered his body trembling in fear that he'd just listened to his friend's last breath.
Trunks remembered the swell of fear that had bubbled up in his chest in those moments. The nerve racking sensation that had fueled his entire flight home. He'd kicked the door down when he'd finally arrived at the house, not willing to spend the precious seconds it would take to unlock and open the door the normal way. He'd known that his mom would likely chew him out for that, but in the moment he hadn't cared.
He'd hated it, the fear, the nervousness, the anxiety and most of all the shame.
It's my fault,
He thought to himself.
It's my fault it happened.
How could it not be his fault? Had he been stronger, Gohan would have brought him along. Had he been stronger, Gohan would trust him to aid him in his fight against the Androids. Had he been stronger, Gohan wouldn't be lying in bed right now recovering from yet another series of life threatening wounds that would scar his body forever.
Had I been stronger, this nightmare would be over right now.
But he wasn't stronger, right now, he was still weak.
All because he couldn't go Super Saiyan.
His fingers curled into fists as he scowled. Pushing himself to his feet, the boy prepared himself to attempt the transformation yet again. He'd been trying every day now, pushing his body to his absolute limit before trying to break through that invisible wall that separates him from saving the world.
Growling, the teen closed his eyes as he began to focus.
This time. This time for sure.
He told himself as the air began to swirl around him. A powerful white aura enveloped him before slowly expanding as his power continued to grow.
Gohan's words repeated over and over in his mind as he began to focus, letting the world around him fade away to obscurity.
Concentrating, the boy blocked out every other sense until there was nothing left but he, and his mentor's instructions.
"Imagine all the lives that the Androids have taken!"
His mind filled with the countless bodies he'd found in the aftermath of the Androids rampage. He'd seen so much of it. He'd seen so many bodies. So many times would he be digging through the rubble desperately trying to save the people who'd been trapped within the building moments before its collapsed. Then he'd reach them, only to realize he'd been too late.
It was jarring to see a corpse, the figure of a person and know that the soul that had once inhabited that body was no more. It was a concept he was all too familiar with now.
Death.
He'd seen so much of it.
And it was never ending.
"Imagine your mother at the mercy of the Androids!"
The boy grimaced as his mind shifted to a different scene. He could see his mother, Bulma lying dead at the feet of those monsters. He could imagine it, them taking from him what they'd already taken from so many others. He imagined that if the world was like him, a Saiyan, or at least half of one, so many others would have already risen up and stopped these abominations. Just picturing his mother dead, the woman who fed him, who cheered him up when he was feeling down, who nurtured and loved him could perish to the Androids was enough to form tears at the corners of his eyes. It pained him to even think of it, and knowing that image in his head could come true tomorrow, that it could become his reality, that it was becoming thousands of peoples reality every day was more than the boy could take.
A violent, primal roar exploded from the young Demi-Saiyan's mouth as he felt himself begin to slip. He could feel it now, a tingling sensation that was slowly attempting to spread across his entire body. He could feel his hair beginning to lift from his scalp, raising towards the sky just as Gohan's did when he transformed.
Trunks tightened his focus as he felt the transformation take hold. He had to get this right this time, or even more people would suffer the reality that kept him up at night. No one should have to suffer the loss of someone so precious, someone so essential to their life.
And yet it happened every time the Androids struck.
And he could stop it.
If he succeeded, right here, right now, then he could stop the endless suffering. He and Gohan could finally put an end to the madness. All he had to do was transform!
Please!
He pleaded, tears running down his cheeks.
Please let me transform! Please let me end this! I want it more than anything! I want to become more! I want to become the person that the world needs from me!
His mind moved on. As he felt himself bordering on the brink of ascension, he replayed that last piece of Gohan's message to try and inspire him to transform.
"Imagine that if you don't step up right here, right now and become a Super Saiyan, then everyone you know and love is going to die!"
The teen didn't have to imagine it. It was his reality. Trunk knew that if he didn't transform, if he didn't ascend to the legend that was the Super Saiyan, that it was only a matter of time until they found him and his mom. They'd already wiped out so many settlements to the point that only four remained, and only recently South City had fallen victim to the same treatment. He and his mom had gotten lucky so far, but eventually, that luck would run out. Eventually, be it happen chance or the Androids deciding to hunt him down, they would find him and his mother.
When that day came, if he wasn't a Super Saiyan, they would slaughter his mom, and then himself.
He couldn't let that happen.
The roar that raged out of Trunks's mouth was deeper and more sincere than it had ever been. His mind flashed with the image of Gohan, lying defeated and bloodied on the ground before him, knocking on death's door. They'd nearly taken him away from the boy too.
All because I'm too weak!
He felt like he was surrounded by flames as he stood there, his entire body tense, blood dripping from his fists from his nails digging into his palms, but he didn't care. It felt good to hurt at that moment, because it was only a fraction of all the suffering the world was forced to endure every waking hour.
All the fear, all the anguish, all the pain. He could stop it, he Trunks Briefs could put an end to it all!
If I. just. Transform!
He wanted it more than anything else. He could feel it, the aura, the strength, the power, it was all just at his fingertips, he'd never been closer in his life when-
His mind went white as his knees buckled. The teen's concentration evaporated as he crumpled to the ground on his hands and knees. His body trembled, exhausted from the effort. Tears continued to race down his cheeks as he began to process what just happened.
"...no…" Trunks stared at the ground in disbelief. He stared at his hand, it had no glow to it. There was no Super Saiyan aura surrounding him.
"NO!" He bellowed as he slammed fist after fist into the ground. He'd been denied again. Taunted with it's power again. He'd been so close! So close to ending the nightmare! Only for it to be thrown back into his face, reminding him yet again that he wasn't good enough.
I'm so pathetic. I'm so weak!
The young man told himself as he shut his eyes, unable to stop the tears from running down his face. He didn't want the power for himself, he didn't want to become the strongest there ever was, he just wanted to become strong enough so that he could help. It was all he ever wanted to do. He only ever wanted to help. To be...something, anything that could help the people of the world.
...I'm a failure.
He felt like a failure. A failure to his mom, to Gohan, to all the people that the Androids had already claimed and all the people that they would in the future. He was their hope, and he'd failed them…again.
His senses expanded to stretch out and feel the world around him. He could sense all of their life energies. He could sense Gohan asleep in his bed, he could sense Bulma working on one of her many projects, he could sense everyone else that didn't know it yet, but should be disappointed in him.
"...I'm sorry…" he quietly whispered as he rose to his feet. His shoulders slumped as he began to raise into the sky. He was done for today.
I'll try again tomorrow. I can't give up. No matter what I can't give up.
He'd be back there again tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that. He would return, he would get stronger, he would improve until eventually he grew strong enough to achieve the form, to become the legendary Super-
The boy's head snapped up as he felt something. Turning, he focused his senses, recollecting himself so that he could be certain that what he'd just felt had been real.
That direction, North City. two hundred energy signatures just...disappeared!
But they hadn't 'disappeared'. The boy knew that much. They'd been snuffed out, extinguished, and he knew the culprit.
Gritting his teeth the boy thought,
Already!? The Androids are attacking already!? It's hardly been a week!
Trunks snarled in the direction he'd felt the attack. They were helpless down there! He knew Gohan wouldn't be healthy enough to fight for at least another couple of days until Yajirobe could finish with the next batch of Senzu beans. Until then...there was no one to stop the Androids.
...unless…
Trunks began to consider his options. Filled with anger and hate he could only see the looks of terror on the women and children's faces as they helplessly fled from the Androids. The sounds of screams being cut short as Seventeen and Eighteen snuffed out life after life.
He knew what Gohan would say. He knew that he would tell him that he wasn't ready, and deep down the boy knew it to be true. He knew he wasn't ready. He knew that if he showed up without being able to go Super Saiyan, it would be a death sentence.
He hadn't even noticed he'd been flying in the direction of North City until he paused in realization.
What if this is it? What if this could send me over the edge?
It was a risky idea. It was a foolish idea at best and likely one he had to admit was being fueled by his rage, but he didn't care. He'd just gotten closer to transforming than he'd ever been. Gohan had always described the transformation as a combination of two things, rage, and need. Gohan had told him that he'd only transformed after watching all of his friends die around him, before that Goku had transformed only after Frieza had blown up his best friend. They'd both needed to transform then, to try and stop the monster that had wronged them past their breaking point.
They all had that moment, that moment when there was nothing else they could to but become the legend...I need that moment...I need that final push!
Without another doubt the boy took off in the direction of North City. He knew he had the rage, he had it in handfuls. In that moment, all he could see holding him back was a need for that power. If he put himself in a situation where if he didn't transform everyone including himself was going to die, he'd have to transform!
...right?
The boy didn't have any time to doubt himself as he pushed to his top speed flying towards where he knew the Androids to be.
This ends now!
He grit his teeth.
It has to.
-Eighteen-
That should do it.
She thought lazily to herself as she sat bored across from the building she'd just leveled. It'd been around five or 6 floors tall, she guessed that would be enough people for Blondie to notice her. She'd never understood how, but no matter where she and her brother would attack, if their kill count got too high Blondie would show up. They'd gotten it down to a science at one point.
One hundred seems to be the magic number…
She idly thought to herself as she sat atop the ledge of the eight story building looking down at all the terrified faces below. She could hear people screaming and crying as they tried their best to process what just happened.
You'd think they'd get used to it by now.
She quietly thought to herself. It had been over ten years now, you'd think that they'd start to get used to people dying like how her brother and she had. But nope, every time without fail they'd scream and cry and run like that would somehow deter her and her brother from killing them. If anything the annoying noise only encouraged them to end their miserable lives.
The woman growled in annoyance as she listened to their cries of terror. It was taking everything she had not to blow them all away with a sweep of her hand. That would be all it took too. She could just form a simple beam in her hand, making a sweeping motion and-
Eighteen shook her head as she rid herself of the thought.
No, no, I need him not to attack me when he gets here. If I start killing left and right, there's no way he won't be at my throat.
Well, there was that reason, and the fact that killing the people in the building…
It hadn't been fun.
Just like the man in the rubble a week ago, it hadn't been as satisfying as it'd been two weeks prior. Sure, she could do it without batting an eye, she felt no guilt for slaughtering such helpless prey, but it'd lost its luster ever since she'd spoken to that man in the sports shop. It was as if she were flying to a mountain top without reason, without motivation. Sure, she could do it, she could do it easily in fact...but that didn't mean that it was enjoyable.
The woman sighed with a frown.
Enough of that crap, Blondie will be here any minute.
Her head turned all around her expectantly, hoping enough time had gone by for him to show up.
He hadn't.
The woman sighed once more as she pulled a knee up to her chest, letting the other leg dangly precariously off the edge. She was wearing some simple tights and a T-shirt now. She hadn't really wanted to dress up for a man she despised.
She'd strategically chosen to land in the dead center of the city. She knew that Blondie valued these human lives for some Kami-forsaken reason. She'd also decided to have this meeting at sunset so that if things did go south, she could use the darkness to get away. That was probably what annoyed her the most about Blondie. He was strong, nearly as strong as her she figured at this point, and yet he wasted his time protecting these vermin instead of enjoying himself like she was. Honestly, if he'd just come up and told them he wanted in on the action, they'd have let him.
...I think…maybe...probably not.
Well at the very least it would have been preferable to having to deal with him fighting them all the time. It annoyed her to no end that even one person existed that still managed to challenge them on a regular basis.
...a challenge that you let live just the other day…
Eighteen sighed as she rested her chin on her knee. She still hadn't forgiven herself for letting that nuisance go. Hell, she still hadn't forgiven herself for letting a human of all things get in her head-
Eighteen closed her eyes as she disrupted the train of thought. She did not want to get into that again.
Opening her eyes again, the woman noticed out of the corner of her eye a distinct yellow light heading straight towards her. Raising an eyebrow, the woman lifted an open palm before catching the energy blast previously aimed towards her face.
She felt the golden energy drive into her hand for several seconds before she closed her fist around it, extinguishing it in a flash of light.
That was certainly weaker than what I'm used to from Blondie…
Eighteen shifted her eyes in the direction the ki blast had come from before her eyes widened.
It wasn't Blondie.
It was his sidekick
Son of a bitch! Why the hell are you even here!?
She thought as her face contorted into a nasty snarl.
"I'm going to make you pay for all the lives you've taken!" the young man exclaimed as he took a fighters pose. It resembled Blondies in many ways.
Yeah, sure you are kid.
She thought dryly as she shouted back, "Where's Batman Robin? Trust me when I say that you really don't want to mess with me right now. But tell you what-" She smiled trying to appear as friendly as possible. It was harder than she'd expected.
"If you manage to point me in the direction of the man in orange I might just spare your pathetic excuse for a life!"
She watched as the boy sunk deeper into his stance. It was clear to her that her words had fallen on deaf ears.
Maybe shouldn't have used the term 'pathetic' there…
The woman sighed as she casually rose to her feet. Her gaze turned sinister as she stared down the lavender haired teen, "Last chance kid. Tell me where he is before I beat your face in so bad they won't be able to identify the body."
The boy snarled before spitting back, "The only thing that's going to beaten today is you you bitch!"
"..."
Eighteen closed her eyes as she took a deep breath in, and then out. Her patience was gone. She knew that this kid for some reason meant something to Blondie. She'd figured that out by the way he'd ran away clutching him to his chest the first time she'd beaten the boy unconscious. She knew that if she killed this kid it would mean that a conversation of any type was impossible with Blondie. But at that moment, she was having a really tough time caring.
Alright kid, you want to play hero? You want to pretend you're strong like your Blond friend is? Fine then. Maybe I'll just have to rip one of your arms off and beat you with it! At least then the two of you will match!
Without another comment she rushed towards the boy.
-Trunks-
Power erupted from the young man as he pushed every ounce of strength he could muster to the challenge. He knew that he couldn't start out small, not against this opponent. He needed everything if he wanted even a chance against a fiend like this.
He watched as the woman, blond, pretty, unassuming, slowly rose to her feet like any other person would. She stared at him, with eyes that were not unlike the people below them. But the look she gave him, the stare.
The teen felt a shiver run down his spine. That was a look of a murderer, the stare of someone who'd seen the deepest torments a human body could take,
And smiled at their work.
The boy blinked, and suddenly the woman had disappeared. A moment later, he felt an explosion of pain erupt across the side of his face. The force of the kick sent the young man hurtling towards a two story structure just to his left. The cement wall proved no match for his momentum as he barreled through one, and then two walls before he eventually came to a stop resting upon hard rubble and broken glass.
His mind was spinning as he lay there. For a moment, he couldn't tell where he was anymore, or how he got there. Sitting up, he could feel cuts littering his body and a slow dribble of blood slowly running down the side of his face which was beginning to numb from the damaged nerve endings. His mind recollected itself a moment later as he remembered what he was doing here.
"...damn...it." he swore under his breath as he picked himself up and to his feet. He gritted his teeth as he realized that had been the hardest he'd ever been hit in his entire life.
He could feel rage begin to bubble to the surface. Rage over being so weak so powerless in the face of such a monster.
That's it, that's the feeling.
The boy grinned to himself, reassurance flooding his system. He'd been right, he was going to transform into a Super Saiyan, he could feel it, he could almost taste it.
"You still alive in there Robin?" he heard Eighteen's mocking voice call out towards where his body had left a hole in the wall.
Seeing her figure appear hovering near the newly formed hole he growled, "Yeah...I'm still alive…" he mumbled under his breath as he began to push his power to the palms of his hands. Shoving his hands forward, he roared, "Wanna find out!?"
A sonic boom echoed down the streets as a torrent of golden energy streamed out of the boy's palms completely engulfing the Android standing several meters away.
The teen snarled as he saw the energy overtake her, even without sensing her energy, he knew it hadn't been enough.
No, I know you're still in there you bitch!
Releasing his concentration, he shot forward, pulling back an arm as he closed in. Just as he'd suspected, he saw the Eighteen appear exactly where she'd been before, a glimmering energy shield surrounding her as she yawned with arms crossed.
His fist connected with the energy shield a second later. His fist hurt from the impact before he drove a knee and then a roundhouse kick straight into the force field.
"Having trouble there? Here, let me help." Eighteen commented dryly before the force field dissipated. Trunks roared as he drove a punch meant for the Androids face only for it to be caught inches away from her nose.
"Was this for me?" She asked snidely as Trunks struggled to pull his arm away, "Aww, thanks, although you should know…" Trunks began to feel the grip on his fist tighten, "I have a bad habit of breaking my gifts."
The teen suddenly felt his hand begin to crumple into itself as the Android's grip tightened. He could hear the sickening pops of joints folding in on themselves as he let out a scream of complete agony.
No, no, no, NO!
He thought in a panic, his eyes wide with fear. Blood began to spill from his broken hand as he could feel bone begin to tear through the skin of his fist before he began to think clearer and think of a way out of this. Pulling back his other hand, he formed as much energy as he could muster in a short time before burying it straight into Eighteen's face, her eyes too focused on his hand to notice in time.
The resulting explosion had been painful to say the least, but it also had the desired effect. He felt the hand on his fist release as he was blasted away. Slowing to a stop, the boy stared down stunned at his now ruined hand. It hardly resembled a hand at all now, more just a mess of red and skin.
"Ouchy, that looks really bad."
Looking up, he saw Eighteen slowly lowering herself so that she was at level with him, a snide smile pulling at her lips. Her face was unmarked, her hair ruffled, but otherwise untouched from his blast.
Trunks did his best to suppress the rising fear in the pit of his stomach. The urge to flee, to hide, to save himself from this bastardization of humanity found itself planted firmly in his mind.
No!
He told himself as he found the resolve to fight return once more.
This is the only way! I need to fight the Androids or I'll-
He paused as he realized something.
"...Where's Seventeen?"
Eighteen scoffed as she stood there, "Really? You're hand looks like it just made sweet love to a blender, and that's what you're thinking about right now?"
Trunks scowled as he slowly began to position his damaged right hand behind him, bringing up his left in a defensive pose. As much as it pained him to admit it, she was right. He didn't know where Seventeen had disappeared to, but right now it was all he could do to face just one Android...maybe he was off terrorizing another part of the city...
Focus Trunks! Don't let that rage go! Keeping fighting! Remember why you're here!
The teen stole a glance at the scene down below. People were running for their lives, screaming in terror in the realization that the Androids were here. Others were digging through the broken remains of what had once been an apartment building. He could hear the sound of pained crying as the survivors of Eighteen's initial attack rummaged through the debri searching desperately for their loved once.
You are their hope! Their possibility at revenge! You need to become more! You need to fight!
His eyes narrowed as he adjusted his stance, leading with his left hand as he let his right hang in the back, figuring it wouldn't be helpful for the rest of the fight.
"Ah, there we go, now you're finally starting to resemble Blondie a little bit." Eighteen commented mockingly as she raised a hand to her chin, cupping it. She pretended to study the young man for a moment longer before raising a finger, "But you know, Blondie sure has a hell of a lot more scars than you do…" a dark smile spread across her features, "But I think I can help with that."
With that, the Android launched herself towards the boy.
Knowing that he would be too slow to react to his opponent Trunks shot straight up, hoping that she'd chosen to attack him from one of the sides.
His gamble paid off as he saw the woman appear where his right side would be before lashing out with an open palm strike, just barely missing him as he moved away.
Responding immediately, Trunks dived down before driving the heel of his shoe directly into the Android's cheek. He watched with satisfaction as her head snapped to the side, a grimace written across her features from the force of the blow. He felt pride in himself in that moment. It seemed to him that the rage in his system, the frustration and sorrow, it was all fueling him to become stronger!
I'm transforming!
He told himself.
It'll only be a matter of time now!
Intent to press his advantage, the teen kicked off the Android's face, spinning as he swung his other leg straight towards her forehead. Just as the attack came inches away from contact, it was suddenly halted, a slender, feminine hand clutching his shin tightly.
He could see Eighteen's malicious gaze staring him down, a scowl consuming her features.
"You just messed up big time kid." she snarled. A moment later the teen was sent hurtling to the ground. The boy cried out in pain as he felt jagged bits of cement, brick, and wood dig into his back from the impact. He could hear the screams of people who'd previously been looking for their lost loved ones all around him as he struck.
The attack had added to the long list of scrapes and cuts that now littered his body. He winced as he tried to pull himself up to a sitting position, slowly rising until he was able to pull some of the debris that had fallen atop him away from his beaten body. Looking down at his remaining hand, he could see that he was trembling.
...n-no...Gohan told me, this is exactly how he transformed! We're the same! He and I! We're both half Saiyans! So I...I…
His thoughts trailed off as he looked up to see the confident form of Android Eighteen slowly descending on him. Her arms were crossed, a sinister smile playing off her lips.
The young half-Saiyan tried to rally the remainders of his energy, but in that moment he knew it wouldn't be enough. No matter how much he tried to will it, he couldn't bring himself to raise a fist or form another Ki blast. The power, the power he'd felt before, wasn't coming. Right now, all that was in the way of him, and the Android, was his own ability, his own power.
And it wasn't enough.
I...I'm not gonna transform...am I?
Tears began to form at the corners of his eyes as his mouth fell open in terror. The realization hit him at the same time the fear set in.
I'm… I'm going to die? Now? Here? N-no!
He watched as the woman's shoes touched down on the rubble a mere foot away from where his legs were positioned. His eyes were wide with terror as he watched her
"What's wrong Robin? Realizing how much you've messed up?" She said with a malicious grin.
P-please, I-I need t-to transform now!
He begged to no one as he tried to will the transformation. Rapidly he ran through what he'd been told by Gohan to try and transform.
"Imagine all the lives that the Androids have taken!"
He was laying in a pile of rubble, the Androids victims all around him as he stared up at the perpetrator. No matter how much he wanted that fact to enrage him, he couldn't stop his shoulders from trembling.
"Imagine your mother at the mercy of the Androids!"
He could. He could see it now, this woman, this figure standing above his mother as she groveled in the same way he was at Eighteen's feet. He'd pictured it so many times, and so many times he imagined himself transforming a moment later to combat the Androids. That was the usual way this exercise went, but as he sat there on the ground, beaten and bleeding, he couldn't envision himself rising to the challenge. As the scene played out in his head, he saw himself cowering with his mother, helpless to stop Android Eighteen as she raised a single hand to wash away everything he'd ever known or cared about.
"Imagine that if you don't step up right here, right now and become a Super Saiyan, then everyone you know and love is going to die!"
Everything, everyone…is going to die.
That was the only thing he could think as he stared into the eyes of what had to be the devil incarnate. The rage, the primal feeling to attack, and protect, it was all gone. In its place was a fear that had always been there, festering, waiting for its chance to rise and claim his mind. He knew then that he couldn't win, that he wouldn't become a Super Saiyan in time.
T-this...this was a mistake.
He knew it to be true. Gohan had believed in him. Gohan had told him that the two of them were the same. But he knew right then, right there that they were not the same. They were both half-Saiyans, that much was true, but staring up at this unstoppable force, Trunks knew that he would never be like Gohan. Gohan fought the Androids by himself when the boy had been half of the teenager's age, and he'd transformed into a Super Saiyan by that time. Trunks had been trying for the better part of a year now with no success despite living in the same world Gohan had been in when he transformed. Gohan was brave, braver than his strength was strong. He didn't care if he was weaker, or if he was destined to fall. He still fought regardless of the outcome. He fought for what was right, and that was all that mattered. His fear couldn't hope to stand up to his resolve to save what needed saving.
...and that's not me…
Trunks thought to himself. He was a coward compared to the elder Saiyan. He'd been lying to himself, telling himself that he deserved the transformation because the world needed him to transform. But that didn't mean that he was worthy. He hadn't come to fight with the mentality that he would lose. He wasn't the lesser of two forces fighting for what was right despite the odds.
He'd expected to transform. In the back of his mind, he'd fully believed that he was going to achieve the transformation and even the odds. He'd felt so certain about the transformation that he'd thrown all caution to the wind. It'd been a near certainty to him. He'd gone into the fight believing that he would succeed, he had to, otherwise the Earth was doomed!
But that's not enough…
He thought to himself as Android Eighteen pulled back her foot, readying her heel to drive into his skull.
I'm a coward. I don't deserve to transform...I never did.
He watched with crushed spirits as the foot came down on him.
Then his world went dark.
-Eighteen-
Well this was a total bust.
She thought to herself as she stepped on the unconscious boy's head, standing idly as she began to chew on her bottom lip in thought.
Now there's not a chance that Blondie won't attack me on sight...if he ever shows up!
She scowled looking up into the sky, half expecting to see the golden annoyance floating just above her.
Nothing.
For a moment she questioned why sidekick had showed up instead of Blondie. It was odd to see him without the other. Of course there was the fact that she and her brother had beaten him to near death only a week prior, but that was a regular occurrence in their lives. Could count several times when she and Seventeen would beat Blondie within an inch of his life, and then return the next day to wreak havoc only to have Blondie show up again, perfectly healed aside from a few new scars here and there. She didn't have a single clue how this was possible, but she'd been banking on today being one of those strange occasions.
She sighed as she looked down at the boy. She wanted to blame him for her plan not working out, but in the back of her mind she knew that this was never going to work. It had too many flaws, too many rough patches to be a viable strategy. She'd mostly only done it to get her out of the house. She'd been done with letting her doubt get to her.
That didn't stop her from digging the heel of her shoe into his face though, twisting as she snarled.
"Little shit, you messed up my hair." she cursed under her breath as she pulled back a strand of hair that was hanging out of place.
She relaxed her shoulders once she did this, satisfied that she'd fixed it mostly. She started to think of what she should do now? Proceed with the plan and see if Blondie showed up, or bail and try one of her many other terrible plans.
She sighed as she buried her face in a palm, dragging the hand down slowly as she growled.
This plan was stupid. Even if he did show up and didn't try to blast me on sight, it's not like our conversation would actually get me anywhere. If he did say anything at all, I bet he would just take jabs at me to try and provoke me into attacking him, or stepping away from the boy, probably both.
Eighteen paused as an idea crossed her mind. Looking down at where her foot was currently bruising the young man's cheek, she began to study him meticulously.
What if I took him? Kidnapped him and told Blondie that if he wanted the little twerp, we had to have a talk about things…
She gave the idea some time to play out in her head, before she immediately scowled dismissing it.
That's even more stupid than this idea is! It's not like I could just tie up this guy and leave him in a broom closet! The kid can break through walls! And It's not like I can just sit around babysitting him! Then I couldn't go out and find Blondie! Seventeen babysitting him is out the question! He'd just kill the kid and be over with it, or question why I'm doing all this in the first place, which I do not want to have to explain!
The woman growled as she slowly lowered herself into a crouch holding the sides of her face in frustration.
Her mind raced through another dozen or so ideas, all of them eventually being tossed away for one reason or another.
I could have him beaten bloody and then question him.
You might not be able to beat him on your own, and if Seventeen finds out that he's alive then he'll have questions. Plus Blondie wouldn't talk to you even when beaten bloody.
I could lie to him and tell him I'm 'turning a new leaf' or something like that. That might get him to pause and talk to me.
But then he'll just tell you everything you need to hear to believe that. He wants what all the humans want, for you to stop. He's biased.
I could…
The woman grumbled to herself as she ran out of ideas to try. No matter what she did, no matter what she could think of, the problem lied within herself. Her methods, they didn't work on Blondie. She could strike fear into any man on Earth, threaten, and beat anyone into submission, except for Blondie. No matter what she thought of, she couldn't think of a way to subdue him, to make him submit to her will.
...That's the entire point Eighteen.
She told herself annoyed. The entire point was that he didn't fear her, that he could see past her intimidating presence. He could stare into her eyes like his sidekick had, and not quiver in terror.
So...if she couldn't use her typical methods to get what she wanted...then maybe…
Then maybe I need to think like a person that isn't me.
She raised a hand to cup her chin as she adopted a contemplative look. There were still people nearby whimpering in terror as they drug their broken bodies out of the wreckage and did their best to get away.
She did her best to ignore their cries of pain and focus on this new train of thought.
Maybe, if I open myself to thinking like…
She grimaced.
Like one of these weaklings...I might get an idea that bears fruit…
Her eyes snapped open as a new idea flooded her mind. A sinister smile pulled at the corners of her lips.
If Blondie won't talk to Android Eighteen...then let's make sure that the next time he sees me, I'm not Android Eighteen.
The woman began to slowly rise from her foot place on the boy's face as she began to feel a swell of new confidence rush her. She knew what she had to do now. It was perfect.
She prepared to take off before pausing. Blinking, she looked back down at the pile of broken sidekick just below.
Oh right, almost forgot.
Raising her hand she prepared to blast away the remains of the annoying sidekick to the equally annoying 'hero'.
But her mind still in a critical sense of planning, made her reconsider.
If I kill this kid then Blondie will probably be grieving like all these weaklings do when they lose someone important to them. Like any of them are actually important, pfft.
The woman slowly lowered her arm back to her side. She wouldn't kill him, not yet. For the sake of her new plan, she didn't want to have to deal with Blondie grieving over this little twerp. It would complicate things to a point that she was definitely not wanting to deal with. Plus, it wasn't as if this little twerp could actually do anything to her. He'd been far too weak to do anything but annoy her in their fight against one another. If he became a problem in the future, she'd kill him then, that worked for her plenty.
"It's your lucky day Robin, looks like Batman isn't going to have to look for a replacement, impressionable, adolescent boy for his new sidekick afterall. Have fun with that broken hand." she waved a mocking 'goodbye' before shooting off into the sky, her sudden movement causing a cascade of screams from people assuming she was going after them next.
A dark smile graced her face as she spoke, "Can't wait until the next time I see you Blondie, or should I say, the next time I meet you again?"
A dark laugh echoed from her lips as she flew away from North city.
Author's Notes:
OOF was that a doozy huh? My sincerest appreciations to those of you who've decided to stick with this fic and see where it goes. It means alot to have any amount of support towards the story. Your reviews mean a lot to me, no matter if it's negative or positive feedback(Although the majority of the feedback has been positive). The fact that you take the time at all to even write two sentences in the form of support or whatever towards me after I've sunk literal hours into each and every one of these chapters...it means more than you'd think it would.
So please, if you want to see this story flourish and update more regularly, consider writing even the briefest of reviews. They make my day every time and make me want to write more and more too. I even respond to each and every review via PM! So if you have a question or simply want to talk to the brilliant mind behind this obvious work of art (#sohumble #Noshame #maybe-a-little-shame).
What's interesting is writing this story is actually helping me through my own emotional problems. Working through Gohan's dilemma actually made me reflect on my life and the things I need to do to get past a lot of the bullshit. Funny that huh? Also what did you think of how I mirrored Android Eighteen and Gohan's internal dilemmas? I thought It was pretty clever of me :).
(#sohumble-once-more)
Anyway, I suppose that's all I have to really say about this chapter. I feel like the majority was pretty self explanatory, so I don't think I'll go about explaining any of the scenes as I did with the last chapter. However, for those of you looking for a challenge, I want people to tell me what they thought of the dream the chapter opened with. What was being told in that scene? It might surprise you how varied you answers might turn out (I can think of three different interpretations already!) :).
I'll close out this AN before I ramble for too long. Please know that the next chapter is already planned out and just waiting to be written! So be excited!
The amazing cover art of this story was designed and completed by the wonderful:Upstart Psycho! If you'd like to check out their instagram where you can see all their other amazing work, please look them up saintswakeart. They appreciated the story enough that they wanted to add their touch to the tale, and I absolutely love it! Their commissions are currently open, so hit them up using the previously mentioned tags if you want more incredible artwork!
Until next time!