Dragon Ball: Faded Dawn

by TheCongo

Even as the Cell games came to a crashing end, his mind drifted toward another time, to a war that would end with his return, only to find himself in a new conflict with all of humanity on the line once more. From one dark future to another, Trunks must fight through legends across all walks of existence to return home and finish what he started.

1. A Strange Land

Welcome to another fic in my lineup of completely cracked ideas that came to me on a whim, as with everything else I do. For those who don't know me, I primarily write Metal Gear: Grail Wars but have decided to stretch my wings into new horizons with another concept I've been toying with these past few months.

Now, of course, Dragon Ball was a massive part of my childhood, and I hope yours as well; the series lies near and dear to many people and remains sadly underused in crossovers. I plan to address that with this story, and of course, using my favorite character from the series, Future Trunks, there'll be a lot of fun in this endeavor. However, given the rampant power scaling differences, expect him to be quite broken, not against every opponent by any means. Still, those who have read my other works know I do not limit my characters in any fashion, so expect some busted moments here and there.

I'm writing this story since we never saw much of Future Trunks outside of the Cell arc and, of course, his involvement in Super if you discount the various game series, most of which I've played. Out of every Saiyan, he always stood out as the most compelling and realistic of them all, lacking many of the more toxic battle traits that heavily reflected his upbringing in a wartorn environment. To summarize, I want more Trunks content and hope to push his character and the overall narrative of Grand Order in a different direction with this story.

Will it be completely different? No, I tend to let my characters decide how the story progresses and base any changes on how they would respond in these situations; forced shifts never end well for a narrative and don't align with my tastes. As an author, I'll always strive to have the actors within the story remain as in character as possible, showing the best of both worlds in what is likely the most bizarre crossover I have ever thought of out of complete randomness.

As a graduate student, my schedule is quite hectic, so don't expect fast uploads, but I'll try my best. With all that summarizing out of the way, let's get into this and hopefully find a story worth continuing.

...

"Sometimes, we have to look beyond what we want and do what's best." – Piccolo.

...

Starlight flickered from above, stretching across the horizon of civilization and into the realm of animals and roaming grasslands, through sectors only divided by the thin lines of maps and nothing more, connected through the United Earth Government, yet distinct all the same.

There was quiet peace to it all, with the various inhabitants of their world able to rest in comfortable silence for the first time in days, no longer racked by the terror of what was to come. Martial arts had reigned supreme as the pinnacle of entertainment and unification since their civilization began, with televised events broadcasting to people across their strange place in the universe.

It had been a thing of wonder, watching the culmination of men training all their lives for a myriad of reasons, glory, honor, pride, or for some, prize money remained a valid justification all the same. And yet, even the most mundane of things could take a turn for the worst with the wrong actors; in their world of conflict, peace had always been a distant dream for quite some time. Some could remember the days of the Red Ribbon Army spreading fear and chaos throughout the lands; others would recall King Piccolo's carnage or even the alien invasions, but nothing could compare to the raw terror wrought mere weeks ago.

It began with a simple broadcast along a network like any other, ZZTV, their headquarters overrun and overtaken by a single creature, a being unlike anything the world had seen, a monster, a combination of different genomes and sequences, culminating in an entity that fused cybernetics and biology into a functional horror.

Cell, a simple name for such a complex organism, his hardened green carapace interwoven with blackened layers of armor reflected the gentle luminescent glow from above. His white skin remained plastered with layers of yellow and purple lining, reflective of his smattering of pooled DNA bridging toward his pink irises as they stared into the viewers' souls in utter madness. He stood tall, far larger than any human could hope to surpass, as though he fused the concepts of man and bug into one living creature.

His message remained simple, merely wishing to host a martial arts tournament, a continuation of what once was before his existence...The Cell Games, with no glory nor prize to be had; instead, the stakes remained far higher than anything one could expect from such a match of blows. Fought on a near replica of the arenas used for the World's Martial Arts Tournament, the fate of not only humanity but every living creature would be decided, for their planet would belong to him should they fail to meet his challenge.

And just as soon as he arrived, the man disappeared, ushering in nine days of tumultuous fear and panic, only to raise that much more as the actual war for their world began on the plains near NorthEast City. For most, those were days of unrest and worry; they watched helplessly as unknown warriors rose to face the creature, just to fall before his might. But, as all hope seemed lost, their hero emerged, Mr. Satan, the strongest man to ever live, had defeated Cell without so much as a struggle, and with that, their anxiety fluttered away, knowing so long as he existed, Earth was safe.

For most, that was enough; yet another threat to their world and utter existence fell into nothingness, soon to be forgotten as just another conquest of their defender, and to them, that was enough. While insane to outsiders, for the Earthlings, these affairs were relatively normal, something one had to get used to living in such a strange world, but as it were, not all could rest well on that peaceful night.

A figure stirred, his blankets long since discarded to the wayside; sweat trickled down his once tan skin, now utterly pale within the thralls of terror. He mumbled what could only appear as obscenities to an outsider, reflecting the utter chaos swirling within his unconscious mind, his hand lazily swiping toward an unseen foe before dropping flat along his chest as it rapidly rose and fell. His thoughts remained unrefined, flickering between images and sounds before settling their course; where was he?... It all drifted in at once.

The teen stood atop a dry, cracked ground, its orange appearance caused by the harsh sunlight above, and yet he paid no mind, with only fear and confusion driving him forward a single step, the earth crunching beneath his armored form. His narrow blue eyes shook in trepidation, staring past his allies, a mixture of humans, Saiyans, and a Namekian...a ramshackle assembly he called his friends and family, and yet, he couldn't focus on them.

He could only watch in disbelief as a cloud of smoke blew through the air, interlaced with a static he'd only seen on one other person. Every sense in him screamed to run, yet he remained firmly entrenched; through pride and fear, the demi-Saiyan stood still as energy roared through the atmosphere.

*WHOOSH

Like a tidal wave of wind, ki blew through across their broken battlefield, littered with craters and the fractured remnants of Cell's children, their small blue bodies contrasting with the harsh orange surrounding them before even they flew off into the distance, carried by sheer power to unknown crevices never to be seen again.

Rock formations broke and gave way before its onslaught, their pieces washing away, leaving the space devoid of any scenery, although his focus never left the source for even a second, waiting for the inevitable strike. There was no way he could be back; Goku had given his life to take Cell with him...it wasn't possibl-

*BZZZT

A pale white finger slowly emerged from the shroud of debris, a ring of yellow ki surrounding its form, expanding into a veritable sphere of golden light. No...this wasn't happening...the teen had trained for years inside that time chamber, but this...he felt powerless...insignificant like he was a fly in front of a hurricane.

His blue eyes flashed as the pressure billowed through his long purple locks, with each strand flowing behind him as he watched the yellow light expand and grow. It was such a simple attack, focusing your energy on a single point and releasing...and yet, despite the distance, he could feel the sheer strength behind it...he shook in place, an untold fear racking his very essence, knowing this kind of power could destroy the wor-

*FWING

It happened in an instant, a single sound, so fast even his honed senses almost missed it...too swift to comprehend; one moment, he was standing alongside his friends, ready to take on the world. His life had been nothing but torment from a young age, having everyone and everything taken away by the androids. The world burned in utter anarchy because they got some sick kick from watching others suffer.

The future warrior hated them more than words could describe; it wasn't just about doing what was right anymore; he watched as his mentor died because of them...no; he wanted them dead...so he trained, got stronger, and even went back in time to help prevent the madness his timeline endured...even getting to meet his father for the first time.

What was there to say? For the first time in his life, there was hope again, something he hadn't felt since losing Gohan; they got Goku his heart medicine and fought off the androids, and the Saiyan finally felt useful, even donning the armor his father seemed so proud of wearing, designed by his mother to keep him safe...the teen was proud of himself, coming so far, with victory so close...and now-

*TSSSS

Energy crashed into his chest in an explosion of power, tearing through layer after layer of plating as though it didn't exist before searing through his flesh, melting bone, muscle, and even his blood into nothingness. Within less than a second, the beam tore through him, and out the other side, he tried to brace himself, but there was nothing left to give, every ounce of power sapped from him long ago.

He could only gasp as the force blew him through the air, tumbling through the wind as untold agony coursed through him, slamming back first onto that wasteland below before sliding to a stop. It happened so fast that there was nothing to be done; one moment, he stood proud as any other of his peers, and now...everything felt hazy, like it was drifting away before his very eyes...was this really how it ended?

The Saiyan tried to speak, to take even the smallest of breaths, only for a deep gurgle to meet him instead; his body convulsed, his destroyed nerves trying to clear the passage with every ounce of strength left in him. And with a violent lurch, he spat a torrent of blood across the ground before following suit, his head crashing onto the rugged rocks below. And by sheer force of will, his gaze shifted just a bit, wishing to see the father he never had one last time.

The man stood, no longer with the eternal pride the teen had heard so much about; his armor remained intact, and yet...he stood shaking, his narrow black eyes widened as far as they could go, looking..at him...why? The Prince of All Saiyans, Vegeta, remained wordless; his mouth hung open, opening and closing before finding the words to speak, "Trunks!"

*Gasp

The Saiyan shot up from his slumber, sweat pouring down his form as he forcibly sat up, leaning against the cold wall behind him as he panted away his worries. Seconds passed like this, merely collecting his thoughts from the scrambled mess he had just endured. The warrior ignored the numbness in his limbs, forcing his right arm to move, throwing his sheets aside as he gripped his chest, half expecting to feel a hole burned into his chest, only to sigh in a mixture of relief and frustration.

The Saiyan leaned back on his headboard, gazing out into the barren guestroom still shrouded in darkness, with only the faint starlight flickering in from outside. He blew a stream of air upwards, letting his anxiety drift away, billowing through a strand of purple hair before it fell back into place. It was just a dream...but that feeling, he just couldn't shake it.

Trunks slowly shifted, putting one foot along the cold ground below and then another. He sat there a moment, simply staring at his connected hands as his grip grew tighter by the moment; it was frustrating; the demi-Saiyan never cared about pride or honor; he never needed those things, they had no purpose besides getting yourself killed; but still...dying like that...he felt weak...helpless...as if his work meant nothing.

He wasn't one to sulk; no, Gohan taught him better than that, he would lick his wounds and get back up sooner or later, but it just served to remind him that no matter how far he had come, there was still so much to do. Dying must have made him sentimental, or at least frazzled enough to think about these things, and there was a long list to wrap up once he got back to his timeline.

The bedframe audibly creaked as the swordsman slowly rose, taking satisfaction as his shoulders audibly popped before trudging his way through the darkness, his thoughts aimlessly wandering. The Androids were still out there, and with each passing moment, they took more lives, and for what? There was no reason behind it, not anger, not vengeance...not-

An image flashed to mind, the man he looked up to more than anyone else, the person who trained him to be strong, his tan face scarred from years of combat as his short black hair swayed in the storm-driven winds as rain coated his form. One day, they were training as any other and the next-

He'd never forget seeing him that day, lying face down in some puddle of muck in a shattered city. The man he considered his best friend, Gohan, had died trying to do what was right, and the Androids had killed him for it. The Saiyan could picture them now, the memory never leaving his mind for a moment, their punk, rebel outfits, the misfit behavior, a shit-eating grin across their faces...but they had the power to back up, and he would never forgive them for what they did.

The warrior passed through a doorway, the lights flickering on automatically as he entered a bathroom. He took a slow breath, leaning along the counter as he gazed at his reflection in a mirror along the wall. Things had changed a lot; he was still a boy when he met his father for the first time, but now? Through a mixture of warfare and a hyperbolic time chamber, he was eighteen but looked to be a fully grown adult, one of the pros of being a Saiyan, he supposed. The teen's tan skin and hardened musculature reflected a life of hardship, but one he would never look back on, knowing someone had to end the madness in his time; sitting and hoping for change wouldn't bring it; the Briefs was no fool.

Trunks had always tried to do good for the world, helping people in need, never quite seeing himself as the Saiyan his father was...no, he was human too, and he wanted to protect the world, and the teen failed time and again, only escaping with his life every time he tried. He felt different now; the swordsman might have died, but he learned from his mistakes, and the Androids wouldn't stand a chance.

The hybrid's stare hardened as his mind settled on those abominations; there was no doubt in his mind that he wanted them dead; it was more than just enforcing justice or some idealistic virtue of doing what was necessary; no, they took everything from him. The Saiyan knew it wouldn't bring his loved ones back, but it would stop the insanity, and really? It was about revenge, they made Gohan suffer, and they would pay for every second of torment inflicted on the man he had looked up to for as long as he could remember.

He pushed the thoughts away, knowing it would be over soon enough, and then the future could move into something better; the warrior could only hope it would be a lasting peace. The Saiyan hummed, raising a tan hand as it cupped his chin, idly studying his features before his gaze settled on his long purple locks, stretching down past his neck. It still felt surreal, spending a year training with his father, and even if the man was even sterner than his mother described, the boy couldn't help but smile; being able to spend time with him felt like a gift regardless.

With a sigh of exhaustion, the hybrid glanced back, gazing out a distant window into the early morning dawn, with the sun's golden rays peaking just over the horizon, washing over the broken but still vibrant world so many called home. He stared into its glow for a moment, it was a new day for this timeline, and soon, it would be for his too. And with a shrug, the Saiyan walked off to take his morning shower, wanting to look his best before saying goodbye.

...

Hours later

The hybrid walked through the endless halls of Capsule Corporation headquarters, a mixture of industry and domestic life as workers and cleaning staff ran amock trying to keep up with the boundless ethic his mother showed every day. Most passed by without a word, with others giving him a courteous nod; it was strange to him, seeing so many people, healthy, happy, together...it brought a sense of joy in the Saiyan; he might not know these people, nor would he likely meet them again, but just seeing the world he helped preserve made it all worth it.

A weight shifted in his hand, and he glanced down, seeing the briefcase his mother prepared for him, stuffed with an array of capsules filled with whatever insanity she cooked up in the lab that day. Another oddity, he still had his own mother in the future waiting for him to come home, but it was nice having her around now, seeing that she never changed all that much, always retaining that same spark she instilled in him.

As the Saiyan's march came to a halt, he took a slow breath, glancing over himself one last time before the door ahead; out there stood his friends and family, there to say their goodbyes, he wasn't the sort of person to get anxious about these things, but still, even he wanted to leave a good impression. The hybrid was a bit embarrassed by his choice of outfit, wearing the same black pants and yellow boots, his dark undershirt overlaid with a blue Capsule Corp jacket pulled tight. He idly raised a hand back, pulling his ponytail tight; he had thought about cutting it, but part of him wanted to mess with his mom about it, and the other...well, maybe he just liked it that way.

He pushed the matter aside, steeling his nerves before walking through the door ahead, its glass frame sliding away through the commands of automatic sensors, revealing the world once more. Before him, along a patch of green grass interlaced with vibrant trees, stood a mixture of people of all standings and sizes, his comrades, family, friends, the list went on, but the bottom line was they were all important to him. He idly listened to the chirping of the birds as he gazed toward his time machine, its yellow form looming in the distance, before glancing away, wishing to live in the moment.

Trunks slowly studied their features, taking in the sight one last time; so many of them had fallen before he was old enough to remember anything; it was an exciting experience, matching names and faces to the descriptions he heard time and again growing up. Krillin was just as short as his mom mentioned, but the little bald man was probably the kindest of them, all; seeing something in 18 that the Saiyan couldn't understand, he wouldn't support keeping her alive, but it was their choice.

The two merely nodded at one another before his gaze locked with Yamcha, the man giving him the same goofy look his mom repeatedly mentioned, childish and immature but braver than most people could pull off, with Puar's little blue form riding atop his head. With a simple thumbs up, the warrior was on his way, his focus settling on the woman who raised him.

The past version of his mother, wearing a typical zebra pattern dress, casually standing in the peaceful sunlight. The sight could only make the boy smile; his own mother was stuck in the lab every single day, trying to find a solution to the world's problems, just seeing her blue hair straight instead of ruffled and her pale skin not sunken from exhaustion...it meant the world to him, knowing she'd be happy.

Without a word, she pulled him into a hug, and as he stood over her, his blue eyes glanced toward his grandparents, smiling from a distance; in his grandmother's arms rested his younger self, with a few strands of purple hair drifting out of his little hat as he fussed in the woman's grasp. That was one of the weirdest experiences for him, interacting with himself but not him at the same time...how to describe it?... He shrugged the matter away; it was complicated, to say the least, but it was nice knowing that this version wouldn't have a life like his.

As the hybrid slowly pulled back, his mother gently clasped his right hand between hers, smiling at him with a sense of love he'd seen time and again growing up, "I'm really proud of you son...you be careful, okay?"

The warrior struggled to respond, his voice hitching in his throat; he just stood there for a moment, taking it all in. This scene before him was it, everything he had ever wanted to see in the world, the blue sky intermingled with rising buildings, filled with people going about their day as any other. At the same time, he was surrounded by the people that made it possible. It was a dream, and they made it happen through sheer force of will, refusing to give in to Cell's madness...but there was no time to waste; he had one last fight to finish, but the hybrid wouldn't worry his mother. With a smile of reassurance, he could only promise, "Thanks, mom...I will."

As he let go, the hybrid slowly began his march forward, his gaze locking onto a familiar set of spiky black hair, far longer than the one he grew up seeing nearly every day. Standing so much shorter than him was the young version of his teacher and friend, Gohan, but as he approached, the Saiyan's blue gaze shifted, seeing his father leaning along a nearby tree, huffing in annoyance as a green leaf landed along his teal shirt, still angered by the slightest things.

Part of him was shocked the man ever bothered to show, but, time and again, the man surprised him with something new; maybe...he really did care? Trunks knew deep down his father held far too much pride in both himself and his race to ever utter such words aloud, but the teen wanted to know... he took a step forward, pushing the pressure away as he spoke, "Dad?"

Vegeta remained unmoving, his arms crossed as he leaned back along the oaken surface. His tan skin was shrouded by the greenery above, his narrow black eyes always in an eternal glare as he studied his son's form. A cold wind billowed through the courtyard as moments ticked by...before; with the simple wave of two outstretched fingers, the man bid his goodbye.

The hybrid responded in kind, deep down confirming his beliefs; actions spoke louder than words in many facets, but...hearing that his father went mad with his death...and seeing him now...Trunks knew the man honestly did care for them in his own way. It was relieving in a way, to discover the man wasn't the bastard others painted him as; even having moments of genuine kindness, he hoped someday they could meet again...somehow.

But as the warrior observed his vehicle ahead, he knew that day was a while away; it was time to bring everything to an end, to finally bring this peace to his world as well. Trunks turned, giving everyone a last look, smiling as they gazed back at him, egging him on with smiles, cheers, words of encouragement, even hearing Yamcha yell, "you got this!" It was still bizarre having so many personal connections in one place, but...he liked it.

And with a simple grin, the hybrid turned away, approaching his craft as it loomed overhead. Its pointed yellow landing arrays dug into the ground, traveling upward into a spherical dome of glass with various engines strapped along the sides. It was something out of science fiction, a creation only his mother could achieve, time travel, which saved both this period and his.

With the push of a button, the dome slowly rose, unlatching from its magnetic holsters, exposing the intricate circuitry within, all surrounding a single leather seat. The Saiyan glanced to the side, seeing a word etched by his mother before his journey began; he traced a hand along its surface, 'hope.' A simple phrase, but it kept him going time and again, in the utter belief that there was a way out, for her sake and the world, he found it.

The hybrid slowly exhaled his emotions, flooding his system with ki as the energy coursed through him before gently leaping off the ground, his power keeping him afloat as he slowly rose toward his awaiting ride home. As he landed, the sphere enclosed him; in an instant, his hands went into a blur, flickering through commands and entering coordinates through practiced perfection, settling his destination.

Trunks gazed at the sky above one last time, peering through the layers of reinforced glass as the blue sea above stretched into the horizon as far as the eye could see, without a cloud in sight. It was a good way to end things, knowing his loved ones here could care for themselves, that just left his timeline. Without hesitation, the warrior tapped the ignition, the rockets below firing online, slowly blasting his craft upward.

As he built momentum, the Saiyan watched his friends waving goodbye for the last time; he could only grin, hoping they would meet again someday. The future swordsman hummed in thought, tapping a finger along the fuel gauge; chronal energy wasn't something you could find anywhere, it took years of effort, but then again, the teen wouldn't need to come back again for a long while. Trunks threw caution to the wind, slamming on the acceleration as a vortex opened above, launching into that infinite horizon of green ahead.

...

Moments Later

The Saiyan glanced below, watching as the last hints of his opening between timelines closed beneath him, slowly fading into a mere blur before the wound resealed entirely. Not that it mattered, there was no time for regret, and while he'd miss the friends and loved ones he found in that place, his home lay elsewhere.

He gazed up, his hands guiding the interdimensional vehicle through the green rings of time as the energy of existence surged around him like a pool of infinity. It was a dangerous journey, with him as one of the only pioneers to ever see such a sight, but he supposed it had a beauty to it.

Trunks was never a poet, nor was he much of a painter, but he always enjoyed the calm serenity of the moment, those brief minutes where he wasn't a boy trapped in a cycle of war and death, where he could just...exist. The Saiyan couldn't help but smile at the sight, knowing he was utterly alone in this place, but it didn't bother him; for one in his life, the hybrid wasn't running away or hiding, no, he was bringing the fight to the enemy, and it felt good.

His smile grew by the second, as all the anxieties briefly disappeared, leaving the swordsman in a state of euphoria; he actually did it...the entire situation felt surreal, but...it was over...the Androids...Cell...it all came to an end; he helped prove there was a better way forward.

He could zoom home immediately, punch through the veil of material existence with what little chronal power his time machine had left, but some part of him just wanted to appreciate the moment a bit longer. On a whim, the teen let go of his controls, allowing the craft to drift forward as he leaned back, raising his palms behind his head, the chair creaking all the while. So lost in his own head, the boy failed to feel himself drifting back as rusted screws slowly gave way befo-

*CRACK

The Saiyan could only gasp as he fell back, tumbling about in the limited space as his boots slammed into the dashboard across an array of keys. His eyes widened as alarms blared as the craft roared into turbulence, throwing him about as its rockets fired in random directions.

He scrambled to lift the object off of him, an easy feat, but with the utter fear of breaching a hole in his fragile craft, the likelihood of being utterly torn apart by the forces outside remained firmly entrenched within the teen's mind. The warrior gasped as the vehicle roared through turbulence, flying far off course as it spun out of control.

With a grunt of anger, the hybrid clambered to his feet, awkwardly crouched as a fallen chair took up half the surrounding space with nowhere to go. His blue orbs stared down at the controls, smashed to pieces with a single strike.

Through sheer force of will, the Briefs remained calm, assessing the situation; the fuel was almost completely gone, and so was his steering, with no way of recovery. Utterly off course and by himself, there wasn't much he could do besides-

Trunks glanced to the side, seeing the undamaged controls for opening the nearest gateway into time; he paused in hesitation; leaping into the unknown could do anything, erase him from existence, land him in the middle of space with no way out, or on some barren rock where the Saiyan would suffocate...none of them sounded enticing, but what choice did he have, sit here and die? No...not like this.

The warrior tightened a fist, shaking in frustration at his own mistakes, a single instance of pride had gotten him into this shit show, and now, the hybrid needed to pay for it. With a grunt of anger, he slammed down on the control, fracturing the button as internal components whirled to life, firing what little power remained in the vehicle forward, breaching the void as a swirling green vortex opened up. And as his craft flew through, the teen could only brace for the worst.

Moments flickered by in darkness until reality surged into place; he scanned the horizon, seeing layers of blackened soot wafting around the device as it fell from high altitude. The Saiyan took a sigh of relief; at least he landed on a planet...but was it habitable?... He huffed in frustration; there wasn't time to do a check, no, way to check how high he was with no fuel meant no thrusters...Trunks couldn't afford to destroy this thing; he had no clue how to put it back together, minor repairs? Sure, but his mom was the genius, not him. As his tan hand rested along the release latch, he took a deep breath before pulling down.

*WHOOSH

A torrent of smoke spilled into the craft as heat rushed into its cooled atmosphere; he put a boot atop the metal surface, feeling its sturdy material refuse to even bend, then another, standing atop an edge over a falling abyss into darkness. With a silent hope for solid ground, the Saiyan leaped into the unknown, ki surging as he flew straight down, feeling toxic pollutants rush into his eyes, only to blast away as his energy flared in a wellspring of white haze.

The hybrid's mad dash ended as he forcibly stopped in place, hovering with the practiced skill of a Saiyan warrior, raising a single waiting palm high, held flat toward the sky before several tons of weight crashed onto the waiting digits at once. He didn't budge, merely shifting the object in his hand before beginning a slow descent.

The cloud layer lay beneath his falling form; whatever was down there didn't matter; the swordsman just needed a moment of rest to figure something out. Trunks had spent his entire life rigging old machines to work for just a little longer...he'd get by somehow; he had to. But as the world came into view, his thoughts came to a crashing halt.

A fire burned across the landscape, drowning an array of buildings, infrastructure, and everything else that made up the modern confines of contemporary life into a sea of ashen despair. Trunks stared in disbelief, scanning through the shattered urban center for any sign of life, yet seeing nothing, how had he gotten home?

His thoughts ran wild; there was no possible way...he went so far off course, and yet...as he stared at the rusted remains of cars of all makes and sizes scattered through fallen high-rise buildings, once dotting the skyline in their ugly combination of concrete and glass, now battered and broken along the roadways.

Heat wafted over the hybrid's form as the inferno refused to smolder for even a moment, as though the land itself were engulfed in a sea of boundless rage; what happened here? Trunks was no fool; the Androids had to be behind this...it's what they did...find a city of value and destroy everything in sight, kill every living thing before moving on to the next one, rinse and repeat for years, and the world was left a shell of its former self, its inhabitants nearly extinct...they were here...they had to be.

He drifted along the skyline as his energy surged, flying through the pollutants and decay wafting through the atmosphere, trying to find any solid ground amidst this chaos. Within moments, the swordsman spotted what was once a support pillar for some building or other, now lying as a chunk of white rock amidst the burning embers; it would have to do.

His tied purple hair billowed in an updraft as the orange glow from the fire contrasted with his tan skin, yet he paid no mind. His boots landed atop the solid ground. With a solemn nod, the Saiyan reached up toward his craft, tapping a button along one of the yellow legs before the weight dispersed into nothingness, leaving little more than a cloud of smoke in its wake, a small metallic capsule landing in his awaiting grip.

Trunks could only stand there in silent awe, staring out at the dead horizon as his rage slowly grew, watching as multiton chunks of rubble crumbled off still-standing structures, slamming into the earth before going quiet. No matter how many times the boy had seen it, he would never accept the carnage those things caused wherever they went.

His blue orbs drifted along the scene, pressure building from deep within, absent-mindedly landing along a distant street sign, half melted, yet remaining lurched overhead, hanging by a veritable thread of molten slag, the words 'Fuyuki City' blurred, yet legible. He raised a brow as he lipped the name; he had never heard something like that before...it wasn't very descriptive, not like West or Orange City, at least.

Trunks disregarded the matter with a shrug; he wasn't an expert with maps, to begin with, and some obscure city he had never heard of was hardly surprising. The hybrid crossed his arms against his chest as his blue jacket deflected any on-coming embers, not that they would do anything. He closed his eyes in thought as his senses expanded, feeling for any lifeforms still present, knowing damn well that the Androids gave off no signal, but he had to prioritize survivors...if any were left.

A sigh escaped him as his brow furrowed; he could feel a handful of entities in the distance, a few low enough to be human..but the others? It was strange, like their power level rose and fell at random intervals, others appearing and dispersing as though they never existed, with only a select few remaining consistent. It wasn't much, but at least the warrior had something to go off of; walking around blind with those things prowling in the dark was never a good idea, but he wasn't the type to abandon those in need. His mind briefly flickered back to that day, seeing the man he trusted lying dead in the road, his fists tightened in determination, never again.

He blew a stream of air upwards, blasting his dangling purple hairs out of the way before slowly trudging toward the edge; Trunks could only stare down into the billowing fires below, its fuel no longer even visible, merely a sea of waste beneath the roaring surface. His blue eyes absorbed their demonic glow, igniting his will once more; this ends here.

Power surged through him, funneling into his limbs as untold strength overwhelmed his very being; the Saiyan dropped low, his knees bent as the solid rock beneath him began to violently shake and crack, with small chunks raining down into the abyss below, before taking off.

*BOOM

The structure collapsed in an instant as the swordsman glided through the air, the wind propelling his purple locks upwards, leaping far into the sky toward a distant road just out of the flaming sea's grasp. As gravity slowly pulled the Saiyan down, his thoughts flickered through strategies and tactics; flight wasn't an option for the time being, he couldn't detect the Androids, but they damn well had good senses. He might be stronger than them, but Trunks was no fool; all it took was one mistake for everything to be for nothing; he couldn't afford to die here.

His boots slammed into the earth below, with a fine cloud of dust billowing around the teen, wafting away before his veil of white energy. He stood at a crossroads, each pathway leading to yet another scene of chaos and carnage. The Saiyan turned, gazing down a roadway littered with scrap metal and decayed buildings, once a smattering of shops, homes, utilities, the list went on, now nothing more than a broken wasteland.

The hybrid turned, gazing down one of the many roadways; off in the distance, he could feel a group of humans moving about, with more of those strange entities between them; it was hardly a question of what the teen had to do. Without so much as a word, the Saiyan began his march, the only sound throughout the city was the cracking of nearby flames and the impact of his boots along cracked asphalt.

Trunks' focus remained intact, utterly aware of his surroundings at all times, never quite knowing where or when the enemy would strike; from a dark alley, maybe from one of the broken structures looming overhead, anything was possible. The Androids loved to play their little games, but this time, he was ready, 17 and 18 wouldn't stand a chance, and the swordsman was beyond reasoning with them; no, if you're willing to take an innocent life, you weren't redeemable to him, it was just that simple.

He could only sigh, seeing the remains of what were once homes, businesses, and utilities of all kinds, now lying battered and broken; the time traveler would never understand this mindset. Like a mixture of childishness and cruelty almost unfathomable to any average person was inflected on men, women, and children, it didn't matter to the Androids...these people weren't enemies, they were bystanders just trying to go about their day, and they were snuffed out, all the same, it was unforgiveable.

Trunks grunted in anger, his eyes briefly flickering to a vibrant green before pooling once more into their static blue through sheer willpower. The warrior could feel the wellspring of energy within wanting to surge to the surface, but he'd wait until the right moment; it wasn't enough to make those two suffer for what they did; no, the Saiyan wanted them broken. They needed to see what it was like to be helpless, weak, terrified of what was to come, and then, and only then, would he put them down.

Maybe it was cruel for him to think things like this, but really? The halfling didn't care; he wasn't some superhero from one of the ashen comic books he salvaged as a kid; there wasn't room for that sort of weakness in his time. Trunks did what was right in his own way, and if that meant having to sin, fight, and kill to keep the peace, then he had no qualms about putting the Androids down. It was a simple piece of logic to him; they decided that human life held no value; it was only fair for him to respond in kind. Maybe someday, the Saiyan could-

*Bump-Bump

He paused, his stride coming to an utter halt in an instant, remaining utterly still in the middle of a desolate roadway. Silence reigned over the landscape as burning embers drifted across his form, scattering and igniting new flames amidst the wreckage as smoke wafted to the buildings above, their interiors exposed to the elements, utterly carved out as though a hurricane had run through them. The warrior exhaled all unnecessary thoughts, his gaze remaining fixated ahead; as his voice escaped, he exhibited a tone of utter determination without so much as a trace of fear. "I know you're there; you might as well come out."

Seconds ticked by without a response, and yet the swordsman remained firm, listening to the stillness before the inevitable chaos as small chunks of rock fell from above, a voice soon following in their wake, echoing from somewhere up above amidst the jungle of decayed concrete. It reverberated toward the Saiyan down below, devoid of any life, as though it were permeated through some unknown material, interlaced with the dry husk of age, beginning with a hum of interest, "To see through the darkness and uncover my shrouded form... you are no ordinary human."

The hybrid's senses followed the figure's path as he dropped from above, his presence never leaving the teen's focus for even a moment, landing on the ground without so much as a sound. A raspy breath broke through the veil of silence as the entity studied the swordsman ahead. The warrior remained at the ready, able to respond to anything this creature threw at him, but this wasn't an Android...no, it was something else...it had some kind of energy, but like the ones he felt earlier, it rose and fell, as though it were unstable...why?

Trunks slowly turned, his blue eyes narrowed in caution as his fists tightened in anticipation of the battle before the creature came into view. Although enveloped in fog, its skin protruded through the mist, darker than the night. The entity loomed overhead, standing far taller than the hybrid, the distance between them making no difference. Yet, his gaze fell from its bald head to the strange white mask adorning...no...fused to its flesh, with no features visible. It remained there, utterly still, hunched over as though its body were giving out from some unknown pressure, with a long thin arm dangling past its knee, with the other wrapped in a set of silken cloth. The Saiyan huffed in acknowledgment, "I could say the same...what are you, another one of Gero's experiments gone wrong?"

The figure hummed in fascination as it slowly pivoted into motion, remaining ever distant as it circled the Saiyan. Its array of bronze adornments idly clicked and shifted with each step taken, no longer caring for the intricacies of remaining unseen. "I don't know this name you speak of, but to think...a mere human could survive such a conflict...I had thought we eradicated the lot of you some time ago."

Trunks followed the man as he marched, his thoughts redirecting as his words settled into place. The hybrid's static blue gaze narrowed as a warm breeze billowed through the streets, overwashing the two in an array of drifting ash and the remains of what was once a vibrant place like any other, now nothing more than a hell on earth. Behind the figure rest the broken remains of an apartment complex, the once possessions of its inhabitants strewn along the ground like waste, their occupants long since dead. "...You did this?"

The swordsman's mind went wild, were the Androids connected to this, or was he wrong? Was this his time or someone else's? If it wasn't, what was he going to-... No...he took a slow breath, the taste of smoke and burning rubble driving his chaotic thoughts into a wave of anger all too familiar for the warrior.

A chuckle broke out through the dense atmosphere, breaching the veil as its dry, uncaring tone reverberated for none but one to hear. The figure lurched back, cracking its deformed torso as its long arm stretched out before retracting in on itself as though none of this truly mattered. "Such are the ramifications of war; annihilation follows in its wake, with very few spared its ramifications...we were given our orders, and I followed them to perfection, not that I expect one such as yourself to comprehend true loyalty."

Trunks' fists tightened as he glared at the creature before him with righteous fury as strands of the blackened cloth surrounding its concealed arm drifted with the wind, swaying into utter oblivion just as the living beings he condemned to this fate. Whatever conflict this thing was talking about didn't matter; nothing could ever justify this level of destruction in his eyes. As his anger bubbled its way to the surface, the earthling's mind settled on its course; this ends here. He waved a hand across the scene as he spoke, "These were innocent people, and you butchered them like animals because what?! Someone told you to?!"

With a flash of power, ki surged through his systems, overwhelming his senses with superhuman strength as a white aura erupted across his form, his purple locks billowing upwards from the force. It didn't matter if this was his time or a different one; he swore to protect all of humanity, no matter what. The road cracked as the Saiyan took a heavy step forward, then another, slowly approaching his target as the figure slowly reached its free arm behind its dark torso. "You aren't walking away from this, and I've had enough of you."

As the tendril-like limb slowly retracted, the sound of metal clinking together drew the Saiyan's gaze, watching as the looming figure twirled a series of sharpened daggers between his fingers, blacker than the night, their hilt wrapped in a thin purple cloth, caressing his digits with each pass through their waiting grasp. The entity slowly lowered its stance, its knees lightly bent as its hand pointed an array of sharpened blades at the hybrid's heart, prepared to ignite into a flurry of action in an instant. "So, you have some talent to call your own?... Interesting."

As its unseen eyes observed the energy roaring off the swordsman like a torrent of power, he hummed in mild interest as though, for the first time in quite a while, he found something new to toy with before disposing of it like all the rest. "I'd like to play for a while, but my orders remain in place; I am to dispose of you and then move on to the next; entertain me, won't you?"

A stillness overwhelmed the battlefield; jagged cracks ran through what were once paved roadways for miles on end, their paint chipped, with crevices dug into their hardened surface. The hybrid stared down his foe without fear nor hesitance; he had trained for this all his life; fighting an unknown was a situation much like any other, yet... As his blue orbs stared into that lifeless mask, unsure if it was made of human bone or merely a synthetic facade, everything told the teen to remain on edge. Trunks remained static, just waiting for the inevitable to happen.

*Bump-Bump

*Bump-Bump

*Bump-Bump

Like a speeding bullet, the Assassin took off, rocketing across the battlefield at inhuman speeds, his form appearing as little more than a blackened blur roaring through the red atmosphere. His daggers flew through the air, only to be replaced by another within his waiting grasp; in mere seconds, the summon had created a veritable barrage from all sides before time surged back into place.

His blades raced toward their target with untold precision, crafted through a lifetime of expertise and warfare. Their blackened surfaces reflected the glowing embers surrounding the pair as they soared toward individual targets. Nothing vital, not quite yet, this was a mere test before the real battle began; it was a part of his ritual to know the true aptitude of one's foe before striking them down, such was the nature of an Assassin.

He had adopted the title of Hassan through nothing more than utter sacrifice; it was part of his very being; despite the madness overwhelming his core, the man believed in obedience to true power, and that alone defined his allegiance. As his opponent remained unmoving, the killer couldn't help but wonder if he had made a lapse in judgment, but so be it, for he would soon find mo-

*FWING

Before the figure's unseen gaze, his target flickered out of existence, dispersing into a myriad of blackened lines and utter nothingness where his strikes once rang true; there remained nothing more than confusion and emptiness. He turned in all directions, attempting to locate an enemy that vanished before a thought came to mind...his knives hadn't lande-

*CLANG

As if by raw instinct, the dark Assassin whirled on his heels, his mask concealing all sense of shock from the outside world. His gaze landed along a blurred set of purple hair before the Saiyan sprung into action.

With a surge of ki, power rocketed through the hybrid's form; his left boot dug into the soil as his shoulder lurched back. The swordsman swung hard, his muscles clenching as his bare fist made contact with solid white plating. Bones cracked as a surge of blood erupted from the Assassin's shattered face as untold pressure blasted him across the battlefield.

He spun uncontrollably, his extended black limbs flailing about to no avail as he crashed through a broken storefront, going straight through solid concrete before the structure collapsed atop his frazzled form, a colossal cloud of dust shooting into the sky in his wake.

Trunks stared at his work, watching as the rubble settled into place as small rocks danced to the street below, not in satisfaction, but in understanding. His mind was that of a tactician, forged through the fires of war; it became instinctive to know when to run and when to fight, and if all his enemy could do was throw knives at a snail's pace, this was no threat.

*RRRRRR

The rubble began to shift, and quake before a giant chunk of material blasted into the sky, revealing the blackened figure, still shrouded in his ethereal mist. He slowly emerged from his tomb of rock and rebar, panting as his hand dragged along his face, his mask held together by strands at best, with cracks running along its white surface as red liquid trickled through the openings, falling to the ground below. "You...what sort of creature are you?"

Trunks took a step forward, slowly marching on a path of utter destruction, his blue eyes reflecting a hatred few could understand; he had grown up in this chaos, never knowing when the horrible inevitability of death might come into his life. Every day held the risk of losing someone important, all because of people like the monster standing before him. He gripped a tan fist in frustration as he prepared for the next assault, "I'm what your kind fear most; tell me, how does it feel being weak? To be helpless before someone that much stronger than you?

The killer growled before falling into a coughing fit as more visceral liquid trickled down. He pushed the feeling away through sheer experience, withdrawing more blades from his endless arsenal of weaponry as they loosely dangled in his grasp, looming overhead atop a pile of destruction caused by his hand. "Your overconfidence will be your undoing, boy..."

With untold force, the Assassin raced into action, throwing another blade aimed at the teen's skull, intent on splitting it wide open to put an end to his nonsense...only for him to disappear at the last moment once again, his knife embedding into the ground with an audible clink.

The Saiyan reappeared at the figure's side; the monster whirled around in an instant, his knife's edge careening through the air toward his throat, only for him to vanish and appear directly behind him, staring at him with not a sense of confidence, but utter assuredness in his own power, driving the Assassin's rage to new heights.

The hybrid's glare remained ever present, knowing that with his death, the suffering he inflicted would end, but that wouldn't bring back the innocents the creature killed, but it had to end. Ki exploded off his form as energy rose to the sky above, blasting away the clouds of ash surrounding the warrior as he faced off against yet another monstrosity. "All I see is someone who can't do a thing to stop me, someone I could end in an instant...that fear...that uncertainty...that's how your victims felt every single day, and you're going to pay for it."

As the Servant whirled around, his gaze flashed across the battlefield; learning from past mistakes, his foe would dodge this strike and appear somewhere else, so long as he could determine its location, he would come out victorious as he always had before. He raised his blackened arm overhead as his grip tightened, slamming downward with untold force, rocketing on a course to the boy's purple locks from above.

Time slowed to a crawl as Trunks merely tilted his head to the side, feeling the parting winds caress his face as the dagger missed by inches at most. Without so much as a word, the Saiyan slammed his right foot back, launching his left into the sky, his boot colliding with the Assassin's chin from below, his jawbones audibly exploding into bits as he flew into the sky above.

*BOOM

The Servant roared in a fury, his rotating form coming to a halt through sheer force of will, his back facing the sky as his free arm stretched out, ignoring the growing distance between him and the city below, all focus remaining on his foe. His voice escaped, no longer dry and uncaring, but with an anger unmatched by any other, "Enough of this! Writhe in agony!-"

The swordsman watched as the figure's boney hand slammed down along the cloth adorning his concealed arm, ripping it aside into the wind as strands fluttered in all directions. The sound of tearing flesh and opening wounds wailed into the Saiyan's senses as a colossal, tendril-like arm burst into the night sky, glowing a vibrant red from some unknown force. As its loose flesh spun into place, the Assassin cried out into the void, "Zabaniya!"

Within seconds, his arm slammed downward, stretching and contorting at impossible angles as though no bones existed within its nearly infinite confines. His fingers remained outstretched, like the claws of a predator, racing toward the Saiyan's heart; with a single touch, it would all be over.

Time slowed as Trunks exhaled his doubts into the oblivion of battle, closing his eyes it thought as he retreated into himself. Tapping into that wellspring of anger for the Androids and everyone that dared hurt the innocent, flickering back to those peaceful days with his mother and teacher...now gone.

*RRRRRR

The earth itself shook as rocks rose into the air, surrounding the hybrid in a sea of his own creation as he surged to a height he reached long ago, yet refused to stay idle for even a moment. Trunks matched the Servant's cries with a roar of righteous fury as his white energy blasted away in a dazzling stream of yellow, his purple locks shifting into a golden array of color as they shot into the sky above, defying gravity through energy alone.

The sight momentarily blinded the Assassin above as his attack grew closer by the moment; as the glow faded away, Assassin stared at the dwindling light, revealing the warrior's heightened form for the first time in this world's history, a figure unlike any other, a legend which drove a species into utter extinction out of fear for its supposed power, one that hadn't been seen for a thousand years, a Super Saiyan. The dark figure pushed the matter aside as his phantasm lay mere feet from his target below, knowing a transformation would do the child no good; and his finger reached out, he could only solemnly nod; it was ove-

As the ground cracked beneath the hybrid's form, he raised his hands to the sky as ki roared its way to the surface, surrounding him in its golden light as his green eyes flickered to life. Dust exploded around the swordsman in waves as his power condensed into a veritable sphere of light, rising upwards by the second. He didn't wait for his opponent to strike. Trunks didn't care for the honor of battle; survival and victory took precedence. He fired as his voice echoed into the night, "You're finished!"

A beam of golden light rocketed into the sky, overwhelming the layers of ash and waste polluting the atmosphere above as it refused to stop for even a moment, colliding with the Servant's outstretched limb before burning it into nothingness. The Assassin could only gasp in surprise before the attack of pure energy surged across his form, blanketing him in an ethereal light. His screams vanished with the blast as it shot across the city and into the night, burning a momentary sun across the landscape in an otherwise hopeless wasteland as his very existence dispersed into oblivion, not even leaving a trace.

Trunks stared into the distance, watching as his attack faded into the twilight before vanishing entirely. He sighed, his green eyes contrasting with the harsh red glow of his environment; their race was born for violence, conquering planets and destroying entire populations for profit; he knew this from a young age but always strived to be different. To him, killing was inherently an act of evil. No one had the right to snuff another person's life away, but the Saiyan would do whatever was necessary to protect the weak, and if that made him just as irredeemable as the people he fought, then so be it.

His golden hair remained upright as he stood there, each strand swishing about as his ki flowed without worry, his reserves far from empty. Whatever that person or thing was, they weren't even close to his level, but that didn't mean the hybrid would go easy on them; that was a weakness he had learned to avoid from a young age. He extended his senses, knowing for sure that creature wasn't coming back, and yet...as he turned, staring off into the distant horizon, the group in the distance remained in place...with more of those abnormal power levels closing in on their location.

With a shrug of acknowledgment, the Saiyan dropped his stance, letting his power disperse into nothingness as his golden locks drifted into their everyday purple shade, falling with gravity before settling in place. He might have more energy than before, but Trunks wasn't one to risk running dry when he didn't need to, and besides, there was nothing in sig-

*rattle

The hybrid's gaze narrowed, hearing a strange sound echoing from all around him, as though something brittle and hollow was clicking along the solid ground, growing closer by the moment. He could feel nothing from whatever was making the noise as if they had no presence whatsoever, merely a shell...were they hiding their power level?

His narrow blue eyes shifted as rocks and rubble began to shake and fall as something within the structures tried to force its way out. It started with a bleach-white hand shoving a piece of concrete out of the way, revealing something the teen had only seen in the likes of Doctor Gero's lab.

Without so much as a trace of flesh or human skin, the hollow eyes of a human skull met his gaze, shambling down the pile of rocks before slowly trudging its way toward him, followed by dozens on all sides. Each entity wore a battered array of clothing, torn tunics, and rough trousers of various colors and sizes, some modern, some not. The Saiyan's mind flickered through questions at the sight, realizing this entire time he hadn't seen a single body...

Trunks stood there, watching them shamble down the road with an array of ancient weapons, hand-crafted spears, half-broken blades, or some opting to hold nothing at all. Some were the size of adults...some much smaller...he didn't want to think of how it happened. He felt no fear, just a primal sense of anger growing as the horde increased in tandem.

In a surge of ki, the warrior leaped into the sky, hovering above the chaos as the prowling horde below coalesced, some trying to reach him from below, others limply throwing their tools of war at him, only to miss by a wide margin. He gazed out at the city, understanding the direness of the situation that much more as each hollow building added more to the number of these things spread throughout the city.

Whatever was happening here was on par with Gero; that much was sure in the half Saiyan's mind; he couldn't just leave... not after seeing what was happening, and if those things were attracted to their fight... It didn't take much to realize the danger those people off in the distance were in; he slowly floated higher, no longer caring if the enemy spotted him.

Trunks' Capsule Corp jacket shifted in the breeze as he took one last glance at the things below. A single ki blast would wipe them out, but they were once human, and the swordsman wasn't going to live with that on his conscience unless he absolutely had to do it. In a flash of white energy, the time traveler took off through the skies, racing toward what he hoped was another human being.

...

Moments before

A figure skidded back along a tattered and broken landscape with a burst of prana; their metallic boots dug deeper into the earth, tearing up solid rock and asphalt, their momentum grinding to an utter halt as a pair of lavender eyes remained focused yet hazed at the enemy ahead. A pale, gloved hand reoriented itself, shaking away a nonexistent exhaustion. Servants rarely, if ever, got exhausted outside of prolonged conflict, but attrition was an assault on multiple fronts, both physical and mental.

A strand of lilac hair drifted before her vision, only to be swatted away by a free hand before an open palm clasped around the Servant's head, she had only recently come into the fold, and even then, her status as a halfling made actual combat difficult, lacking any information on which heroic spirit had given way to her control, not having a name, nor a noble phantasm to call her own.

She grimaced as the throbbing in her mind refused to simmer down for even a momentary lull; it had been a flow of nonstop battle since they had arrived in this awful place, but what choice was there? Continue or fail, with few options for either her or the Servant's temporary Master. Her thoughts came to a crashing halt as her foe took a step forward; she could only squint to ascertain his features beyond the veil of blackened mist surrounding him.

The man towered over the girl, even without shoes; his colossal figure remained ever steady in the dark night, his silhouette illuminated by the roaring flames of the city once known as Fuyuki. He wore a set of robes one could only deem ancient, their hand-woven nature and simple dyes of yellow and red reflecting a life of solitude and simplicity. His stern face peaked out a veil of cloth wrapped around his entire head, its brown layers contrasting with the surrounding embers. He ignored the burning ground beneath his exposed flesh, taking an audible step forward, crushing a layer of rock into mere pebbles as he spoke with untold certainty. "Tell me, child, how are you to protect anyone whilst you fail to even contend with a monk of Buddha?"

The demi-human reoriented her stance, preparing to brace another relentless assault on her own. Her shield reflected the fiery glow below as it held firm within her grasp, far too large for someone of her stature, yet remaining static all the same. The defender's purple orbs flashed in determination as her mind settled; there was no other option but to put her life on the line, such was the purpose of her creation and the role of any Servant. The warrior sighed away her fatigue, refusing to back down for even a moment, "That may be so...but I can't stand by and do nothing...I may be a failure, but I will not be a coward."

A metallic ball slammed into the earth as the shadowed figure lowered his weapon; its white ivory shaft and sharpened metallic edge reflected all light that dared trespass along its form, contrasting with the darkened environment surrounding the pair. The man hummed in interest, staring at the demi-Servant in a mixture of esteem and disdain, "The path begins and ends with service and generosity...you know as much, yet never consider the alternative...I can see it within your gaze...you remain clouded and distorted, guided by the hand that feeds while the true decision lies in exploring both pathways, yet only one remains visible from your lacking perspective."

The Servant winced as the gashes along her flared up in a fresh wave of pain across her form, and yet she forced her beleaguered body into position, preparing for the next onslaught. Her gentle purple eyes fell low to the ground, unable to even find a response...a retort...anything to deny the man's words...and yet they rang true to her.

The hybrid grimaced as she gazed down at her blackened armor interlaced with layers of purple meshing in self-contempt. She was a Servant, and yet she could do nothing, lacking even a phantasm or the strength to contend on her own... the defender's mind drifted into the veil of obscure doubt and introspection. Did she deserve to be a Servant?... Was she truly a failur-

"Don't listen to him, Mash!"

A voice shook the girl from her thoughts, drifting her focus to the wayside, seeing her Master standing mere feet away from their battleground. His blue eyes flashed to life, intermingled with both concern and fear, yet holding true in an unwavering sense of belief. His tan skin contrasted with the mop of black hair cascading down from above as it swayed in the warm breeze.

The boy took a hesitant step forward, reflective of a peaceful life, never once seeing actual combat until this moment; simulations and training did little good, even more so for a civilian like himself. Despite adorning his Chaldean Mystic Code, appearing as little more than a school uniform of a white dress shirt interlaced with darkened belts along its surface, he stood out as a noncombatant, and yet he found the will to speak regardless of these circumstances. "So what if you don't know everything? Who says you need to hold all the answers?-"

He raised a hand as his red command seal flickered against the night, a series of arrowheads guided forward by a shimmering spear. A shaky smile grew along his face, refusing to acknowledge the fear lurking deep within the core of his being, "You can call yourself whatever you like...but you've kept an idiot like me alive all this time; that says a lot more than his lies ever will, Mash-" His blue orbs shined in utter determination, "I know you can do this."

Mash stared in disbelief as the words settled into place, igniting a gentle fire within her, knowing that she wasn't just fighting for herself, but for her Master and for humanity. The Kyrielight slowly nodded in understanding as her brow furrowed, reorienting her stance, no longer on the defensive but deciding to strike first. A slight smile grew along her otherwise static face as a deep appreciation for someone she had only just met boiled to the surface. Her stance dropped as the defender dug into the ground, her knees bent as her shield remained firmly within her grasp, ready to begin again, "I don't deserve your praise, but...thank you, Senpai," all the while silently hoping she truly could.

*BOOM

The ground erupted in a sea of dust as the Servant took off, her boots dancing along as little more than a blur of black along a charred and broken landscape as her foe spun his blade within his colossal grasp, launching off as each step audibly crashed down into the earth, digging veritable trenches by sheer pressure alone.

Mash sprung into action as they neared, her lilac locks flowing as she lurched back, raising her shield high with both hands as its growing shadow loomed overhead. The hybrid leaped into the air, embers flickering around her form as she raised her weapon high, its dull edge aimed at the man below; the shadowed entity couldn't deflect her strike with such a weapon; his choices remained fixed, either dodge her blow and reignite into a new flurry of combat or face his end, she would prepare for either circumstance, seeing no other alternative in sight.

*RRRRRR

Her focus came to a screeching conclusion as the earth violently shook, with the remnants of buildings breaking down before the planetary might. Hardly a second passed before a giant beam of golden light burst into existence from some unseen location across town, roaring into the night like a flaming sun. The Servant's hairs stood on end, watching the beam soar across the sky as it surged into the unknown abyss above, piercing through the clouds and revealing the infinite stars above before dispersing into oblivion. Moments ticked by as the defender remained in the air, utterly ignorant of gravity taking hold as her gaze remained fixed on the scene above as her mind exploded into a maze of confusion; what sort of power was that...was it a phantas-

"You fool!"

Reality surged back into place in an instant as the Servant's gaze flashed toward her target, racing toward her at a pace far exceeding her expectations, a few moments of distraction utterly destroying her plan into nonexistence. The warrior slammed her shield down, its point aiming to crush the blackened figure below as it surged with untold speed. Mash ran through new plans within her lacking tactical mind, hoping there was still a way-

Her purple eyes could only widen as the man lurched back, kicking his feet into the air as his momentum flew his arrow-like form beneath her shield. As he passed beneath the defender, his assortment of weapons of all shapes and sizes, spears, tridents, the list went on, dragged along the earth as he slammed a hand into the ground, his form rotating before launching upward with inhuman strength, his feet colliding with the girl's exposed stomach, launching her skyward as spittle flew from her mouth.

The shrouded Lancer surged into motion, slamming down as dust billowed around his form, raising his arm high as his grip reoriented along the shaft of his voulge, his tan skin drifting along its white surface with practiced ease. His voice breached the silence as the boy in front of him tried to back away, stumbling along an unseen patch of rocks and onto the rocks below, "For those who cannot see past the struggles from within-"

Mash spun uncontrollably through the air, and yet she fought through the pain in her core, rotating along with her momentum, facing the ground below. Her eyes widened at the sight, seeing her Master utterly helpless as his form shook in fear. Even as she rocketed downward to meet her foe, a deep dread overwhelmed her as the man slid his left foot back as his weapon aimed for its target. Panic overwhelmed the Servant; she wasn't fast enough...she gasped as a realization settled in; the defender couldn't do a thing but cry out as he spoke, "there is only despair," before he threw with everything he had.

*BOOM

The blade surged through the air, rocketing towards its target as he scrambled to get out of the way to no avail, trying to get up only to stumble and slide along his palms yet again, panic overwhelming all sense of logic and reason in a chaos of instinctive action. The sound of bone crunching pierced through the Servant's enhanced senses as it made contact, and yet; Mash didn't look, only feeling a deep rage for the man below her.

She spun in the air, rotating along with her tool of war following in her wake before rushing into an upright position as its edge rocketed downward. The Servant could only scream in a mixture of anger and grief as its metal edge crashed onto the man's head, with him only able to gaze up before everything went dark. Blood splattered into the air, dancing along the battlefield intermingled with chunks of bone and brain matter, and yet she didn't stop.

As if by instinct, the shield rose and fell, again and again, crushing the dead figure in a symphony of grief, the splatters only matched by her cries until the girl went still. Moments ticked by as she stood atop a broken corpse, watching as flames overtook its being, slowly dissolving it into nonexistence, and yet...her mind could only think of one person, "Senpai!"

The defender slowly gazed to the side, seeing her Master laying motionless where he fell, gasping for breath as a mixture of blood and spit splattered from his mouth with each attempt. Her gaze dropped, seeing the elongated weapon embedded within his chest, with only its white pole visible as the blade tore through into the other side as visceral liquid trickled around him.

Mash's grip faltered as her hand withdrew from her only means of defense as the giant shield remained entrenched into the ground on which it stood, even as the remnants of where her foe once stood vanished into oblivion. She ran with everything in her being, sliding to a kneel as she gripped her Master's hand, panic running through her as the teen looked at her with pleading eyes. This was all her fault; the man had said she wasn't ready...but..."

Her lilac orbs shook in terror as she watched the boy grow paler by the second as his breaths became shallow; he tried to speak, only to fall into another coughing spree. He was the only one to reassure her time and again no matter how much of a failure she was...and Mash had failed...No...there had to be something she could do...anything. "Senpai...just hold on... I can try...-" Only for his grasp to loosen as his stare never relented, not in anger, nor disappointment, just...fear of what was to come. And with a final lurch for breath, the boy went still, his head falling back toward the ground as his hand slowly slipped along her pale skin, falling to the wayside.

A silence overcame the Servant as she stared down at the boy in a sense of utter shock, seeing a glassy haze overwhelm his once deep blue eyes. The defender shook, her voice almost unable to escape as she raised a hand in uncertainty, not truly knowing what she was doing anymore. "Senpai?..." but as reality settled into the girl's mind, her fear surged to the surface, blanketing her entire form as she gently scooped the teen's body into a hug as the embedded blade followed suit, with her understanding that she was utterly alone in this hellish place...and it was all her fault. And as the ash loomed overhead, the hybrid merely sat there, accepting the inevitable end with the loss of her Master, so far from home, in a time not her own, without a soul in sight.

...

Minutes Later

The city loomed down below as a Saiyan lost in time flew above the clouds of pollutants, his ki blasting away any soot that tried to land along his ever-moving form. Trunks could only grimace as he stared down at the former urban center; it was always a sad thing to behold, he had grown up in a world with nothing but destruction as far as the eye could see, but still, the remnants of civilization persisted long after the occupants had vanished, just as they did here.

Every structure held meaning to someone at one point, where you grew up, where you went to school, and the places you spent time with your loved ones. Trunks inherently knew humans give locations value, not the other way around; humans weren't earthlings for the sole reason that they were born there. No, people interacting with one another, exploring their surroundings, forging bonds on a common land that was far more precious than a ball of rock. It brought out a sense of anger intermingled with the fatigue of a life of war within the young man, and yet he flew onwards, clinging to that hope of seeing another living person.

The hybrid wasn't someone to give in quickly, and so long as someone was still alive in places like this, Trunks would keep fighting for as long as he could, no matter the odds. Maybe it was a complex of his, but the swordsman didn't care; he wanted to do what was right, to protect the legacy left to him by his teacher. But before the teen's mind could wander into its endless depths of reflection, he sensed a presence nearby, but as he continued to search, where once there were several, only one remained. A sense of dread overcame the warrior before he took off at greater speeds through the winds, leaving a trail of white energy behind him as he flew into the distance.

As the Saiyan glided toward the ground, he spotted a figure amidst the blackened rubble surrounding them, too far to make out any features besides a blob of bright lavender. With a sigh, his power faded away, slowly lowering the hybrid to the ground as his boots made contact, crushing a pile of ash beneath his form. The warrior tilted his head in confusion, only seeing the person's pale back and a mess of color he saw from high above as the figure refused to even acknowledge his presence...was something wrong?

Trunks took a step forward, then another, and yet the person remained unmoving; there was no way they didn't hear him; the Saiyan was anything but quiet with that landing. As a sense of concern overcame the teen, he slowly walked ahead, momentarily stopping to observe a fallen shield resting amidst the waste; appearing like a cross atop a ring of metal, he disregarded the object with a shrug, human life taking far more precedence in his mind.

He was never very good with his words, and having few people, if any, to talk to growing up didn't do much to help in that aspect. The time traveler could count the people he knew on one hand before going to the past to meet the others. He rubbed his tan chin in thought, trying to think of what to say before pushing the matter aside; better to do something than nothing. "Hey..."

The person didn't respond, merely taking short breaths as their stare remained downward. He took another step forward, seeing a blotch of lavender hair swaying in the breeze as their owner's pale skin contrasted with the hellscape surrounding them, wearing some strange plated armor the teen couldn't comprehend. The Saiyan disregarded caution, trudging toward the person, needing to ensure nothing was wrong, even if it meant getting in their personal space. "I'm here to help...are you-"

But as he approached, the figure shifted, slowly turning to face him, revealing a pale, tear-stained face as fresh pools fell from a pair of lilac eyes. His mind flashed in understanding, realizing they were a girl, but why was she-... oh...

Beneath her tiny form, rested an unmoving body, a boy around his age, with a thin build, wearing some strange school uniform, the warrior held no chance of recognizing. His eyes remained closed as the girl's gloved hand ran through his black hair again and again; Trunks could only sigh at the sight. He'd seen it more times than he could count; it was always the same, the hybrid wasn't fast enough, and someone lost someone they cared about...she even had that same dull look in her eyes, staring at him as though he didn't actually exist like she was somewhere else entirely...shit.

There really wasn't much you could say in these situations, but this was the first person the Saiyan had encountered, he needed answers, but there was a time and place for that. Trunks wasn't so cold-hearted that he'd interrogate some poor girl who was going through what he endured time and again. The hybrid tried to take a step forward, to say something to remedy this situation, only for the girl to pull the body closer, interrupting him entirely, her voice erupting not in fear or anger but a deep sadness, as though she didn't care what happened anymore, nor really understood what she saw, "...A human?.."

Mash stared up with clouded eyes in complete confusion; the city was entirely gone, overrun with the living dead and demonic Servants in a Grail War gone wrong, and yet...there stood a person...was she seeing things? Had she finally crossed the threshold like the other failed experiments?

But as moments ticked by, a flash of realization overcame the Servant as she observed his form, her focus landing along his bright blue jacket, spotting a symbol along its short sleeve, a series of black and white rings forming a series of the letter C. As her shaky gaze drifted lower, she mouthed the words 'Capsule Corp,' something she had never heard of in her confined life, sparking a sense of turmoil within her exhausted mind. Was this real? But why was a human her-

With a sigh, the Saiyan slowly crouched, meeting the Servant at eye level as she adjusted to his presence; death was hardly a new thing in Trunks' life; he knew in these moments, you had to be patient and wait for things to settle. He rested a wrist along his knee as his tan digits dangled to the ground below before he spoke, "I have to say, it's nice seeing another person...was starting to think I was the only one left out here."

The Servant stared at the teen's narrow blue eyes as a sense of worry overcame her, not for herself, but for the human standing mere feet away; despite enduring so much, some aspects of her personality shined through regardless. Mash slowly adjusted her former Master's body, gently sitting up as his head rested along her lap; she sighed, suppressing a wave of emotion before gazing at the person before her, "it's not safe...what are you doing out here?"

A hum escaped the Saiyan as he rocked back and forth on his heels, his purple locks swishing along with the motion, both seeming to forget the inferno surrounding them for the briefest of moments as they sought different answers. Trunks clicked his tongue in thought, gazing up to the clouds above before coming back down, "Me? I guess I'm trying to figure out what happened here and how to put an end to it..." A somber look overcame his features before he continued, glancing toward the pale body below the girl, "looks like you've been through it too, huh? I'm...sorry...about your friend."

Mash didn't quite know what to think of the word, she had only just met Gudao, and yet...his death was her fault...the duty of a Servant was to protect and obey their Master, and she failed him. The defender shook her head in denial before speaking, "We were going to investigate the source, but there were too many of those...things...we didn't stand a chance on our own."

Trunks raised a hand, catching the girl's focus as he interrupted her thoughts, "You mean those people covered in smoke? Yeah...I met one earlier, but he can't hurt anyone now." The implication went unsaid, but something told the warrior the girl would understand what he meant; call it intuition, but on a battlefield, some things just clicked in a nonverbal way.

A pair of lilac eyes narrowed before widening in surprise, staring at the boy as though she didn't believe what he was saying. That shouldn't be possible; a human being would have no chance of harming a Servant in any way; there wasn't just a feasible method...but- a flicker of life returned to the defender as a spark of hope ignited within her, feint and yet clung to it all the same. "You killed one?-" getting a nod, Mash scooted upwards, her uncovered back grazing the rocks resting behind her downed form, "how?"

Trunks paused for a moment before shrugging his concerns away, not really seeing a point in hiding things if it meant getting answers of his own; there was a tact to it, though he was never one to reveal his entire hand at once; giving an example meant no harm. The Saiyan slowly raised his dangling hand, opening his palm as he flooded ki into the limb, a gentle hum breaking out as a golden orb formed in his hand as its light illuminated their darkened surroundings.

As the glow reflected in the defender's eyes, she stared into it, getting a sense of deja vu, as though she had seen it before...it clicked in her head. She dragged a hand along the ground, using it to sit fully upright, gently realigning her fallen Senpai's body, "That light...from earlier...that was you?" Getting a nod of confirmation as the orb within the Saiyan's grasp dissipated, drawing her gaze upward to meet his stare, she spoke once more, "then...are you a magus?"

The swordsman raised a brow, never hearing that kind of word outside of those old cartoons his mom used to put on for him as a kid. For a moment, he even thought the girl was trying to mess with him, but that look in her eyes...she was serious...wasn't she? Trunks sighed, "Look, I have no idea what that means, but if you're asking if I can hold my own?" He nodded, as his blue orbs narrowed in utter resolve, "I can handle myself."

Mash's mind ran through question after question on the unknown teen before disregarding them for the time being, knowing she couldn't afford to waste any time; what she was about to suggest would get the Servant in more trouble than she could fathom, working with someone not aligned with their organization screamed absurdity at the mere thought...but what choice was there? Dr. Roman was out of reach, and the Director had disappeared during her fight with Lancer...with no chain of command and no means of getting enough mana to find somewhere to make the request, the choice remained hers..."Then...will you help me finish this?"

As the defender slowly stood, the Saiyan matched her pace, with her placing the boy's body gently on the ground before regaining her composure. Trunks idly wondered who designed a faulty set of exposed armor like hers before shoving it aside as she spoke once more, "As a Servant, I can't fight without a source of energy; I need a Master to provide mana through a contract...if you make one with me, I'll tell you what I can."

Trunks raised a brow, crossing his arms over his chest; none of what she was saying made any sense to him, and he wasn't one to go into something blind for a small gain; he needed information. "And what does that mean exactly? Am I just a walking battery for you?"

The girl ran a gloved hand over her face, wiping away her mental anguish as her internal gears formed coherent thoughts once more. "I promise, it'll be temporary, and if you really wish, you'll have the command seals to force me to obey as my Master...that way...Senpai's death wouldn't have been for nothing."

The Saiyan took a slow breath; he had seen that look before, the fire burning within their eyes from the depths of their soul; hell, he lived through that same feeling, the desire for revenge was a powerful thing, driving you to finish what someone else started, to bring an end to the chaos... Trunks could empathize with that more than the strange girl could ever know but...controlling someone else? That wasn't happening. His gaze steeled as he lowered his arms, speaking not from a request but a condition, "Fine, but you're not calling me your Master...it's weird."

Mash tilted her head in confusion, not really understanding the issue with the word itself, but it was hardly a sacrifice to lose the term if it meant avenging her fallen Master. She slowly nodded, her short violet locks swishing as she clenched her fists in righteous determination, pushing her grief down for the time being. But as she stood there, a question popped into her mind, "Then...what do I call you?"

The Saiyan slowly raised his right arm as the embers danced around his form, illuminating a bulked frame forged through years of conflict and hard work. His blue eyes flickered beneath the glow, their static color contrasting with the roaring red inferno surrounding them, "Trunks."

The Servant stared at his outstretched hand for a moment before slowly lifting her own, reaching out as her gloved digits met their counterpart in a soft shake, a meeting between two strangers settled into an alliance for the sake of bringing back the peace, with neither truly knowing a thing about the other, yet deciding to cooperate all the same. She could only give a small yet gentle smile, "Mash...please take care of me, Senpai."

As the two confirmed their agreement, the demi-Saiyan's gaze drifted toward his hand as a strange sensation overwhelmed it. He watched in fascination as a streak of red coursed its way over his tan skin, etching itself into the surface as though it had always been there, vibrantly glowing as it remained firmly in place. Trunks could only smirk at the sight, a familiar red sphere with two small stars interspersed throughout the shape...he could work with that.

...

And that's a wrap for the time being. Hopefully, we've established Future Trunks as a character worth studying as we develop both him and those surrounding him for the time being.

While generally reserved for the author's notes, I really don't have much else to add; thanks go to my beta reader Chris for making all this possible; take it easy, and I'll see y'all in the next edition.