AN: The following chapter is brought to you by "I am so sick of re-reading this chapter that there is zero editing going into for now", and viewers like you. Thank you!

29

Bulma's car screeched to a halt alongside the curb, inches from introducing it's fender to the next car's bumper. She had specifically chosen a vehicle with actual tires that day just so she could make an entrance like that, since she really didn't want anybody thinking she'd grown soft in her motherhood.

"Alright, one of you grab the bag and let's go."

Trunks reached behind the back seats and into the open cargo area to grab the large tote with their collection of snacks as Trunks swept the action figures they'd been competing with into their own little traveling case which was then stored beneath the seat. The three got out and the car was promptly capsulized and pocketed by the Capsule Corp. president as she strode towards the main gate with both versions of her son trailing close behind her.

They drew their fair share of looks and more than a couple of people quietly asked someone nearby if she was who they thought she was, but the buzz she'd expected to cause with her appearance was really no more than a murmur.

'I guess the attendance really is going to put a crimp on things' Bulma mused as she paid for their entrance with a casual flick of her card. The man who facilitated the transaction moved the electronic reader to the side and hand wrote a receipt for her. It seemed like a lot of the magic from tournaments past was gone in this modern city and age.

"If you have any outside food or beverage items I'll have to ask that you leave them outside of the arena."

"Sure thing." Without even a second look she was walking through the archway that lead into the eastern seating area. The man took note of the very obvious bag of food the older Trunks was carrying, thought about objecting, then reconsidered when her name in the newspaper appeared in his mind next to a picture of the tournament. He had better things to worry about today.

The three Briefs made their way into the enormous courtyard that contained the arena and all the seats for spectators. The arena was larger than it had been on Papaya Island, and so too was everything else around it. When it had been moved to the city it had still been a hot commodity, after all. But it was of note that spectators could actually use a walkway that went partially underneath the vacant Champion's booth to cross over between the north and south sides of the seats because it became quickly apparent that the Son family and the other non-participants had gone to the other side.

The three now walked a little faster as the announcer started the opening speech, his voice almost painful when they had to pass in front of a set of speakers set into the side of the Champion's building. There weren't too many people they had to squeeze past so they made it to the others in short order. "Hey, you guys!"

Goten sprang to his feet and ran to his best friend, chattering a mile a minute while his mother stood and gave Bulma a hug. The benched fighters greeted Future Trunks warmly, not having seen him since Sel despite his number of visits to their time.

"I'm so sorry, kid," Bulma crouched down to talk to Goten after getting the rundown. "I'd heard about the rule changes and I didn't even think to check to see if you guys had."

"It's alright," Goku's doppelganger stated, eyes a bit watery anyway. "I'm just glad I get to watch Gohan and Dad fight!" Bulma gave her honorary nephew a hug and slipped him a package of candy all for himself.

Tien and Trunks were talking as the later set down his bag and handed out water bottles unprompted. "Yeah, Mom said that I'd need an ID and I just figured getting one would be a pretty big hassle since I'm supposed to be nine years old right now."

"But you were going to compete?"

"Yeah, even if I only learned about it the other day, but I'll settle for a little spar later. How about you and I go a couple of rounds?" Maybe Trunks was joking, but Tien's smile was dangerously serious.

"You're on. I wanted to give Goku another run for the championship, but fighting you will be just as good. You can even use your sword if you brought it."

Trunks paused, wondering if he'd just accidentally become Tien's new rival, and Krillin stepped in to thankfully change the topic.

"So I realize the answer is a bit obvious, but everything went alright with your timeline's androids? And your Sel?"

Trunks took a moment before responding. "Yes, yeah, it went just fine. Sel too, though she was still in her first form so I didn't have any issue. It's actually been a few years for me since then. My world is really starting to pull itself together again; it's wonderful."

Krillin clapped him on the shoulder proudly. "You the man, Trunks! Has anything else happened in your timeline? I mean, we got Broly just a bit after you left, and I don't know if he'd still be alive over there, too, not to mention all the other things in space that could be a problem."

"Nothing's really come up. There was a bit of a scare with three new androids being found, but they were completely dormant and were dismantled. If something happens while I'm gone, there's actually somebody to keep the Earth safe until I get back. Which reminds me, I didn't get to talk to you last night. What were you doing in space all this time?"

"Oh, you know," Krillin shrugged as he ran a hand through his hair, "rediscovering myself, making some friends and enemies, seeing the sights. I'll tell everyone all about it later. Actually, I've got quite the surprise for you in particular!"

"Me? What could you have found that had to do with me?"

Krillin chuckled and grinned ruefully. "You'll just have to wait and find out, but I suspect it'll be something you will be very interested in looking into in your time."

"That's not fair, Krillin, we've got a couple of hours to talk so just tell me now."

"I'd, uhhh, rather tell you all at the same time, so I don't have to keep repeating it over and over again." Krillin became very interested in observing the tournament goers as they started to draw lots. Trunks stared intesnly at the smaller man.

"You just want to make it a dramatic reveal, don't you?"

Krillin chuckled a bit weakly. "Ehhh, maybe? Look, come on, their about to get started with the first match. I'll tell you all about it later with the others."

Trunks narrowed his eyes at the evasion, but decided to let it pass. He remembered that Krillin was a bit theatrics-prone when it came to announcements, and he had been in space for the better part of a decade, so a bit of indulgence might do him good. But he also absolutely would be hearing whatever was so important that Krillin had singled him out.

They all sat down to watch the coming fights, smuggled drinks and snacks in hand. Trunks offered the opened box of candies to Krillin who nodded his head appreciatively and took a pinch of the little gummies and chowed down. He made it a second before his head and neck jerked forward reflexively and his face scrunched up fiercly.

"Gah! Ugh! Trunks, you heartless saiyan! How could you possibly eat something so sour!? I see you smirking! You're more like your father than I thought!"

Trunks answered only by nodding a little and eating one of his candies without a hint of a reaction.

"AAAALRIGHT contestants! Please come forward as your name is called and we shall begin drawing numbers to determine your positioning!"

It was a godsend that there were an even and divisible number of contestants this year like there usually was or else they might have had to double-book someone and that would hardly have made them look fair and impartial.

The first several men called weren't part of the group and mostly got numbers that would put them in the second half of the brackets, but Chioutzou got called up and drew the number twelve position. He took a moment while his hand was in the glazed ceramic jug to get a psychic feel for all of the little stones etched with numerals and determined which ones would be closest at hand for everyone else.

Several more people got their numbers before it was Gohan's turn. He'd already walked up behind the last person and was reaching inside the vessel hardly before the rather husky man could hardly return to the crowd. The half-saiyan was given the ninth position, putting him in the same quarter bracket as Chioutzou and would be facing him in the second round.

Goku was immediately after since this was an alphabetical affair. He strode purposefully up to the man holding the jug and reached his whole arm inside. The Tournament announcer finally got a good look at him and had to dip his sunglasses down to make sure his eyes weren't deceiving him.

"Is...is it really you? Son Goku!?" Goku grinned and gave a wave with his free hand, still rummaging with the other. The announcer paled and put his glasses back. "Hey, if it's not too much to ask, would you guys mind keeping down the explosions this time? We really, really would prefer it if our audience wasn't put in mortal danger."

Goku's smile waned a bit, but he nodded in consent before finally pulling his hand free and looking at the stone he'd drawn. It was the wrong side up so he turned it in his fingers and announced "Twenty one" aloud to the man at the board tracking their places. He returned to his friends without any comment. Someone named 'Igliss' was called next.

"What did he want?" Gohan asked. "He looked like he was going to be sick for a moment."

"He said he'd like it if we didn't demolish the arena this year. Didn't want someone accidentally getting hurt."

Gohan scoffed. "What they need is a big show to draw people in, not play it safe and boring."

Jao-Jao was called up.

"Yeah, probably. Piccolo blew up half of an island and the only person he hurt was me. Can't really see it being much different now."

"We also didn't have the collective power to obliterate the entire planet at the time," the namekian reminded the saiyan. He wasn't looking at the father and son as he said this, instead focusing on one of the other contestants who was standing a little ways apart from the others and keeping stoicly silent. There was something about him that triggered alarm bells in the back of Piccolo's mind. Maybe it was the man's height, maybe it was his distinctly red skin or something else entirely, but Piccolo was getting wary. "Chioutzou, that one."

The diminutive psychic looked to where Piccolo nodded just as the man was called.

"Kibito!"

The large man walked forward and reached into the jug just as Chioutzou used his powers. Unexpectedly, the man, Kibito, turned his head and glared directly at Chioutzou. It might have been passed off as a coincidence if the small fighter hadn't felt an immovable wall engulf the man and his immediate area, rendering him beyond Chioutzou's influence without a great deal of effort. Even so, he was going to draw one of the stones that had been picked for him – that had already been arranged. He told the attendant that he was number eight and returned his spot, but now he was staring daggers at Chioutzou at the fighters immediately around him.

"He's another psychic," Chioutzou quietly informed the group, staring back at the man with veiled concern. "He felt my probes and locked me out. Be careful, Piccolo."

The namekian crossed his arms a bit tighter. "That's exactly why I wanted to face him." He waited another minute before his name was called and he went up claim the number five spot. There were a few fighters with 'R' and 'S' names before Yamcha was called up and given spot number three, the only other position available.

"And that leaves position number twenty nine for contestant Yamu! Alright, if I could please have you all clear the arena except for our first two competitors we shall begin the Tournament momentarily!"

They filed back towards the sidelines, some talking to each other and some starting to do warm-up stretches. The last contestant, Yamu, strode quickly to a corner and stood ramrod straight. Now that he'd been pointed out, the Z-Fighters noticed that Yamu was a bit...off. He could almost pass for a normal human on the street, but his slim frame was juxtaposed by the terrific amount of his muscles that were visible underneath his skin, which itself was unhealthily pale and verged on translucent in places. He also lacked a single hair on his entire head, making him look a bit like a skull. If all that wasn't enough, his eyes were both yellowed and bloodshot, and he had a large, stylized letter 'M' tattooed on his forehead.

Regardless of how unnerving he was, he was keeping to himself so the group weren't too worried about him, not like with Kibito. They spent the duration of the first match keeping an eye on the tall man, but he seemed content to ignore them now. He looked like he was wearing some kind of ceremonial outfit, with a plain blue undershirt and a red vest of some sort with protruding shoulders and an orange sash tied around his waist and impeccably draped down to his knees. He looked formal, though not quite austere.

The fight concluded and someone one, they weren't really paying attention. Next up was Yamcha facing off against Shorbit, a man whose upper body was pretty well built, but pretty much everything below his stomach looked puny in comparison. He might have been two different people glued together, it was weird.

Yamcha gave a customary bow and took up his crouched stance. Shorbit pounded his chest like a gorilla and bellowed. The fight started and immediately the mismatched man began to swing his large fists like a lunatic, probably hoping to knock Yamacha clear out of the ring as soon as possible. The scar-faced warrior ducked and stepped back to avoid the onslaught, not yet taking action.

"Hey, do you mind if I ask you something?" The former baseball ace started to lead Shorbit in a wide circle around the ring, the tournament announcer laying on commentary to keep the crowd pumped. "Are you maybe sick, or something?"

Shorbit enclosed one fist with the other and swung both arms in a great big hammer swing. Yamcha rolled to his back to avoid it, then pushed himself to the side with the fingertips of one hand, fluidly dodging the follow-up ground pound and rising back to his feet.

"I'm as healthy as a bear! I am the pinnacle of human fitness!" Shorbit threw his arms wide and bellowed again which got a reaction from the audience.

"Well, I mean, it's just that your...legs..."

"The greatest mistake of every martial artist in history was splitting up their training! I have devoted myself to having the strongest arms on planet Earth! Now, I crush boulders without even trying, and smash concrete like it's bars of chocolate! I am the ULTIMATE OFFENSE MASTER!" This lofty declaration was made in the face of the fact that he had yet to even lay a finger on Yamcha so far, but he seemed to really be in whatever world he'd made up for himself.

Now, Yamcha saw the obvious solution here; step past those swinging slabs of meat and land a single knock-out punch to end the match quickly. Another solution was to keep Shorbit following him around the ring until his legs gave out and he was forced to forfeit. But neither of those were especially exciting to watch, and Yamcha felt like giving the people something to cheer for.

Allowing the space between them to shorten, Yamcha kept dodging until a 'stumble' left him open for a hit and he was knocked off his feet, landing hard on his back. Shorbit yelled and kept up the assault, throwing his fists like jackhammers to try and squash his opponent. Yamcha rolled away, only just keeping ahead of the flurry of punches. Before reaching the other end of the arena, he heaved his legs around and swept Shorbit's out from underneath him.

But quite unexpectedly, the overly-buff man didn't fall helplessly to the ground; instead catching himself on the knuckles of both fists and levering his entire body up like it was just so much dead weight. Actually, supported as he was by his arms alone, he was taller than he'd been before and his toes didn't quite touch the floor. As if that feat of balance wasn't just enough, Shorbit laughed and started to move forward, using his arms like more efficient legs than his legs had been.

Yamcha, who took too long to gawp at the display, was almost crushed when Shorbit brough his fist/foot slamming down at him. He rolled backwards to get a little distance and to get back onto his feet for a second time. This match had officially gotten weird, and the time for playing around was up.

Shorbit held himself up with one hand and swung the other, this time with the intention of grabbing the scar-face. Yamcha intercepted with a raised forearm, stopping the mammoth limb dead in its tracks. He took a single step forward, lunging into it, and drove directly under Shorbit's ribcage, forcibly expelling all of the man's breath in a weak sputter, before taking hold of the previously swung arm at the wrist with both hands and pivoting in spot to bring the other man over his shoulder and crashing down into the ring.

Yamcha took a few shaky steps back, allowing everyone to think that he'd been taxed by the maneuver while the announcer started the ten count. Shorbit looked completely out of it, veritable stars in his eyes as he tried to catch his breath and get the ringing out of his ears. He didn't even hear it when "Ten!" was declared and he lost the match. The crowds were cheering and applauding, many of them as bewildered as Yamcha was by the double-switch Shorbit had shown.

The KO'd fighter was collected by a medical stretcher and taken to the back, his massive arms dragging across the ground on either side of him as he went. Yamcha waved at the crowd for a second before quickly hopping off the arena and making his way back to his friends, a noticeable flush to his face.

Gohan smirked and leaned towards him. "That guy almost get the better of you with that gorilla act?"

Yamcha threw a hand up to wave the accusation off. "What! No, no way, he just...he just really freaked me out, is all. I've never seen anybody try to fight like that. Maybe Fortune Teller Baba can hire him to join her gang of weirdos." The former bandit crossed his arms a bit petulantly."

"I thought you knew better than to goof around in a fight," Piccolo admonished him, not letting the matter go. "For all you knew, he could have been strong enough to knock you out while you were playing around on the ground."

"Oh c'mon, Piccolo, like that guy could have...been..." Yamcha saw the look he was getting from the namekian; stern, but with just a touch of mischief. It was enough to remind him of the last time he'd underestimated somebody at the Budokai and had paid dearly for it. At the hands of Kami, no less. His flush grew deeper and he looked away, awkwardly rubbing the back of one arm. "Yeah, alright." It was an incredibly embarrassing start to the tournament.

Goku broke the mood by reaching over and patting his old friend on the back. "Aw, you did great out there! The people really loved it! Look, Goten and Trunks are waving!" The group looked over and saw their friends and family sitting among the audience, most of whom were waving at them. Goku and Gohan waved back.

"Very good! Can contestants Piccolo and Boline please enter the ring!"

Piccolo swept past them, striding purposefully up the steps and onto the ring well before his opponent. Gohan figured that this might prove to be the shortest match of the evening. It was pretty clear that with Kibito as his opponent in round two he would want to face him as soon as possible to figure out why the guy was bugging him so much. If that meant poor showmanship, than so be it.

"Ring out! Piccolo is the winner!"

The half-saiyan turned his head minutely to look at the other person giving him danger signals. Yamu was still standing by himself, but now he'd procured some kind of handheld device that he was pointing at the arena and intently looking at whatever was on the things screen. A camera? A weapon? Impossible to tell, but Gohan wouldn't let it slip his mind for a second. There was something wrong with this tournament and he was starting to believe it wasn't just the rule shift.

"Can Adonis and Kibito please enter the ring?"

Bulma had looked down to grab a packet of wet wipes from her bag to clean up the candy Trunks had accidentally melted in his hand when a polite cough got her attention. She looked up and found that a man was standing just in front of her, somehow having gotten there in the second she'd been distracted. He was pretty short, shorter than her, though his impressively straight mohawk of white hair might have tipped the balance in his favor. His skin was a pretty light purple, probably looked like a normal tanned skin tone from a distance, and he was wearing a kind of ceremonial getup with light blue pants under a darker blue vest with red trim that extended down to the back of his knees. He also had a pair of earrings that looked like simple, marble sized yellow orbs.

"Uh, yes? Can I help you?" She went for polite, but this guy's stare was a bit...off-putting.

"Indeed, if you are, as I believe, the one and only Bulma Briefs, then your assistance would be invaluable. You see, I am unfortunately here on a matter of life and death that may determine the fate of your entire planet."

Trunks, the time-traveling one, stood up and took a couple of steps to stand at his mother's side. He looked from her to the stranger with undisguised scrutiny – attempting to determine if he was a threat or not. "Is there something you want to tell us?"

The small man fixed his piercing gaze on the tensed up half-saiyan. A moment passed where he seemed to be calculating before he spoke next. "Yes, there is something I would like to discuss with you. I had hoped to also speak with the saiyan named Goku, but I was unable to get an opportunity before the tournament began, so I sent my aide in my place." He turned to point into the ring as Kibito evaded several jabs from the man wearing boxing gloves without even bending his knees.

"So you know who we are, but I don't think I've ever seen you around before," Bulma insisted, really hoping this guy wasn't about to take them hostage or something. That would turn messy in a heartbeat.

"Forgive my manners, I am the Supreme Kai of the Universe, protector and nurturer of life and creation." He placed a hand to his chest and gave a small bow at the waist.

Trunks and Bulma started at him without comment for a moment. "Oh," she managed after a second. "You're the god of the universe. That's pretty cool."

Supreme Kai smiled courteously. "I am pleased to make your acquaintances, truly, but we really must speak about the coming threat."

"Ahhh sure, yeah," Bulma looked up at Trunks then back at the others who had since gathered behind her to listen in. "Threat. That's what we're all about here. Big, planet ending evils that need to be slapped into place. No problem."

Supreme Kai smiled again, but it was without the same cheer as before. "I hope with all of my being that it is that simple. But should the worst arise, then I need for you and your companions to be ready to defend the planet from a great terror the likes of which haven't been seen in millennia."

Bulma wanted to respond to that, but she was kinda pulling up blank right now. This was supposed to have been a fun weekend with her friends, but this guy walks up and dumps news of a supposed armageddon in their laps like they were a complaint desk or something. Honestly, she was used to planet ending dangers popping up very suddenly, but this seemed like it was some kind of bad joke or something. Could this guy really be the god of the universe? She couldn't feel energy or whatever, but one look at Trunks or the others told her that they were on edge and taking this guy very seriously.

Krillin spoke up then, a sudden hardness behind his eyes. "How long do we have before it gets here?"

The Kai took a breath and met all of their stares for a brief moment. "If I am correct, and the evidence suggests nothing else...then it is already here, and we are this moment standing on the precipice."

"So," Krillin sighed, looking back towards Goku and the others, "no pressure or anything."

AN: Hey, you guys, who likes taking a poll? I sure as hell don't!

…

…

Honesty may not have been the best policy there, but regardless, I'll ask you all the same. Worst you can say is no, anyway.

I've got a poll up on my profile and it's a simple two answer deal, simple as can be. But I'd ask that you give it a good think before choosing because you will be helping to determine the fate of a character down the line. Which character it is, or what the circumstances behind the choice are I can't tell you or I risk contaminating your opinion, but it's something that has been eating at me for actual years now as I plan this story out and I just had to tell myself to reach out and get a second opinion. Or a third one. Or however many of you choose to answer.

Regardless of if you decide to take the poll or not, thank you all so very much for reading, and thanks especially to those who've been with me from the start. You all are rock stars to me.