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.

2. A Dim Horizon

Welcome back to another edition.

I'll keep this section brief since I usually reserve the author's notes for the end, but I wanted to thank all of you for taking an interest in this story. Future Trunks has always been a favorite character of mine, and I'm glad to see people agree with that sentiment.

To quickly address something regarding power scaling, I've noted that Trunks won't be limited in any way, shape, or form, but that includes the Servants as well; neither side will have a hindrance, as usual, in my work, striving for the best of both worlds. Some of you mentioned that he would be very overpowered in the Fate universe, and I'm entirely aware of that. Still, it's a damned if you do, damned if you don't situation, and honestly, I want a narrative where a Master can fight side by side with their Servants, and who better than a Saiyan?

There remain a lot of factors that are up in the air due to the freshness surrounding the story. One of you asked about the possibility of a pairing which I'm not opposed to, but keep in mind, I prefer narratives with a slow burn and lots of development and relationship building, so expect that to be on the backdrop for a long while until the plot is well underway.

I'm looking forward to developing many bonds and dynamics as this series goes on, so give me some time to spread my wings and see what works. Definitive statements are always a bit iffy for me because I let the character decide what to do rather than what I want, so we need to establish chemistry and go from there. We'll get there someday; I hope you're looking forward to it!

Quick thing to note, I'm sticking with canon for the overwhelming majority of the story, but expect changes caused by both my main character and the occasional flavor on my part. As a writer, I strive for genuine story-telling and utilize how my main character would react to push my narrative forward, but I will occasionally make changes where necessary, so keep that in mind.

With everything said and done, let's dive right into this and make some of that happen.

...

"It is not a sin to fight for the right cause. There are those who words alone will not reach." -Android 16

...

Streetlights passed by in an uncertain blur, their decayed structures looming overhead, once a beacon of modern civilization, illuminating the darkened night with their synthetic glow, their audible hum once an annoyance to many as they flickered to life, now a distant memory for a long since annihilated populace. Such was the nature of human life, revolving around the maintenance and growth of an infrastructure few took into consideration, now broken and battered, their remains were strewn about a dead world, without a soul to retain their meaning, merely falling away into the veil of historical obscurity as a war raged on for what remained.

A yellow boot slammed down atop a jagged piece of concrete, intermingled with slagged pieces of rebar jutting out at various angles, disintegrating the material on impact. A pair of blue eyes gazed out into the distant horizon, trailing along the winding pathways of coursing water traversing their way through civilization and onto different prospects. There was a beauty to its serenity; mankind could channel and direct the flow of nature however they pleased, and yet it would persevere long beyond their existence, simply existing beyond meaning.

Whether you were talking about a city, the planet, or even the universe itself, there was always the steady flow of time; powers would rise and fall into nothing. A people could stand at the precipice of greatness, their continuity assured so long as the stars burned bright in the sky before falling into the dustbin of history; it was a fact of life; nothing lasted forever.

His species once stood at the forefront of all life, the greatest warrior race to ever exist, with a single member capable of wiping out an entire world, earning their place amidst the flock of other killers. They stood in the extreme, reflecting the cold nature of cognitive existence, conquering and enslaving peoples across the galaxy for profit to ensure their own prosperity, with not a single care for the consequences of their actions. Yet, those very legacies proved their downfall.

A myth, a simple legend, hearsay at best of a form beyond comprehension, a being not seen for a thousand years amidst a race of men and women utterly devoted to their emperor. Yet it was their very nature that brought about the end. No matter their commitment, the Saiyans were only obedient so long as one could retain their position at the top of their proverbial pile of power struggles, and if one were to surpass that threshold? It spelled the end of everything the Empire stood for, and so, with a simple flick of a finger, a race disappeared from existence, their last members scattered across the stars they once traveled.

Trunks could only stare up at the colossal bridge ahead as a myriad of fires burned across its paved smooth red surface, casting a shadow over the waters below as they ran underneath. Where ships once traveled, bringing goods and passengers from far-off lands, lay a mixture of metal, glass, and the destroyed remnants of civilization.

The moon shined overhead, cascading an array of dim light over the warrior as he slowly marched down a battered and broken footpath, missing tiles and entire chunks of land, much like the rest of this former urban center. He sighed, releasing a slow but firm breath into the hot atmosphere surrounding him, long since used to the feeling of isolation and dread in these places.

The hybrid had grown up in a world in such a state, with every trace of human life utterly destroyed in the span of a few years, with Earth's warriors vanishing one by one, falling before a pair of seemingly unbeatable foes. He was the last of a species, and yet he knew nearly nothing about them, only remembering the occasional story from his mother. It wasn't much surprise that the swordsman considered himself an Earthling more than a Saiyan, but there was always a sadness to it all, knowing he was going to be the last of his people in the universe, a silent end to a ferocious people.

Trunks took a slow breath of polluted air, pushing the thoughts out of his mind as he ignored that strained feeling in his lungs. His gaze listed to the side as hardened metal clanged against asphalt, followed by a muffled apology, spotting a mop of lavender hair disappearing and reappearing as a giant shield bobbed up and down, shifting into place.

The Saiyan had almost forgotten she was there; his "Servant," Mash, the two had hardly spoken since making their agreement, with her giving him a general run down, saying something about not having enough clearance to tell him much besides the basics, not that he minded. Trunks was always more inclined toward the mechanical aspect of things; he broke things down, figured out their parts, and reassembled them into a coherent picture.

He slowly glanced toward his hand, observing the vibrantly red lines traveling along his tan skin, forming a veritable circle with familiar stars strewn about the surface. A Master provided mana, and the Servant fought for them, and if you replaced the energy source with ki, it still seemed to work just fine; it was energy at the end of the day.

There was always the ever-looming question of why he decided to make a contract at all, and the warrior couldn't say he needed Mash's help because he didn't. But just leaving the poor girl there seemed wrong on so many levels; it reminded him of what happened when he wasn't there for those in need, and regardless of trust, he couldn't abandon someone, especially after what she went through.

A hum escaped his silent form as he marched onwards through a broken world, uncertainty driving the teen's mind into a madness of not knowing what to say. He had buried the Servant's friend out of respect, not wanting to leave someone out in the open, that sort of thing he was used to; it became all too common in the future to comfort a grieving parent or child, but this? Trunks had very little idea of how to relate to anyone his age. He had spent half his life fighting and the other half with a number of people he could count on one hand; social skills took time to come to him, but he still had to try. "So-"

As though she had been in a hazed stupor, the Servant took a moment to react, her lilac eyes slowly shifting to the side as she idly lowered her giant shield to the side, getting a better look at her new Master. He was well aware of how frazzled she was, so anything about her friend was off the table, and besides, they had more pressing matters it was another sad reality of war; it waits for no man, but still, this felt like something he needed to address somehow. He shook the thought away, pressing onwards as he gazed out at the distant horizon ahead, "this boss of yours...what's she like?"

The defender reached a gloved hand up, its black material contrasting with her pale skin as she tapped it along her chin in thought. "The Director?..." Getting a nod in response, she paused, carefully considering her words for some odd reason or other; her lightly scrunched face reflected a sourness the Servant hoped to avoid before speaking once more. "She means well...but she can be...extreme."

The Saiyan nodded along, lazily kicking a pebble into the horizon with little effort as the bridge drew closer by the moment. As the words settled into his mind, an image of his father flickering before his eyes for the briefest of moments, "I think I know the type; either you go along with what they want, or nothing happens."

The shield wielder hummed in agreement before a slight grimace of guilt grew along her face as though she had said something wrong. "It's not really her fault...she's under a lot of stress, so I don't-"

Within a moment, the hybrid came to a stop, interrupting the defender mid-sentence as his blue orbs narrowed, staring at the girl in a mixture of frustration and confusion, his tone reflecting a sense of absolute disbelief, "Mash, she left you for dead..."

With the flip of her lilac locks, the summon shook her head in denial, slowly raising a clenched fist toward her chest as she spoke, "It's not like that...as a Servant, it's my job to protect my Master...and I-"

She briefly glared down at her hands in self-contempt, her gaze traveling along the length of her shield before meeting her Master's gaze. They stood there in utter silence amidst the chaos and carnage of a distant conflict still raging on within the depths of the urban center's remains. The Chaldean stared at the teen, her dull purple orbs reverberating a sense of utter grief as she found her words before speaking, "I couldn't even do that right...-"

The defender turned, slowly striding toward the water's edge, standing atop a platform of rock as she focused on her reflection in the depths below. Mash's mind refused to let go of that moment, watching the boy who believed in her die right before her eyes. It drove fear and sadness into her heart, unlike anything else in her short-lived life. "I don't blame her for abandoning a failure like me... I wasn't ready for this."

Trunks watched as the girl stared into the gentle waves below; he clenched a fist tight as old memories surged to the surface, only to vanish into a veil of understanding; it was something that took him years to achieve. The hybrid could never truly let go of his anger, he hated the Androids more than anything else, and the world would only seem better after they were dead. Still, the fighter learned to control himself and direct those emotions into efficiency, driving his strikes that much further, finding new strength each day. And as he stared at the girl reliving his nightmare before his eyes, something in him knew she needed to learn this lesson before it was too late.

Everything about this situation was alien to the warrior, the irony not being lost on him for a moment, but he pushed the commentary aside. Mash was a complete stranger; they knew nothing about each other, but he needed to know where she stood, and finding out on a battlefield was the worst-case scenario. Trunks was cautious, but that doesn't mean he didn't feel terrible for her, but loss was an inevitability in war, and they needed to move forward. He remained still, giving the Servant her space as he broke her mental tirade, his voice traveling the distance through the silence, "Look...none of us are ever ready for a life like this, you can train all you want, but nothing compares to the real thing."

As her lilac orbs slowly shifted, meeting his static blue gaze, a look of calm understanding overcame the swordsman's features as he spoke with utter certainty. "What happened to you wasn't fair...-" he slowly waved a hand across the city skyline, where high-rise buildings once stood now remained a barren horizon with plumes of smoke stretching into the heavens above, where people once worked and lived, now gone. His brow furrowed as a strand of purple hair flickered over his line of sight while he spoke, "-it never is... I know what you're going through; I've been there...it loops in your head over and over, and all you can do is wonder what could have happened if you had done something different."

Mash stared at her temporary Master, scanning for any sign of deceit, yet finding none, only feeling a flicker of empathy in his words as an understanding overcame her mind, interlaced with a curiosity for the unknown standing before her. "...You lost someone too?"

The hybrid grimaced at the question, sighing away his frustrations into the heated atmosphere; loss couldn't describe what happened to his world, but him? Trunks struggled to even go a day without thinking of someone or something that vanished, never to be seen again, and without the dragon balls, it would stay that way...death became a very real thing in his life, and it always loomed overhead. He slowly crossed his arms, holding them over his chest as he nodded along with her words, "Yeah...and in my experience...the more good you try to do, the more your loved ones disappear, and it never gets any easier."

A frown grew across the defender's pale face as she stared toward the ground, her thoughts wandering back to that boy, losing her first Master in the blink of an eye, and yet... her head slowly rose as the moonlight shined overhead, illuminating her form against the billowing flames of the city behind, "I wouldn't even call us friends...but it was still my fault, I couldn't focus on what was right in front of me, and he's dead because of my mistake."

Her shield clanged against the hard ground below as she leaned her head atop its surface, taking slow breaths as her lavender hair trickled over the surface. The Chaldean stood there, trying to force away a tidal wave of guilt to no avail, hardly able to stand as she questioned herself again and again, "How can I call myself a Servant if I can't even protect one person?"

"Don't let go of that feeling."

The Servant paused as a deep confusion overran her character, her stare remaining fixated on the ground as her Master gazed at the stars above, wondering if any of them were still watching over him after all this time. Trunks lightly shifted his boot, kicking a small pebble into the air and onto his waiting grasp, idly rotating the material in his hand as he continued. "He might be dead, and I know it hurts to think about... but that sadness...the anger...all of it, hold on to it and remember what happened when you were weak."

He clenched his fist tight, crushing the object into little more than dust as the defender slowly gazed up from her stupor, as a trail of mist trickled into the wind. "I can't promise you that the pain will disappear, it won't...but you can use it to get stronger so that you'll never have to add on to that grief-" an image of his friend's scarred face came to mind, smiling at him from some distant memory, driving new motivation into his person. "you're still alive for a reason, Mash, don't waste it hating yourself...otherwise, his death would have been for nothing."

The hybrid slowly turned toward the distance, feeling a small but stable power level only a short walk away, his expanded senses knowing just where to look for the answers he needed. And as he stared off into that broken horizon, he spoke as the Servant slowly stood upright once more, "No matter what you feel, your enemies won't hesitate to take advantage of it and cut you down... I know I'm asking a lot from you, but we can end this right here and now so that no one else has to die to this insanity."

As a fire slowly lit within the defender, she rose to her feet, leaning atop her colossal shield as its frame dug into the earth, staring at the anomaly as a question came to mind. "Then... please tell me, why are you doing this? Why do you want to help me?"

A somber look overcame the Saiyan as his blue eyes briefly pooled into a pit of sadness before reforming into their hardened form, a trait achieved through a lifetime of war and suffering. As energy flowed within his system, his mind settled, "I know what it's like to be weak...to be helpless while everything burns around you-" his brow furrowed in anger as his gaze narrowed before he pushed on, "and I swore that day that I would never be a bystander again, so I'll fight as many battles as I need to if it means saving even one person from a life like this."

Mash lightly nodded in agreement as she forced herself to move, reaching out with her right as she clasped her shield once more, raising it to the sky as she slowly walked toward her Master. The feeling wouldn't go away, but she wouldn't let it control her either, not while there was still something she could do. With a light smile, she continued her pace as the swordsman followed, "Then, as your Servant, I'll have to walk by your side, Senpai."

The Saiyan shook his head at the comment, not really comfortable with the idea of controlling someone else. But as they walked, the warrior couldn't help but notice the stark contrast in her behavior, with a small stride where there was once a slow march onwards. He sighedbefore pushing the matter away, figuring he could deal with the nonsense for the time being before going on his way.

As the minutes ticked by in a stern silence, the wasteland blurred into an incoherent mess, where once there was a diverse array of modern life, now stood the same piles of burning wreckage, no longer discernable from one another, merely laying where they fell upon the earth. The hybrid couldn't help but stare at the girl's shield as its metallic frame bobbed up and down along with her steps. It was a bizarre weapon to use in a fight; at first, the fighter chalked it up to his preferred choice of weapon, but still, what use was something that massive?

His life was a flow of nonstop warfare, flickering between the remains of a dead civilization at speeds beyond human comprehension, in a mixture of martial arts and unfathomable power, unleashed as a myriad of supernatural abilities. Still, this place...the way they fought...it seemed slow.

As the pair continued on their way, passing by a shattered passenger van as the bridge drew closer by the moment, he couldn't help but think back to that creature he encountered little more than a few hours ago. Throwing knives and sloppy movements, it didn't just feel archaic; no, this was something else...like there was a different mode of thought behind whatever was going on here.

He raised a tan hand, rubbing a finger along his chin in thought; it started with the power levels here; they felt inconsistent, rising and falling without so much as a hint of logic behind it; maybe he was missing something? But what? His blue orbs shifted to the Servant in front of him as his senses extended into the distance... so that's it.

Mash didn't have a signature of her own, at least not one he could detect; no, she was giving off his instead...that felt like a given, albeit a far smaller amount; she was his "Servant" for better or worse, it made sense that she got some energy from him... then what about the others? Why did they feel different, like there was something muddling with their output...he could surmise that their strength came from the same thing, with no discernable differences between the scattered entities throughout the city; that was the only option. He frowned in annoyance; there had to be some way to find out mor-

"Senpai?"

His focus shifted back into reality as his ally glanced at him from over her exposed shoulder, their eyes meeting as she stared at him for a brief moment, humming as though something was bothering her. He tilted his head in confusion, scanning the horizon for some unseen threat, yet finding nothing before responding, "something wrong?"

With a shake of her head, the Servant's lilac locks flickered against the night breeze as her pace gradually slowed, matching her Master's as the two walked side by side. The defender's gaze spread across the horizon as she spoke, flickering her cluttered thoughts into words, "speaking of the Director, how do you know where she is in all...this?"

It didn't take more than a moment for the Saiyan to understand what she meant; for any average person, it would be the most painful scavenger hunt to ever occur, find a single woman in the midst of a warzone, with monsters and creatures of all makes and sizes wandering through the remains. Yet, that insanity was exactly what he did time and again in his world.

He took a moment to respond, flowing with the way of caution. Trunks didn't know Mash as a person, nor did she really say much about that organization she worked for; it was all up in the air. He wouldn't deny she seemed like a kind person, but would he show his hand at once? No, there was being decent, and there was being stupid, but fair was fair.

With a shrug, the hybrid slowly let out a breath, utterly ignorant of the falling embers, as their glowing forms danced across his skin to no avail before flickering away into the wild winds once more. "Every living thing has a presence; you, me, even plants and animals...just have to know how to look for it."

The defender nodded along, not really understanding the how but gradually comprehending a bit more about the strange teen beside her...and yet, questions always lingered in her inexperienced mind, whether it was due to her sheltered upbringing or just a genuine sense of curiosity, the Chaldean both wanted and needed to know more about her new Master. "Was that how you found us...back then?"

Trunks hummed in acknowledgment, gently running a hand through his long purple locks as he unconsciously readjusted them out of the way, "Yeah, back then, you two had the same presence; it felt like I was seeing double..." the time traveler lightly chuckled, his chest rising and falling, "well, I still am I guess."

He paused as a strange look overcame the defender's features as she bit into her cheek, humming away some uncertainty or other as she stared into his eyes incredulously as an awkwardness overcame her person, "If you want...you can borrow my glasses..."

A moment passed in silence as the Saiyan struggled to understand what she was getting at before it dawned on him, clicking together within the confines of his mind. He chuckled, waving a hand in dismissal, "that's not what I mean...it's like..."

He hummed into the night, staring at his palm as it opened and closed, an old habit whenever he actually had to think on something; it just wasn't necessary to put it into words; sensing ki was more intuitive for him than nearly anything else...how to describe it? With a roll of his eyes, the warrior decided on the best strategy that came to mind, wing it. "it's like a reflection of who you are, the things that make you up as a person, memories, the way you act, it all leaves a signature... you have one too... it's just...hidden behind mine."

The hybrid slowly raised a hand, running it along the back of his head as he stared up at the clouds and away from the insanity below for just a moment, admiring the ethereal sky in all its blank glory. "Honestly, sensing it is like looking in a fun house mirror."

The Servant raised a gloved hand as its black coating, interlaced with layers of purple, passed through her lilac locks as she stared at her ally, a small smile slowly growing across her pale face, "Us looking alike?... You might need a haircut to pull that off, Senpai."

Trunks rolled his eyes before refocusing on the road ahead as a smirk of his own appeared for just a moment. Despite the circumstances, for the briefest of moments, things didn't seem all that bad, meeting someone new in a place like this, but still, the Saiyan shook his head in denial, "In your dreams."

...

Minutes later

The Saiyan gazed up at the looming bridge overhead, still standing firm despite the devastation surrounding it on all sides, the sight igniting some semblance of positivity in his being. Even if it was small, pieces of humanity always remained on some level, and so long as even one person was still alive, the hybrid would fight on with everything he had... speaking of people-

His narrow blue eyes shifted, following his senses as they traveled across their surroundings, tracing a feint yet stable power level until settling as he slowly approached a support beam coated in a layer of rubble along its sides. "We're here."

His companion glanced around in confusion, idly turning in all directions as her shield followed in her wake, yet finding no trace of anyone besides themselves and the distant crackling of bones along hardened roadways, sending a new flurry of concern into the Servant. Mash slowly looked back toward her ally, "Are you sure she's-"

Eh?

The defender's thoughts came to a crashing halt as her Master approached a colossal piece of debris, a hardened chunk of concrete intermingled with metallic beams jutting out of the surface. The support beam audibly buckled and creaked as the object leaned against it, having to weigh at least a few hundred pounds, and yet...without so much as a shrug, the teen gripped an edge with a single hand and launched it over his shoulder and into the distance.

*FWING

Her lavender eyes trailed its path as the artificial meteor sailed through the sky, tearing through the air at untold speeds, reaching an apex before gravity took hold, yanking the giant stone downward and into the urban depths below, crashing with a visible ploom of smoke wafting upwards.

*BOOM

She just stood there for a moment, staring in disbelief at the sight as dust dispersed across the skyline; for a Servant, something like that was hardly even worth note; they were stronger than an average human being, and that was practically common knowledge, but even then...how could he-

"...Mash?"

As the defender slowly turned, with questions soaring through her mind, they ground to a halt as she shifted from her temporary Master toward the metal beam, meeting a familiar pair of amber orbs as they squinted into the dim night light from her unearthed hiding spot. The Chaldean wasted no time, dropping her shield as she gave the woman a once over, "Director, are you alright...are you hurt anywhere?"

Trunks idly studied the scene with a strange sense of confusion; why did everyone in this place have the most bizarre clothing he'd ever seen? The supposed Director was wearing what he could only imagine was a school uniform, with a white dress overlaid with a black dress jacket intermingled with what he could only guess was gold plating atop a mixture of yellow and red splotches, seeming more like an aristocrat than a fighter... but as he shifted between Mash having the least protective armor to ever exist and her white-haired boss, the hybrid could only wonder if that a common thing here.

*ruffle-ruffle

But as the time traveler ignored the woman getting visibly angrier by the moment at his "Servant's" fussing, his gaze lowered, catching sight of something slowly moving around, his focus spotting...something, sitting on the Director's lap. As if on cue, a pair of fluffy white ears perked up, as if it knew someone was watching it before slowly rising up with a stretch, with a set of tiny dark blue orbs observing him all the same. "Fou?"

The sight brought a small smile to the teen's hardened features as the little animal hopped off the woman's lap without her notice, being far too occupied shouting obscenities over Mash's "doting." Trunks didn't quite know what he was looking at, with the creature looking like a fluffy white squirrel wearing a tiny aquamarine cloak held together by a red tie. Seeing strange things like this hardly bothered him, considering he came from a world of dinosaurs and giant monsters; some weird pet wasn't going to get on the Saiyan's nerves. He slowly crouched as the thing approached him, its little paws lightly plopping along the hard ground. The warrior slowly reached out with an open palm.

Fou idly observed the stranger as it approached, sniffing into the air before tilting its head in confusion, getting a scent unlike anything it had ever felt from a human like he was something else entirely. "Fou?"

The animal slowly gazed up, scanning his person for any oddities yet finding none, merely the standard features for his species. Still, as it focused on his blue eyes, the beast felt a presence slowly emerging from the depths of his black pupilsas a faint flicker of red.

The glimmer shifted into a mental image of a monster looming over the land, pounding its fists along its hairy torso as its colossal tail swished through the air, destroying all that dared cross its path. It was a Great Ape, something that had never once stepped foot on the planet until this moment, trapped within the confines of its host, its presence bringing about a primal reaction from the former familiar.

Trunks paused as the tiny animal shifted from mild curiosity to an angry hiss aimed in his direction, the sound stopping all sense of conversation before the tiny thing leaped off the ground and onto his Servant's shoulder, wrapping around her pale neck like a living scarf as it glared at him. He squinted his eyes in confusion before remembering this wasn't the first time something like that happened; guessing animals just didn't like hi-

"And who do you think you are?-"

The Saiyan turned his head, seeing a pair of amber eyes glaring at him from above before he slowly stood upright, towering over the supposed Director as she stood a mere few feet from him with a sneer along her face, choosing to ignore her seeming grudge against Mash for the time being. The Chaldean looked over the Saiyan, her grimace growing as it landed along the command seals present along the back of his hand, "another upstart magus from the program..."

The Director turned toward Mash, crossing her hands over her chest as though she were a commander trying to assert a sense of authority over the situation, "do you just make contracts with anyone that..." something seemed to click within her mind as she spoke, forcing the heiress to slowly turn toward the hybrid once more, "asks..."

She squinted in confusion, glancing at his clothes with a glare before her expression shifted into an unsettled grimace, her focus settling on his face as though the woman was trying to place him somewhere- "No... you weren't in Chaldea..." she raised a finger in the swordsman's face, "who the hell are you?!"

Trunks could only stare at the woman standing below him, clenching his fists as his mind wandered into the obscure veil of anger, remembering this was the person who abandoned her allies to save herself, the lowest of the low in his eyes. His brow furrowed as he spoke, "Apparently, I'm the one that has to do your job... Director."

Mash tried to intervene, raising a gloved hand as she lightly spoke, getting utterly drowned out by the pair as they grew louder by the moment, swearing she saw steam coming off the Animusphere's head, "Senpai...I don't think...-"

The magus took a step closer, utterly uncaring for the difference in size or height between them or completely unaware, clicking her tongue in annoyance as she glared up at him, "I'd watch your tone; with one word, I could ruin your chances at ever doing this again."

A chuckle broke out as the Saiyan grinned in utter disbelief, shaking his head in denial before refocusing his attention as his blue eyes gleamed into the darkened night, "I'd like to see you try, but honestly, I have better things to do than deal with some selfish runt." He waved a tan hand across the horizon, over burning fields and destroyed homes as the swordsman spoke, "and if you can't tell, there are more important things going on; I'm trying to end what's happening here, so either-"

*KRRR

*Clap-Clap

As the sound of ringing static filtered through the atmosphere, the Saiyan paused midsentence, following the source of the sound as a blue light flickered into existence behind the white-haired magus, with a voice ringing out, interrupting him entirely, "Look on the bright side, in that case-"

The energy zipped about, warping from a haze of blue into a veritable collection of dissonant images before coalescing into a human shape, revealing a man with long, fluffy hair tied into a ponytail much like the Saiyan's wearing a simple lap coat as his gloved hands rested atop what he could only assume was an advanced console of some kind, with audibly humming devices looping in the background. "Our goals align; how convenient!"

With a huff of disregard, the Director swished her hair with a free hand as a knotted batch of white locks flicked about, glancing toward the man as he studied the unknown teenager. "Romani...update, what's the status at Chaldea? What of the Master candidates?"

The man shook his head, biting his cheek in distaste as he shoved a thin hand into his jacket pocket, "Not much improvement in that regard; we followed your orders, but we're pretty limited at the moment, so don't expect any miracles...speaking of Masters..."

He turned, squinting as he scanned the crowd humming in confusion before glancing toward the lilac Servant standing off to the side, "Mash, where's Fujimaru?-" a playful smile grew along his face, "you didn't scare him off, did you?"

As a strange silence overcame the defender, she sharply inhaled, glancing toward the ground as the doctor tilted his head in confusion, as even the Director seemed to look away with a slight wince. "Am I missing somethi-"

"He's dead."

Despite the distance between the command room and the city of Fuyuki all those years ago, a look of surprise reflected in the man's calm demeanor, his eyes slightly widening before falling away into a static acceptance as he observed the swordsman standing before him, he took a slow breath before speaking once more, "I see... in that case..."

The doctor raised a gloved hand across his chest, giving a slight nod of acknowledgment before gazing back up toward the unknown person before him, his focus landing along the teen's slitted eyes as if he was trying to ascertain something yet not finding the answer within his mind. "As the Director said, I'm Doctor Romani Archaman, temporary head of the command room, and you are?"

A moment passed as the hybrid considered his options, knowing that revealing his hand put himself at all kinds of risk, yet what choice was there? The warrior innately knew that he'd need time and resources to get back home, and as he stared out across the desolate landscape, something told him that it wouldn't happen in a place like this. Mash had given him the briefest of rundowns on what their organization did, showing him a spark of hope that they could work something out, but these people were all unknowns...

He sighed, dusting a layer of dust off of his dark blue jacket, with the material flickering into the surrounding winds and toward the ground below. He slowly gazed up, raising a hand as a thumb pointed toward his person, "Trunks...and I guess you could say I'm another time traveler."

...

...

"Bullshit!"

The Saiyan glanced to the side, seeing the white-haired magus leveling yet another stare in his direction, taking a step forward, then another, "even if you were from the future, we would have known if you rayshifted i-"

Only to be silenced as the doctor raised a blue hand in front of the aristocratic leader, metaphorically blocking her path with his illusionary form. "Wait-" he placed his hands along his hips, glancing to the side at some unseen device, his eyes flickering between sets of data before landing along a specific algorithm and looking back to the Saiyan. "earlier, we picked up some kind of distortion, just for a moment...that was you, wasn't it?"

The swordsman hummed, running through the chaotic events within his mind, not quite knowing if you could detect time travel, but anything was possible, he supposed. He glanced at the apparition as he raised a brow, "Was it a little over an hour ago?" Getting a nod of confirmation, the warrior continued, "Then yeah, that was about when I crash-landed here."

An audible hiss of disagreement filtered out from the Director as she crossed her arms over her chest, "I can't believe you're falling for this Roman, and besides...what do you mean by 'crash?'" Her amber orbs glowed against the darkness surrounding the group as the leader's anger seemed to grow by the moment, "Sure, rayshifting has its errors, but-"

The hybrid shook his head, leveling a stare at the woman below him in mild annoyance, thinking deep down that she had some unspoken grudge against him. Still, they were strangers in a warzone, and he couldn't blame them for being as cautious as he was at the end of the day. "I don't know what this-" he raised his hands as his fingers bobbed up and down "'rayshifting' thing is, lady, my time machine crashed here on my way back home, and now-"

His arms stretched over the horizon, exposing the barren nothingness once more, revealing a world of damage and destruction where no salvation lay, just the idly clambering of the living dead and the few monsters roaming its streets. "I'm stuck here, trying to figure out what the hell is going on, and the last thing I need is you screaming in my face."

The heiress huffed in disbelief, her head turning to the side as her eyes gazed off to the burning horizon, "Please, even if you were telling the truth, time travel isn't feasible; we've tried that time and-"

As the magus prattled on into her tirade, a pang of anger flickered through the Saiyan's mind; whether his temper was an inherited trait from his father, he would never know or admit to it. But as she spoke, he reached into his jacket, gripping an all too familiar capsule before pulling the device out; his thumb slammed along the trigger before gently tossing it a few feet away.

*BOOM

A cloud of smoke burst across the scene as the multiton vehicle seemingly phased into existence, its yellow plating reflecting the dim light of the city as it stood tall against the broken landscape. On command, the glass latch slowly opened, revealing the inner contents of complex machinery as the magus stared in confusion.

"-again..."

The Saiyan hybrid wasted no time, his boots trudging along the ground as rocks cracked beneath his form, ki flooding his system before, with a gentle hop, he floated into the air toward the entrance. Choosing to ignore what could only be called a squawk of both annoyance and incredulity from the Director, he drifted into the cockpit, "You really think you're the only people messing around in the time stream?"

Disregarding the others for a moment, the swordsman huffed in frustration as he stared at the control panel, still smashed to pieces thanks to his blunder. He slowly grazed a hand over the surface before a burst of static blasted from the console, missing his face by inches as he tilted out of the way before grumbling into a flurry of mild obscenities as he checked over the device.

The sound of static grew closer as the doctor approached, eyeing up the device with an amicable interest, staring at the boy as smoke wafted around his form, "I think I see your problem."

Trunks rolled his eyes, forcing a panel back into place as its locks clicked together once more, bringing the plume of smoke to a trail before dissipating into nothingness. He shook his head, "I can fix a few consoles, no problem, but this thing-"

He reached out a tan hand, tapping it along the metallic frame of his vehicle as the sound echoed across the landscape, "runs on chronal energy, and I have enough left for maybe...hold on-"

The warrior glanced toward a fuel gauge, sighing in annoyance as its broken form blurred into his vision, knowing he would have to check this thing manually. He slowly lowered to the floor, opening a storage compartment before reaching in, shuffling things out of the way before pausing as a crinkle of paper caught his attention.

His hand clasped, around a cold cylinder, pulling out a ruffled sheet of paper, glancing at the writing, realizing it was his mom's. He leaned back, reaching a hand overhead as he flickered on a diligent yellow bulb overhead, illuminating the sheet as he quietly read it aloud to himself, his hands traveling along the page with each word. "Trunks...so proud of you...wanted to give to you something to show how much help you were to your dear 'old' mom." He idly chuckled, seeing the word 'old' crossed out with black pen to no avail before continuing, "I know how much this meant to you...so I had it fixed up just for you...stay safe..."

He glanced toward the capsule, twirling its steel grey form in his fingers before pushing the thought away, having an idea of what it was, but having other things in mind for the time being. The Saiyan leaned forward, peering into a darkened chamber of machinery as a dim green glow reflected onto his tan skin as his blue orbs studied the amount. He ran the numbers through his head before retreating, popping his head out to the world beyond, his purple hairs covered in a layer of soot. He leaned over the edge, glancing toward the doctor below, "I might have just enough for a small jump, but that's it."

As the fluffy-haired man took in his words, he rubbed a finger along his chin in contemplation before glancing back toward the only Servant present as her lavender orbs gazed about the machine in a sort of child-like wonder, idly making him wonder if he let her read too many sci-fi books growing up before disregarding the matter. "Mash... the Director mentioned that you two formed a contract, right?"

The lilac defender paused as reality resettled into place before slowly giving the man a nod gripping a gloved fist as though she were testing something. After a moment, she met his stare with a look of determination across her pale features, "Yes, his Master compatibility was sufficient; no problems with mana depletion."

With a nod, the doctor slowly approached the white-haired aristocrat, still glaring at the Saiyan as he ignored her presence entirely, merely going back to his attempted repairs mumbling nonsense about uncooperative machinery. "Director-" as her gaze flickered toward the hologram, the man nodded to the side, "can we have a word?"

With a grumble of acceptance, the magus huffed in annoyance, running a hand through her white hair before shuffling away with the blurred doctor. Trunks paid it no mind, keeping his eyes on his work as a free hand gently reached into a compartment, pulling out a screwdriver as he began to assess the damage he may or may not have caused.

With a few gentle turns, a protective metal sheet popped off, revealing a mess of tangled wires of various lengths and colors; the hybrid traced their origins as his mind ran through calculations and ideas. The warrior was by no means as bright as his mother; it was like comparing a candle to a bonfire; she invented the time machine and pretty much every modern amenity the teen could think of, or at least had her hand in it somehow, but he wasn't an idiot.

His hands drifted along a length of yellow material, feeling for any breaks yet finding none, earning a begrudging nod of approval from the Saiyan. Bulma Briefs was in a league of her own. However, he still took after her in some ways, finding a love-hate relationship with technology, taking things apart and putting them back together, a boring thing to do. Still, while living in the apocalypse, you do anything to take your mind off things for a bit, and besides, those skills were coming in hand-

"Senpai?"

With a hum, the time traveler lightly stood beneath the glass dome as it loomed overhead, leaning over the edge, only seeing a blob of lavender before his gaze met a pair of lilac eyes squinting into the light from the device.

His head snapped to the side as he heard a half-distant scream of denial from the Director as the doctor's hologram raised his hands as though he were surrendering. Their conversation didn't really matter to him, but he picked up a few choice words about him, some questions about how a committee would react, before returning to the same tirade as before... The Saiyan couldn't help but wonder what made a person act like that before shifting his gaze back toward his companion.

Mash stood there on the ground amidst the cracked wreckage from an earlier collapse from the bridge looming up above, her mind racing through the rumbling shock of the last few moments, hardly able to get a word in during that debate. It was a mixture of things; seeing someone argue with the Director nearly brought her mind to a halt; time travel aside, that was an endeavor the defender wouldn't dream of doing, knowing just what happened to anyone the woman decided she didn't like.

She slowly reached out with a free hand, tugging her other glove into place as her metallic shield bobbed up and down along with the motion, her thoughts running through question after question. It felt a bit silly to think there weren't others running around in the past like they were, with that sudden realization coming as a slap in the face, but...she stared into his blue eyes with a half-lidded stare as an awkwardness overcame her.

Mash had never been one for confrontation or even arguing with someone, and she hardly knew a thing about her strange ally; where had he come from? What did he want? How did the teen have such odd abilities? It felt wrong to prod, but something drove a deep curiosity within the Chaldean, forcing her to push away those layers of anxiety for just a moment, "...What were you doing...before you came here?"

A moment passed as an audible breeze whooshed overhead, its cries wailing into the night as the hybrid hummed in thought, his hands gripping the edge of his platform as he rocked back and forth. "Same thing as you, I guess-"

He gazed out into the night sky, peering up at the stars as they twinkled against the layers of smog looming over the world, thinking back to where it all began, jumping back into the past just for the glimmer of hope that was a better future waiting for them. The warrior fought for that ideal with everything left in him, even costing his own life, but he'd do the same thing again and again if it meant ending the nightmare once and for all.

His stare never left the sky as images flickered through his mind, both enemy and friend alike, culminating in a swirling chaos the time traveler found himself in, not for his sake, but for the people of his world. His ki surged into an apex as his memories flashed an old face into his thoughts, a pair of beady black eyes staring into his, with wrinkled old skin overlaid with a scraggly white mustache and an equally unkempt set of white hair, with a black hat covering the top of his head. His veins popped to the surface as he remembered the letters RR strewn about the headpiece, bringing about a pang of rage from within the hybrid, glaring into the heavens above as he spoke. "One man tried to cause the end of the world for his own selfish reasons...-"

Metal audibly warped and popped as his inhuman grip tightened, bending the frame as his brow furrowed in a brief flash of utter hatred before calming into a serene stillness. He stared down at his ally, all traces of anger vanishing into the depths of his mind with a shrug and a small smile as he leaned over the railing, "And we stopped that future from happening; that's all there is to it."

The Chaldean leaned atop her weapon of choice, her pale arms reflecting the dim glow of the burning city, idly wondering about the vagueness surrounding his description yet feeling a twinge of guilt at having to do the same. Still, it was just precaution toward an unknown, part of her hoping this wasn't some kind of retribution.

But as the defender absorbed the statement, she raised a brow as her lilac eyes scanned the remnants of civilization surrounding the two, her thoughts coalescing into a curiosity about his wording, 'we'...did that mean there were others like him out there or something else entirely...but the Servant stood there, only a single question refused to drift into the wayside. "Do you really think someone could do...-"

A grimace grew along her stoic features while she observed what was once a school in the distance, now hardly standing as its gate lay torn apart. She wouldn't experience a leisurely life like that...learning...making friends...everything an average person would have; she would never know what it was like; the halfling accepted that for what it was, but the sight still brought about a deep sadness within her. "-all this?... What is there to gain in something so awful?"

The swordsman drifted into his memories, knowing he had asked that same question all too often as a kid; it never made sense, seeing the carnage done to innocent people, but time and again, it happened, and through a lifetime of fighting, he still didn't understand...but still... The hybrid paused his work, reaching into a jacket pocket as he twirled a capsule in his hand, knowing it contained an inherited legacy he strove to maintain every day and the loss it represented. "That's just it... we'll never be able to know why these people cause so much pain, not really... I've heard their logic time and again, but it never settles in."

His blue eyes flickered green as he studied the device held before his eyes, swearing to hold on to those memories of better days, to find new strength in that sorrow so that no one else needs to live a life like his. "Call it whatever you want, a quest for power, some 'divine right,' or even just wanting a challenge-" an image of that disgusting abomination of genes flickered before his vision, with those smug pink orbs looking down on the world itself, burning a new flame into his being as he pushed forward on his journey for peace. "but nothing will ever justify what happened here... all I need to know, is that whoever did this, needs to be put down... besides-"

The hybrid glanced toward the defender's weapon as its giant grey form contrasted against the bright yellows of his contraption, a flicker of interest sparking to life within his blue orbs. "I want to see how you fight with that thing."

With a grumble of disapproval, the Chaldean glanced toward the ground in shame as she instinctively adjusted the giant tool within her grasp. She knew fully well how useless a Servant without a phantasm was...and with her track record, it left doubts in the defender's mind if she was even capable of competence. Her boot instinctively kicked out as she spoke, launching a charred rock off into unseen territory as her worries remained high, "...it's nothing special...I just swing it around."

Trunks observed the girl's behavior with a static flow, his mind wandering into the uncharted territory of addressing someone else's issues once again. He could only wonder if this was how Gohan felt with him at one point, but pushed it aside, knowing he was no teacher, just someone trying to help another person down on their luck. With a shrug and a small smile of remembrance, the warrior spoke, "It's all about mindset; you just 'swing' a sword until you're good at it, then suddenly, you're an expert. You'll get there someday, Mash."

Her lavender hair drifted before her eyes before being brushed away by a gloved hand as she stared at the Saiyan in perplexity. The Chaldean sighed; seeing someone who didn't seem to doubt himself was both pleasant and extremely frustrating, wishing she could make that same leap, only to fall flat on her face every time. "What makes you so sure I won't mess up again?"

The hybrid crossed his arms, leaning back along his chair as the repaired piece stood firm despite its groans of resistance. He slowly raised a tan hand, revealing the red command seals to his ally as their gazes met, "you put a lot on the line with this contract of ours, so I'll do the same; we work together, right?

As the words settled into place, the Chaldean slowly pushed off the edge of her shield, standing upright amidst the chaos surrounding them, nodding along with the teen as she gripped both fists tight. "I'll tr-...no..." There was no room for doubt if she wanted to avenge her former Master; no, the defender would need to try harder if she wanted to improve, and the first step started here. "...together."

As the time traveler stared at the Servant's determination shine through into the night, he couldn't help but glimpse a familiar sight within the recesses of his memories. For the briefest of moments, he didn't see the lilac girl ahead but a mirage of his friend's younger self, pushing through an unwillingness to fight against impossible odds...and for the one in his timeline, even if it meant paying the ultimate price.

His blue orbs softened as the image disappeared into nothingness, leaving the world around him as a reminder that his fight wasn't over. The capsule in his hand felt that much heavier, yet his grip persevered through it all as he spoke, "You know... someone once told me the same thing when I was younger... it's funny; you two are kind of alike..."

The Chaldean slowly raised her shield high once more, resting the giant device along her side, preparing for whatever was to come their way. She watched as the teen went back to his work, as though he were trying to leave things there, and yet, she wanted to know more... if there was someone out there that could put her on the right path, the Servant could use all the help she could get. She stood a step forward, then another as the yellow machine loomed overhead, speaking upward into a heated wind as it blew dust around her form, "who are you-"

*Clap-Clap

As the Saiyan's work came to a grinding halt once more, his small blue eyes shifted, observing the doctor as he approached with what could only describe as a look of utter exhaustion along his features. Where once flowed a long trail of puffy hair now lay frazzled and disorderly as beads of sweat poured down his static face. The man looked as though he had just a marathon despite hardly moving more than a few feet...but why?

A rock cracked beneath a pair of black designer heels as their owner trudged behind the man, her glare nearly melting a hole into his back as she followed his every move like a predator stalking prey. As the pair approached, the white-haired magus glanced at the teen as her yellow orbs met his. Almost immediately, with a hiss of her tongue, she looked away in annoyance at some unseen location in the distance, crossing her arms across her chest in some tantrum or other.

A sigh of relief escaped the Chaldean doctor as he ran a cloth over his forehead, his weary smile growing into the same neutral grin as always. He slowly raised a free hand, pulling along the tight collar of his blurry shirt as he spoke, "Looks like we worked something out..."

The Director huffed in irritation, her chin shooting to the sky as her white locks dangled to the ground below, closing her eyes for a moment of reprieve as she refused to even look at any of them for the time being. "Hmph, you're handling the paperwork for this mess, Romani, understand?"

His blurry eyes narrowed as a sheepish look crossed the man's features, turning toward the aristocrat as he raised his hands in placation. "Director... I don't think I'm allowed to-"

Her head snapped down in an instant as the leader's glare grew tenfold, focusing her frustrations on the poor man who feared her wrath even from the safety of the command room. "I said you'll handle it."

With a sigh of acceptance, the man's form bobbed downward for a moment, his arms dangling toward the ground as his static fingers drifted along the rocks, his form glitching as he did so. "Understood...anyways-"

In an instant, the hologram shot up into position, leaning on some unseen platform as his hands blurred through commands as he spoke, glancing toward the halfling Saiyan, "Things on our end are too chaotic to just let things lay where they are...we're understaffed and-" with a sigh, his glance fell downward for the briefest of moments, "we just lost our last field researcher."

As the implications ran through the group, he ran a hand through his fluffy hair, straightening out its loose ends as the doctor started to compose himself back into a semiprofessional manner, "So, that's where you come in... look, there's not enough time to get into the nitty-gritty of all this, but you need help, and so do we."

The man glanced to the side as some distant voices rang out through the facility, nearly incomprehensible yet ever present, reflecting a state of utter chaos wherever they were. He turned back to the swordsman with a slight grimace, "This breaks so many codes that even I want to crawl under my desk and hide, but there's no choice... you take command as a Master, find out what's going on there...and in exchange, we'll try to figure your situation out; that's honestly all I can do."

Trunks stood there, taking in the man's statement with a solemn stoicism, neither angry nor elated at the proposal; he knew this was probably his best chance of getting home, but still, there were so many unknowns, and the warrior needed to make a choice. But as he grumbled through the subject, the hybrid settled on his path.

He took a slow step up, his yellow boots clinking along hardened metal as he stood above the destruction and decay lying mere feet below. He studied his temporary allies as the doctor, and his supposed Servant waited for his response as the Director focused on the horizon, almost physically fuming at the prospect, grumbling obscenities to no one in particular. The royal inheritor took a slow breath, preparing for another leap into the uncertain, "I'll take it, but I would've done it regardless."

The strange holographical doctor watched as the teen's gaze flickered to life in a burst of ki before the hybrid plunged into the depths below. He hovered above the ground before descending, raising a hand through his billowing purple locks, tapping an unseen button along the bottom of his vehicle as the device disappeared into a cloud of smoke, its capsule falling into his waiting hand. The Chaldean raised a brow at the sight, idly wondering how that sort of thing worked but pushed it aside for more pressing matters; with a playful smirk, he spoke, "quick answer... got some secret agenda we don't know about?"

As the Saiyan landed, he shook his head in stubborn denial, pocketing the device as he twirled his mother's gift in hand, "No, nothing like that, but my issues can wait; repairs can always be pushed back...but-" he raised a free hand over the horizon, reflecting on a land where people once roamed, now only inhabited by the dead and whatever else prowled the empty streets. "what happened here is unforgivable-"

His device's spin came to a crashing halt as the warrior slammed a thumb down along the trigger, throwing the grey capsule into the air above as it burst into a cloud of smoke, revealing an all too familiar sight. With an elongated metallic frame hidden behind layers of carefully padded orange material, its grey point contrasted against the blackened ash lands surrounding the teen as its blue strap fluttered in the evening breeze.

A smirk grew along the hybrid's features as he observed the falling tool, raising a free arm as its heavy frame slammed onto his waiting palm, bringing back a familiar sensation, something he almost couldn't live without, knowing it was far more than a weapon in his eyes, no, it was a gift, an inherited legacy from the man who taught him. The blade symbolized everything he strove to be, and the best friend he lost trying to save the world, Gohan's sword, now his to use and whole once more.

He tilted his hand, allowing the scabbard to drift along his skin before clenching around its aqua-blue sling, reflecting an innocence the teen strove to protect every single day. He raised his left arm, sliding the material against his jacket as the other end pulled atop his right shoulder, locking his rightful blade into place once more as its silver pommel flashed to the skies above. He spoke with absolute certainty as his power surged again, "Whoever did this needs to be put down, and I'll do whatever it takes to make sure that they can't hurt anyone else."

The doctor hummed in mild intrigue as the swordsman spoke, slowly observing his blade as the boy's determination reverberated across their shared space. He gently shoved a hand into his pocket, rutting around for something before withdrawing a pen, scribbling onto an unseen sheet as he spoke, "Spunky... adding that one to your file."

As the Saiyan opened his mouth to ask something, the Director caught his confusion, raising a hand as she glared into the teen's very soul with her glowing yellow orbs. "Everyone has one at our organization; get used to it."

A chuckle broke out from the hologram as the man smirked down at his writing before pausing in hesitance as his avatar slowly began to whirl and glitch, "Looks like our connection's running thin-" he glanced toward the hybrid as the aristocratic magus continued to study his form like a war hawk watching for errors as he stood his ground uncaring for the weary leader. "You can give me the details later, but for now, you're our final operative, Tru-n-n-n-n-n," before abruptly dispersing into a sea of blue data.

A waft of ashes billowed past the halfling's blue eyes as he sighed away a built-up tension, never quite liking those types of conversations, experiencing enough of them from the few people his mom still worked with in their wasteland of a world. He could destroy planets on a whim but struggled to negotiate with other people; the warrior shrugged the thought away, glancing between his two companions as the white-haired leader tapped her foot impatiently along the ground. His hands gripped the sling around his shoulders as he adjusted the device into place, "Well... might as well get this over with, right?"

The Director snorted, raising a brow as she refused to take her eyes off the Saiyan for even a moment, "And how do you expect to do that, hm? Just go marching around town, ask the nearest person where this all started?"

He gripped a fist before letting it go, not willing to let her get to him; the fighter had far too much experience with his father to let some snarky comments get to his head; he couldn't just leave her here...no, might as well get used to it, and besides- the swordsman glanced toward his Servant as she stood to the side, merely letting the two do their thing.

As the defender remained still as a mouse, he nodded in her direction, speaking with a mixture of sternness and mild annoyance, "Well, before I met her, I did run into one of those things... covered in black smoke, had a really long arm, he mentioned them having something to do with it... I didn't get a lot out of him."

A sigh escaped the aristocrat as she brushed a layer of dust off of her immaculate uniform, her pale skin acting against their darkened surroundings, "...Do you take me for an idiot? That you could just waltz up to one of those things and have a friendly little chat?..." Her stare drifted toward Mash as the girl stared back and forth between the pair, "If you haven't noticed, everything in this damn place wants us dead."

With a roll of his eyes, Trunks crossed his arms across his chest, exposing the Capsule Corp logo strewn along his jacket's dark blue sleeves, "You're right about that part; I could tell it was like a game to him... talked to me like I was prey." He lightly shrugged, "Not that it really mattered; he died easy enough, so the rest can't be that much worse."

The fighter shoved a hand into his pocket, throwing the other over his shoulder as his thumb pointed off into the distance as the moon gently illuminated his enhanced form. He met the aristocrat with a glare of his own as he spoke, "You see that forest way out there?"

With a huff of annoyance, the Director's heels strode along a cracked and broken ground as she approached, raising a hand over her forehead as she squinted into the far-off distance, seeing a blurred patch of swaying green trees, untouched by the devastation and destruction surrounding them at every waking moment in this hell on earth.

Her yellow orbs shifted to the side, observing the mysterious teenager as he pointed the sight out to his Servant while the lilac defender slowly nodded in acknowledgment. The leader's focus momentarily landed on the small squirrel-like creature wrapped around the Servant's shoulder...Chaldea's unofficial mascot, Fou, a begrudging morale booster she allowed, one of the few those under her would receive, albeit there wasn't much choice, but still, it helped she supposed.

The heiress raised a brow as she watched the creature's tiny white form stretch as its nose sniffed the air toward the purple-haired swordsman, taking short, hesitant breaths before recoiling, digging into the Chaldean's neck for shelter. The sight brought an array of questions to her mind, yet none remained conclusive; she had never seen Fou act like that, but how was she to know what the animal wanted or even thought?...No matter... She shoved the issue aside, barking into the stillness as the warrior turned to meet her grunt of anger, "So what am I looking at exactly? If you can't tell, we're on a time crunch."

A stream of air escaped the hybrid's form as he sighed away his annoyance into the night, wondering how anyone dealt with this sort of attitude on a daily basis, his mind briefly flashing toward his parents before he forcefully closed that door, not wanting to know. His glare shifted into the unblemished lands afar as he spoke, "Well, if you want this to end, then listen."

A muscled arm extended into the air, a finger pointing outward toward a distant collection of woodland that seemed to part ways into some unseen clearing or other beneath the veil of shrubbery and wildlife. The Saiyan's blue orbs narrowed as his senses extended into the periphery, tracing existences of all sizes and forms, burning them into his memory in his mental search for the root of this madness before settling down. "From what I've seen, most of those things stick to the city, but I can feel a few outliers way out there... two of them...the problem-"

He nodded toward the city as distant figures shambled about, their blackened forms overshadowed by the raging fires. Their skeletal frames trudged across superheated slag, the sounds of bone clicking along hardened rock ringing out for all to hear on their quest to find any living being for some unknown reason, marching on through burning embers as though the pain didn't exist.

The Saiyan gripped a fist tight at the sight, knowing those things were once people like him or any other, now some unholy abomination from yet another sick experiment gone wrong, or worse. He glanced toward the finely dressed magus, observing her forcing away a grimace of both disgust and fear before speaking, "There's an army of those things between us, and there, and if you want this done quick, we do it my way."

A hum of uncertainty broke out before a single boot took a step forward as the sole Servant spoke her mind, "Senpai... I know how you feel, but-" with a blackened glove interwoven with purple fibers gently flashed toward the white-haired magus, "before we met, it took us hours to travel a mere few blocks... we had to fight every second to even survive."

A grimace appeared along the defender's pale features as she gazed toward the ground, her eyes narrowing in an emotional flurry, "You saw what happened to Ritsuka...and with the Director... I-" the Chaldean's glowing orbs shook as they stared at the swordsman, forcing herself to speak, "I don't think we can make another trip like that...I'm not strong enough."

The Servant raised a hand as the sounds of crackling bones drew closer as a shambling horde idly trudged across the land in search of their next target, unaware of their presence for the time being. Her digits expanded over the roadways leading to their destination, straight through the heart of darkness, the city center, where every inch of land seemed covered in some disaster or looming threat as flames, and molten rock drifted about without any particular direction in mind. "It might be selfish, but... I can't even think about walking through that place again..."

A moment passed as the time traveler took his ally's words in with stride, slowly turning toward the distance as his hands fell to his sides, grazing his blue jacket as his purple locks fluttered with a surge of ki through his system. "Then it's a good thing we aren't walking."

A humph of mock escaped the Chaldean leader as she observed the teen's actions, "Well, from what I can see, unless we sprout wings and fly, there's not much choice in the matter, so why don't we-"

In an instant, the Saiyan's hands shot out, clasping both girls by the wrist as energy flooded through his systems, both unaware and uncaring for their response; the ground began to gently hum beneath his boots, spreading out like a wave across the barren land.

A squawk of rage escaped the aristocrat as she tried to pull away to no avail, her heels simply dragging along the ground as her counterpart stared at the vibrating surface, then glancing toward her Master in confusion, and yet the Director persisted. "What the hell do you think you're do-"

She paused as an array of charred rocks slowly rose and fell around them, like a cloud of debris caught in orbit with the surrounding atmosphere growing denser by the second. Soon a white aura erupted around the swordsman, billowing through his clothing as their loose ends in the artificial wind. As the magus shielded her eyes from the surrounding dust storm, she felt a sudden weightlessness as her footing gave way to mere nothingness. Before the Director could even orient herself, her stomach lurched as the Saiyan took off through the skies at untold speed, the only sign of a response being a screech to rival the gods themselves from the Animusphere.

A shield bobbed back at forth, held tight through sheer force of will against an armored torso, with metal clashing into another solid surface time and again, breaching through the veil of screams from the Chaldean leader. Mash's pale features scrunched up in discomfort as her stomach lurched back and forth in an affliction all too common to frequent fliers, not that she would know, having spent her entire life in a facility. Still, the Servant's books gave her a good idea of the feeling... her mind didn't race through questions as it normally did, no, simply reverting to a primal reaction as a veil of nausea overwhelmed the girl's senses, soon realizing she didn't like it, not one bit.

A slight grin graced the Saiyan's tan features as he soared through the clouds, rising far above the pollution and ashen waste into a calm stretch of airspace and away from the chaotic turbulence down below. It was a guilty pleasure watching someone react to flight for the first time, everyone had to go through it, and it was far better to see than have it happen to you, but-

"Fou!"

A battle cry rang out through the world as a small fluffy body rushed along the Servant's outstretched arm, taking a running leap onto the hybrid's shoulder as its blue eyes glared daggers into his, raising a paw in defiance at its supposed attacker.

*bop-bop-bop

The Saiyan remained static as a soft mass crashed into his face, only to bounce off before reappearing once more as his strange animal nemesis refused to end its assault for even a moment. The warrior idly wondered if he should have banned pets on this flight before dismissing the matter. He decided to take his revenge by rocketing into the distance at greater speeds, forcing the attack to end as the vengeful spirit clung to his jacket for dear life.

But as the roaring winds subsided, a grimace turned into a nervous uncertainty before a pair of lavender orbs slowly opened to the world, once unable to block the oncoming breeze from crashing onto their surface, and yet she endured. Mash gazed about in confusion, her stare landing on her Master as the teen soared through the skies, carrying them in tow, but as she observed their rising path through the skies, the aching feeling slowly subsided, as though a danger had been averted, leaving her with a sort of weightlessness as fascination took hold.

She ignored the relentless screaming of her Director, having long since been used to outbursts of that variety, instead staring down at the world below as it passed by in a near blur, yet visible to her enhanced senses. The destruction remained in place, yet it felt far more distant, no longer able to feel the heat of burning wreckage or the smoldering smells of decay and rot. Instead, the city appeared like a glowing ember in the night, and despite the knowledge of what prowled the streets...there was a beauty to it.

The Servant dangled there, gripping the Saiyans arm with untold pressure as she took it all in, the long-gone buildings, the roaming pathways where people once traversed this urban center, and as she flew free above it all, a strange sensation slowly bubbled up as the clouds passed beneath her. It was hard to describe amidst the myriad of things flowing through her mind, the fear, the sadness, the grief, the list went on and on, growing exponentially as she saw what was once a beacon of everyday life now gone and yet...

Mash slowly extended her legs upward, laying flat like a board to match her Master, whether by an urge to be less of a burden or simply because she wanted to try something she'd seen and read about time and again, the Servant couldn't say. But as she felt the wind billowing through her locks, she could only glance at the infinite skies surrounding her as the pangs of hurt lightened just a bit, replaced by a new feeling.

A small smile grew along her worried features, with her lavender eyes softening just a bit as realization set in; she was excited. Where there should be a terror of the unknown and the dangers that lay beyond the void of devastation, instead rested a light bumping in her chest for a new lived experience in her short life.

For the time being, she didn't consider her circumstances, nor did she worry about seeing a tomorrow for herself or humanity. Instead, she wondered how life could change so drastically, how one moment she was desperately clinging to her shield, fighting along the streets, and now, her weapon bounced about in her hand as they soared through the skies, with all nausea long since passed. Things felt...better, as if there was a way out of all this mess... that there was something beyond, high above everything else... a smile grew on her pale face as Mash decided she liked to fly.

...

Moments later

A pair of yellow boots landed along hard gravel, the material crunching beneath an unseen force as its white whisks dissipated into nothingness. Trunks stared out across the area, observing a faint trail running through a seemingly endless tract of wilderness. Trees lined the passageway as their green leaves swished about, with a scattering of colorful pieces falling to the ground below, landing along a soft earth and atop the various shrubs present in the diverse landscape.

*Gasp

The warrior paused his examination, his focus caught by the white-haired magus behind him as she fell to the ground on her knees, dragging minor cuts into her red stockings as she reoriented to the realm of solid footing. She remained there, taking long deep breaths, eyes fully closed, face still scrunched up as though the Director were holding back a tidal wave of sickness as her features gradually sunk into a low unfit for a person of her societal standing. He grimaced, rubbing a hand along his tan arm in mild sheepishness, realizing he might have gone a bit too far with -

A gentle hum of interest broke out, redirecting the fighter as he turned, seeing his "Servant's" shield shoved into the earth, with mounds of dirt lightly rising a few inches off its sides as its wielder slowly crouched, raising an open palm toward a small green plant. Mash stood there, contemplating the little piece of life as its green stalk made contact with her gloved hand as she gently felt the grooves along its surface. Her voice escaped as little more than a whisper, unheard to most except the hybrid's enhanced senses, "...pretty."

The Saiyan lightly tilted his head, his purple locks flowing toward the ground as he observed the girl taking an interest in probably the most obscure thing in the area. They were in the middle of a warzone, and she was looking at plants...not even a flower? Why? He took a slow step forward, pausing as a tiny paw collided with his face once more from the squirrel-like creature still perched along his shoulder, its pearl blue eyes staring into his like a warning as its foot remained fixed for a moment before retracting, with the tiny thing gazing away in disinterest...Was this thing trying to threaten him?

With a roll of his eyes, the swordsman crossed his arms over his chest with a light humph of annoyance; his blue eyes shifted away from the pest and toward the Chaldean once again as she stared at the plant in a sort of child-like awe. The fighter raised a brow as he spoke, "You act like you haven't seen the woods before."

The Shielder nodded as a small yet strained smile grew along her features, reflecting a sense of turmoil the hybrid didn't quite understand. She remained static, gently twirling the tiny leaves between her fingers with a sense of care one would expect from a botanist more than a trained fighter acting as though it were a precious experience despite its mundanity. "...I guess I haven't... our facility is in the Antarctic, so we might have a few plants here and there, but... not anything like this."

Trunks took a moment, his mind running through the word as though he had never even heard such a phrase before; evening mouthing the word 'arctic' felt foreign, like something that didn't exist in his vernacular. The warrior didn't need her to explain the meaning, able to infer that it must be some desolate place or other, but it sent a feeling of uncertainty through him, as though it were reaffirming his earlier suspicions, only to disperse by force of will, not willing to spend time on the matter until things were settled. He shrugged as his mind drifted up old thoughts to the surface, "I know the feeling; I grew up in the big city... never liked the trips out there at first, took me a long time to get used to traveling like that, speaking of-"

The Saiyan chuckled, thinking back to those early days when he was just a stupid kid exploring the world, seeing all the different animals and creatures across unique lands with his best friend as they trained to fight for their freedom. The circumstances might seem tragic to some, but to him? Trunks would always think fondly of those days with the man he idolized. He slowly approached, this time without an attack from his animal observer, as the fighter crouched next to his ally, observing the greenery below, "I'm surprised you aren't asking about the whole...flying thing."

The cold metal of her shield sent a calming chill through the Servant's form as the heat of the city dissipated from her person, replaced by the neutral temperament of the evening forest as the world slowly drifted further into the boundless night. She slowly released her grip, with the weapon remaining upright as her free hand parted a strand of lilac hair, granting the Servant a view of her Master, "... I thought about it but... honestly-" A pained chuckle escaped the defender before she continued, "I've dealt with a lot of crazy today... things I really can't tell you about until I get permission from the Director."

As the words escaped, the woman in question heaved behind the pair, desperately trying to claw away at her nausea through sheer force of will to no avail. A slight smirk grew along the Shielder as she observed a pang of guilt spread across her Master's features, finding it a bit funny despite the guaranteed reprisal when the leader recovered. Her shoulders rose and fell with a tired breath, "It wouldn't be right if I just... poked about your business, not when there isn't much for me to give you."

The hybrid took her words in with stride, slowly nodding along with her logic as the sounds of the Director grew louder by the second, as did the feeling of regret within him. He pushed the thought aside, shrugging his shoulders in acknowledgment, "Fair enough-" he glanced toward the wilderness ahead, scanning through the tree line as it shifted with the evening wind as a mild curiosity took hold, "honestly, I was getting tired of seeing that city, at least here things make more sense."

Giving a hum of agreement, the Chaldean took a calming breath, disregarding her earlier anxieties as the calm wilderness took hold over her person, even for the briefest of moments. Her lavender orbs shimmered as they studied the surrounding environment, "I read about it all the time growing up, you know...stupid stories about mysteries and exploration; I always wished I could see it someday but... not like this."

The implication went unsaid, and yet the hybrid knew fully well what she meant, the world was burning around them, and here they were, having a casual conversation with the ruins lying out of sight. But that was just a reality to him, looking away from the devastation to try and carve a sense of normalcy in a dead world. "It doesn't mean you can't try to find something good in a place as awful as this... that's just how life is."

She tilted her head in perplexion, her fingers instinctively rising to push a nonexistent pair of glasses upward before recoiling and falling back toward the ground in awkward realization. "What do you mean?"

A stream of air escaped the warrior's lips as they hummed in idle thought, with his focus gazing upward toward the clouds above. In a few moments, he lightly tapped a closed fist against an open palm as his thoughts settled into place. "If you think about it, we're always dealing with some bad in our lives, but you still smile at the little things; why should something like this be any different?"

The warrior intuitively knew that his actions in the other timeline wouldn't save his own, and yet he still fought with everything they had for the sake of their world. Cell, the Androids, and all the other threats took more of a toll on him than the Saiyan would ever admit, but he wouldn't regret what he did for them. Despite all the hardships, there was a grace to it all, meeting the people his mom spoke so highly about...but especially-

His mind flickered toward an image burned into the hybrid's mind for the rest of his life, a man just a bit shorter than him, yet with an all too familiar group of features, from his tan skin to the narrow-slitted eyes that defined their species, with a set of jet black, gravity-defying hair jutting into the sky. The man held a confident smirk, staring out at some unseen foe as though his supremacy were assured... to most, he was a conquerer, a tyrant, a bastard, the list ran on, but to him... this was his father, Prince Vegeta of the Saiyan race.

Trunks had sacrificed more than most people could fathom for their timeline, but he'd do it again without question, not just because it was the right thing to do, but so that he could meet his dad all over again. Even if most hated the man, the hybrid held him in high esteem, always wanting the approval of the person he lost at such a young age. And even if that war nearly cost him everything, it gave him the strength to fix his own world, so in his mind, there was always hope hidden within the suffering, even if it wasn't always straightforward.

The plant gently swished away from the Servant's grasp in a gentle breeze, its tiny green form flowing with the currents as she observed her Master, her focus drifting between him and their surroundings without any particular object in mind. The statement left a sense of perplexion within her being, not having much experience to know if she agreed with the subject or not, but it made sense in a way...the Chaldean was born sick and weak, but the tragedy at their headquarters granted the defender something new.

As if by instinct, she gripped a fist tight, no longer feeling the weariness of her failing genetics; instead, the Servant felt...strong, like she could do something for the first time in her life. She exhaled a sigh, slowly nodding with the logic, "maybe you're-"

*Cough-Cough

Like a torrent coming to an end with a silent wretch, the Director slowly recovered from her nauseous stupor, taking sharp yet small breaths as she slowly stood upright once more. Her white strands of hair flowed in all directions as her limp arms oriented, gripping into a righteous fist as her yellow orbs glowed in the night. "...you just...flew-" her mouth remained a gap as a pale hand ran along her forehead, swiping away a trail of sweat to the ground below; a dark chuckle escaped the mage as she continued, "but that's not possible... is it?"

Mash recoiled in an instant, her form practically vanishing into nonexistence as the leader's steel melting glare flashed over her, drifting toward the Saiyan as he remained utterly unaware of the brewing storm within the magus as he slowly got up, turning to meet her glare as she ranted to the world itself. "I think I've finally gone off the deep end... that the job...the responsibility... it all got to my head...and I'm just...wandering around in some twisted nightmare where nothing makes sense."

The warrior tilted his head as he saw a paleness overcome the aristocrat's already pearl-like visage as she stood there shivering from some weak aftershock from her episode. His hand traveled upward, readjusting the strap of his sword with a tight pull as he spoke, "I think you just have motion sickness-" He paused while an awkward grimace grew over his face, knowing he was the reason for that, "it might help if you-"

"No, you listen!-"

With a shake of her head, the aristocrat forced her beleaguered form into proper shape, denying herself even a moment of respite to retain the shred of pride left over in her person. She took a step forward, then another, utterly uncaring for the size difference between herself and the swordsman, "You think I haven't met your type before?... Since the day I took my father's role as Director, all I've done is work with morons who think they know all the answers!... I fired every single one of them for one reason."

A rock cracked and broke apart with a stomp from her black heels as her mind reoriented around a lifetime of turmoil and hardship. Her eyes shook as unseen emotions rushed to the surface, directed entirely at a person she had just met as though a dam had finally given way. "Idealism is a disease that makes the most uneducated and stupid of people feel like they know all the answers, that it's so simple, black and white, night and day, and they question every single choice I make... they have no idea what it's really like, working nonstop for a world that doesn't give a damn about how much effort you put in!"

The Saiyan opened his mouth to respond, only to get cut off once again as a thin, pale finger jabbed into his chest, briefly bouncing off with an audible hiss of pain from the Director before crashing back down, "don't get cocky because you have some magical talent; I don't care how impossible it is to fly, anyone can get too high for their own good, and it's my job to let them down early...do you even know what's like, living up to a legacy you can't hope to reach, but everyone just...expects you to do?!"

A sense of calm overcame the hybrid as a lifetime of pained memories surged forward, having to fight an inherited war for the sake of his planet, as his people's only hope for seeing a tomorrow. With the Z-Fighters dead, it all fell on him, a small boy that had to scrounge just to survive, getting pummeled and nearly beaten to death by foes he never truly stood a chance against, but having to get back up, to find a way to get stronger, or else everything would be lost.

The warrior innately knew that this rant wasn't just toward him; hell, he probably just ignited a pressure that had been building for a long while, his own temper not helping the situation, jumping the gun like that wasn't the smart way of doing things. He sighed, looking away into the darkened forest ahead as he spoke with a mixture of understanding and mild grief, "Yeah, I d-"

*Ruffle-Ruffle

A faint sound, utterly inaudible to the natural human senses, echoed across the landscape, the shifting leaves of a plant, yet through instinct alone, the Saiyan's senses stretched across the horizon, feeling a suppressed yet looming presence in the darkness behind him.

*Bump-Bump

Reality slowed as the sound of drawing metal grew louder as a string pulled tight, with the warrior utterly ignorant of his companions as he entered an all too familiar mindset, one honed through a lifetime of war, when only your opponent appeared before all else, as though only they existed.

*Bump-Bump

He remained motionless, his arms slowly falling to their respective sides as he awaited an inevitable strike, his ki slowly rising to the surface from the wellsprings of power hidden deep within the hybrid's form. His species were born and raised for war, with the heat of battle driving them forward into new strength, and even though he was raised on earth by humans alone, the Saiyan could feel the drumming of his heart, anticipating the inevitable onslaught.

*Bump-Bump

*Bump-Bump

*FWING

With an audible screech, the wind broke as metal soared through the air as a dim glow from the moon overhead reflected across its spiraling form, roaring through the night as it raced toward its target from the depths of the shadowed wilderness.

*Bump-Bump

*Bump-Bump

*BOOM

In an instant, the Saiyan's hand shot up as the blade sailed by, his grip landing along the serrated edge as metal grooves dug into his enhanced skin, its momentum coming to a crashing halt as dust blew around the trio. A pair of yellow eyes shimmered mere inches from the pointed barb, watching as a thin trail of blood trickled to the ground below.

With a click of his tongue, the Saiyan tossed the object to the wayside, turning toward the forest beyond as his target lay within the unseen depths, planning their next strike. His purple locks swayed as he shook his head in refusal, his voice reverberated across the land, his allies disappearing to the wayside as his focus remained utterly forward, "Hiding didn't do your friend any good; you might as well come out here and finish what you started."

A flash of motion from his side briefly drew his gaze, watching as his Servant tried to run toward him, shield at the ready, only for her plated boots to drag to a halt, tearing a thin trail along the loose soil as he raised a hand, denying the defender's intentions. The Chaldean's form shifted, ready to respond to any unknown threat as she stood by the hybrid's side, "Senpai, your orders?"

The swordsman didn't pause, nor did his thoughts wander, instead remaining utterly focused on his unresponsive foe, understanding an attack could come at any moment, not worrying for his own safety, but having loose ends by his side complicated things. Trunks didn't know their capabilities, and power levels weren't the end all, be all in his life, but this wasn't the place to take that kind of risk; he wouldn't throw lives away like his father for the sake of a challenge. As his gaze met his ally's, with the tilt of his head toward the Director, the Servant nodded, slowly taking his place as the warrior trudged forward.

A moment passed in silence as the sound of drawing metal rang out once more, the sound bringing a pang of annoyance into the Saiyan's being. He took a step forward, then another, as energy surged within him, his blue eyes flashing against the darkness, thinking back to those chaotic hours hunting Gero in the cold northern mountains of Bells Village, with each second risking their world entirely, not this time, not ever again. The mere thought brought about a deep anger from within as he spoke, his limited patience wholly run out, "Have it your way."

His tan arms shot forward, his fingers clenched into veritable claws as ki surged within him, his power skyrocketing as a white aura erupted across the teen's form. Like a living blur, his limbs flashed into motion, scorching after images into the air, channeling his power through the complexities of Saiyan biology, culminating in a cross laid across his chest as a yellow glow erupted across his digits.

The fighter's fists shook with unbridled power as they shot out, his thumbs and pointers connected like a bridge between two raging storms, finding a connection amidst the chaotic sea. An audible hum broke out as a raging sphere flashed into existence within his palms, its energy crashing out in waves, frying the air around itself as it glowed like a new sun amidst the darkness.

As the hiss grew louder, the Saiyan's purple locks waved along with the synthetic breeze, his enhanced senses hearing a faint, nearly inaudible voice responding from the wilderness, utterly dry, in a monotone similar yet even sterner than the long-armed creature from before. He squinted, trying in vain to ascertain more than a few select words, something about a bone... and a sword? He didn't understand nonsense, nor did the fighter claim to care.

The halfling pushed the matter aside as his attack hummed to life, feeling the burning heat coursing through his entire body, the sensation reinforcing the trials and tribulations it took to reach such a strength, and yet the fight wasn't over. His blue orbs flashed a magnificent green, staring straight toward his target, his senses detecting his presence amidst the maelstrom of energy in this hellish place. His grip clenched, forcing the yellow glow to crash into his hands, the sphere blinding all who tried to peer through its illumination; his gaze steeled as the ball of destruction roared within his grasp, "I hope you enjoy this."

He fired, watching as the miniature sun soared through the atmosphere, burning through all debris that dared cross its path, crashing through the night at untold speeds as it raced toward its target. As the Saiyan watched his attack rage through across the landscape, passing foliage of all shapes and sizes, the screech dwindled, granting the distant voice a new coherence; his blue eyes narrowed as a strange pink light surged into existence from the darkness with a simple phrase, "Aias!"

*CRACK-CRACK

*BOOOOOOOOOOOOM

The planet itself seemed to shake as an explosion unlike any other rocked the earth's surface, a fiery inferno exploding into existence on impact with an unseen object as its energy surged into the surrounding environment, scorching everything in its path. The sphere grew, blanketing what was once a land of wildlife and fauna into a yellow aura of devastation as black bursts of wind rocked the area.

Moments passed as the Saiyan held firm, watching as the cloud of dust slowly began to drift to the wayside with the returning breeze. He refused to budge nor even look away, even as the Director tried to address him, her voice shaken in another bout of disbelief, as though she had seen the impossible. The magus took a step forward, then another, even as the lilac Servant tried to speak her mind, warning her to stay back to no avail, merely getting sidestepped and ignored as if she didn't exist, bringing a frown to the defender's pale features as the leader spoke, "W-what kind of magecraft..."

With a single crunch of a heel along a patch of soft grass, a flash of color in the distance forced the hybrid to raise a hand, denying the finely dressed Director any answer as he cut her off midsentence, his gaze remaining forward at all times. "He's not dead."

While the smoke dissipated, the Animusphere watched as it revealed a world devoid of all life; what was once a land of green lay utter waste. The ground stood cracked and broken, unmoving even as chunks of rock and wood rained down from above across its surface. Where there once stood trees rising high into the sky, blocking all from sight, now remained flat and open, a spot all too reminiscent of the city they had just fled, with nearly no traces of what once was besides-

A flutter of pink slowly appeared from beyond the veil of ash, bringing the leader's thoughts to a halt as she observed its ethereal, flower-like form contrasting with the broken lands surrounding it. The construct stood firm, appearing as though multiple of its colorful petals had broken off, and yet its layered form remained firmly fixed within the air, defying gravity with each moment.

Trunks slowly crossed his arms as his eyes narrowed, watching as the dirty cloud dissipated even more, revealing a prone form, low to the ground as a set of spiked white hair billowed in the breeze. A tan arm gripped its extended counterpart, coated in strange, red lines as its palm remained pointed toward the shield. A pair of yellow orbs met his stare and widened as they slowly observed their surroundings. Within seconds, the man shook his head, forcing himself to stand as the Saiyan huffed in acknowledgment, "Interesting technique; that long-armed friend of yours couldn't even take a single blast."

The swordsman observed the man's form, seeing a strange black armor coating his body, with white lines interwoven amidst the plating as a breeze billowed through the red waistcoat strewn across his belt. He slowly raised a hand; his runes began to glow vibrantly as his digits clenched, forcing the shield to disperse into an array of colorful orbs before vanishing into nothing as he spoke with absolute certainty in his monotone voice, "A fool like Assassin couldn't look past his own urges, I have no use caring for a rabid dog without its leash."

A weight left the warrior's shoulders as the strange white animal leaped off for safer ground; he paid no mind, merely taking a step forward, then another as his foe remained static. "It's funny... I've heard that gimmick more times than you can imagine, you like to think you're different, but really, at the end of the day, when you boil things down, it's all the same."

A flurry of white ki erupted around the hybrid, bringing a scattering of small rocks to a slow lift into the air as his energy soared, "your own selfish pride makes you feel like everything revolves around your goals...anything that doesn't fit the narrative? You just throw to the wind, whether it's your own ally or an innocent person; it doesn't matter to you, does it?"

As the Archer gripped a fist, his focus drifted downward as a flare of purple flames erupted within his grasp as an avatar of blackened metal materialized in a burst of prana. Its midnight form shot into the sky, retaining a darkness even greater than the surrounding night. He studied its features despite its continual presence at his side for a length of time even his weary mind no longer knew, simply a given part of his being, and yet it retained so much meaning even within this state. "You tell me that their lives hold meaning, but reality doesn't care for the concepts of good or evil...nor does the system; it destroys all who get in its way; why shouldn't I do the same?"

A flash of yellow light erupted within his waiting palm as an arrow of spiraling metal flashed into existence, its pure form contrasting with the corrupted red lines strewn about his person. His dull orbs glowed in the dark as he spoke, "I spent a lifetime trying to fight against that ideal, throwing out claims that I could protect everyone, but there's no hope for such grand plans...not in this life...not for people like us... you may possess power, I can see that much, but you'll soon fall into the inevitable void as I did, where limitations define what you can change-"

His eyes briefly closed in contemplation, taking a slow breath as distant embers rained down around his form. As the glowing debris contrasted with his tan skin, they reflected the remote destruction ever present despite their location, acting as a scar that none could escape. "If I can't achieve my goals... then I'll cling to what is possible... to protect the one fragment that never disappears from my mind, no matter the cost, so long as she lives."

The man's grip shifted, bringing the nock of his arrow to an awaiting string, raising his tool of war high as the projectile rested mere inches from his right shoulder. He slowly looked up as a cool breeze billowed through his white hair, forcing the burning debris to dance away from his unmoving form, "That is enough for me-"

His yellow orbs stared into the Saiyan's in an emotionless dull, his expression empty, almost hollow as if a lifetime of war had hardened the Servant into a state beyond being, as though nothing truly mattered anymore. "Do you truly think you can do any different? That you can stop the inevitable?"

A warm wind howled as it traversed the barren landscape, bringing a plethora of dust into the air, flowing between the two as the halfling's gaze fell low, his bangs covering his eyes from sight. "For a long time, I thought the same thing...losing people one by one and being too weak to do a damn thing... it drains you and makes even the simplest of things nearly impossible."

He gripped a fist tight as blood trickled from his wound, splattering to the ground below as his rage began to build, reflecting a life of utter torment brought about by man's selfish desire for power, only to lose control and bring about the end of humanity itself. "But I learned something along the way-"

The warrior took a calming breath, soothing the inner turmoil for a brief moment before his head slowly rose, his fierce, narrow stare burning into the Archer's very being. No longer held back by his own failure, finally having the strength to make a difference; through sheer effort, he had reached a height even his best friend could never have imagined, and that hole still remained in his heart, knowing those days would never come back. Still, the Saiyan would use that pain to take tomorrow back for their world. "Strength isn't just about power; it's a willingness to throw everything away for the sake of another, even if it seems unimaginable to come out on top... it's easy to say you're done, to pack up, go home, and not change a thing, but that's what weakness is-"

The Saiyan slowly reached up, bending his elbow as he grasped the hilt of his inherited blade, feeling the cold steel send shivers through his arm. He slowly pulled as the sound of grinding metal reverberated across the devastation as his sword reflected the dim moonlight from above, soon falling into his waiting grasp as both hands clenched around its grip. Its memories made the tool of war feel that much heavier as the Saiyan remembered who it came from and what it represented, and yet he never let go for even a moment. "What you call a grand ideal, I call doing what's right; it might feel like an impossible weight on your shoulders, but that's what makes you strong, knowing that everything is on you, but it's not just about hope."

His right foot slowly slid back, dragging a trench through the earth as white ki erupted around his form, encircling him and his blade as his shoulders dropped, bringing the sword to his side as its point rested inches about the dirt. His blue eyes flashed green, the pupils briefly disappearing before emerging once more, "I fight because men far better than me did the same before my time, and they fell one by one, trying to do what was right for the world... you didn't just give up on the people, but everyone who believed in you, that hoped you could make a change, and that weakness will be your undoing, Archer."

As the Servant stared at the teen's blade, a sense of foreboding came over his person; with a mere glance at his stance and the way the boy held himself forced the man to react, knowing his preferred means of combat wouldn't work in this situation, but it was more than just survival running through his corrupted mind. No, it was a strange mixture of feelings surging to the surface; from the way he spoke, the swordsman drove a sense of anger interlaced with intrigue...the sensation bringing about an uncertainty from within...as though he had lived through it before, yet having no memories to back such a claim.

His bow erupted in a surge of prana, burning away with the purple flames into nothingness as a new light emerged, illuminating the darkness as his hands lowered, clenching an unseen pair of objects as his stance dropped low. In moments the glow dwindled, revealing an intricate pair of daggers with blackened hilts wrapped in fine silks from far-off lands. Their blades remained a stark contrast, one a pure white, reflecting an innocence long since lost within the man as the other, darker than the night, glowed as red runes danced along its surface.

The Archer's brow furrowed as his boots dragged along the cracked earth, his yellow eyes glowing with unseen power as a wave of deep anger bubbled toward the surface. His mind wandered, only able to wonder why this upstart's words bothered him so much, as though he was seeing a strange reflection of what once was, what foolishness. "Then show me your conviction, boy."

A stillness overcame the scene as both men stood off, with only the howling of the wind and the distant groans of the undead keeping any semblance of activity in this otherwise dead land. One a fallen hero, one who had spent his entire life helping those in need, only to fall into the pits of deceit, having to live in a world of never-ending warfare, killing indiscriminately as per his orders, ultimately falling to despair. The other, a warrior neither truly human nor foreign, an other amidst of sea of earthlings, using his power against far greater foes, willing to sacrifice everything for the sake of his planet, choosing to make a difference no matter the consequences.

*Bump-Bump

*Bump-Bump

*BOOM

The ground erupted into a sea of rubble and rock as the Saiyan rocketed forward in a burst of ki, dragging a veritable trail of destruction behind his blurred form as he raced toward his target. The Servant met his charge, his red waistcoat fluttering with the breeze as he ran to meet the teen head-on.

As the two met within seconds, the hybrid slammed into the earth, his boots cracking through the surface on contact as his inherited sword drifted along the wind, carving through as white air soared across its polished form. His opponent's yellow eyes narrowed as his sprint refused to stop, instead flashing out of sight in a burst of energy, leaving nothing but a fading afterimage in his wake.

The halfling remained utterly calm as his senses extended across the landscape, tracing the man's motions with practiced ease, having faced far greater threats. His momentum carried him forward as his blue orbs remained shut to the world, trailing the man's pathways through his mind alone...behind.

Power surged as the swordsman spun on his heels, dragging chunks of rock into the air as his motion came to a grinding halt before bursting into action as his enemy's blades flickered into existence from above, crashing downward with practiced ease, a killing strike from above, aiming to cleave straight through his skull. The Saiyan swung from below; his blade blasting debris threw the air as it tore through the atmosphere, slamming into his target with practiced ease, held diagonally across his chest, awaiting the inevitable.

*CLANG

Their weapons audibly clashed as magical energy collided with unbridled ki, with opposing forces meeting for the first time in this world's history, similar, yet all too different, only settled by the individual, not the concept itself. Time ground to an utter halt as the blackened void of Archer's blade vanished within the depths of the warrior's narrow blue eyes, staring without fear as his power roared once more, tapping into the nearly unfathomable depths within.

Sparks crackled as the halfling took ground by the moment, his weapon unwavering, having seen far greater threats time and again in his short life. What the hybrid lacked in experience, he compensated with an inherited strength only known to his species, where human limitations meant nothing in the wake of their biological prowess. The Servant held far greater tactic and methodology to his motions, and yet...

It began with the shake of an arm as one force overwhelmed another in nearly an instant, and yet with gritted teeth, the Archer persisted, his wild white hair shifting about as energy billowed off the swordsman like a torrent. With each second lost, the Saiyan pushed more strength forward as his polished sword glowed under the moonlight, its form contrasting with the yin and yang of its opponents before... with an audible screech of metal, his foe faltered.

A pair of yellow orbs shifted, watching as a blindingly white dagger shook more and more by the moment within his clenched right fist. Despite years of training, a less dominant hand would always remain as such; even if it was relegated to a nearly undetectable difference, it would always remain inferior. With a minor slip, the hybrid's sword blasted through the Servant's offense-turned-defense, colliding straight into the hilt of his dagger, blasting the tool of war off as the force shot the man into a spinning incline into the infinite skies above.

The Saiyan followed suit, blasting off in pursuit, defying gravity as he chased his target down through the air itself. His jacket billowed in the breeze as he raised his arms high overhead, the point of his sword gleaming for all to see as he raced to skewer the man in half as the distance closed in an instant.

A pair of yellow eyes flickered to the side, watching as the teen raced toward his undefended form, lightly narrowing in utter focus as a distant whirling blade angled, its downward spiral coming to a halt as it gained momentum, flinging upward. The wind itself screeched as Bakuya defied all reason and logic, blasting toward its unaware target's back as though it had a will of its own.

As the dagger approached, the hybrid swung, his master's sword cleaving through the night as its edge drove into greater speeds by the moment. The Emiya watched as the teen fell right into his trap, with both of their weapons entering a veritable race toward the inevitable, with only one aware of the circumstances. He didn't allow himself a grin nor a sneer at what was to come as his mimicked weapon blasted off, outpacing its foe...he could only observe the sheer determination in the boy's face, making the fire within his core burn that much brighter.

These sights were inevitable in his life, having to take the lives of people who deserved it and those who didn't, and even though the memories had faded long ago, the feelings remained ever present, never leaving him for a moment. There was no point in reacting to such a feat, and yet, some part of the Servant felt a defining moment in this clash, as though he would prove something by ending the teenager's life, what it exactly was, the man couldn't say- but as the ethereal dagger's point drew near, resting mere centimeters from severing the teen's spine...his dull eyes began to close in acknowledgment, narrowing into small slits as the world grew dim, knowing it was ove-

*FWING

The Saiyan disappeared in a blur of motion, leaving little more than a blackened afterimage in his wake as the blade continued its course. The Archer reacted in an instant, ending his feigned stupor with a single outstretched hand as his tool of war spun toward his waiting grip as his yellow orbs flashed about, trying to locate his target to no avail... where was-

*CRUNCH

Bone audibly snapped as the hybrid reappeared beside the Servant, throwing his own blade into the skies high above, grabbing the man's legs with untold force as his sword spun without care, illuminated by the starlight and the distant glow of the city. As the Archer winced in agony, the swordsman burst into action, forcing himself into a rapid spin, dragging the Emiya along with him as the white blade circled the pair, utterly unable to keep up as they vanished in a whirlwind of chaos.

With an audible grunt, Trunks raised the man overhead like a rag doll, slamming down with inhumane strength as his grip slackened, letting his projectile fly toward the ground at breakneck speeds. Without so much as a word, the warrior's palms erupted in a golden light as he shot upward, narrowly avoiding a failed strike from the man's dagger once more, watching as it passed below foot.

*ZZZZZZZT

With a roar of fury, the Saiyan rushed into action, his hands moving at a blinding pace as ki blasted off his palms, only to be replaced by another and another as energy raced downward, crashing through the flying knife as though it didn't exist, lost in the maelstrom as it rained down like hellfire.

*CRASH

A fine red mist erupted from the Servant's mouth as he slammed back first into hardened rock, his battle-hardened form sprawled out, utterly unmoving as a layer of dust billowed around him. Yet, through the veil, an ethereal glow grew brighter by the moment, drawing closer as the surrounding atmosphere began to burn with a heat, unlike anything the Emiya had ever experienced. His eyes could only widen before the bombardment struck true.

*BOOOOOOOOOOM

Moments passed as steam billowed off the Saiyan's hands as he sighed away a nonexistent exhaustion, observing the obliterated landscape below, lined with craters of all shapes and sizes. As his spinning sword reached peak of its upward climb, it spun as its point aimed downward, falling to the forces of gravity. With a simple lean to the side, the hybrid took satisfaction in hearing his blade slide into its home once more, clicking shut for only him to witness.

The halfling let his ki fall, slowly lowering himself to the ground as the wind dragged his purple locks upward, but as the earth drew near, a heavy panting broke out through the layers of ash and smog wafting through the air. But as the teen's boots made contact, a voice broke out through the dwindling mist, "ju-...just what are you?"

Trunks raised a brow as a familiar figure slowly and painfully rose to his feet through the debris, appearing as little more than a shambling shadow as it took one step, then another before breaching through, revealing Archer once more. His left hand gripped a limp right arm, utterly burned to oblivion as his white hair remained matted down through layers of ash. His armor, once so proud, remained tattered and broken, with fragments of red silk fluttering through the wind.

As the man struggled to maintain his composure, the Saiyan raised a brow, surprised a human could even survive an attack like that...must have avoided a direct impact somehow but didn't escape unscathed. He shook his head, both denying the question and himself, knowing full well just what their species was capable of; he wouldn't underestimate them. He gripped a fist instinctively, having heard the same question time and again, never finding an answer for them or himself; "Who knows? Everyone thinks something else when you live a life like mine."

The fighter lowered his stance as his right arm retracted, his left extended, planting his feet along the battered landscape as energy bubbled upward once more. A white wind erupted across his form, blasting away the layers of grime surrounding the Saiyan as he spoke, "let's end this, Archer."

With a pained sigh, the Servant slowly released his grip, his arm briefly falling to the wayside, limply dangling toward the ground as the red runes began to glow, forcing his broken bones to clench as blood flowed from open wounds. His gaze remained low as a grimace grew along his tan features, no longer guided by hatred but by a roaring desire to know, to comprehend the figure before him, "I asked you...what you are, not what others think of you..." his battered body broke out into a fit of coughing, forced to silence by willpower alone, "if you won't tell me...then I'll find it myself."

In a flash of prana, a surge of red lightning erupted along the man's clenched fist as the runes spread across his broken form; even as he winced in agony, he refused to relent for even a moment. His arm twitched as fried nerves forcibly drove his palm upward as every ounce of strength left in his figure materialized the object of his desire within the Archer's mind, his open palm not facing the perplexed Saiyan...but his sword, his erupting in a long thought lost sense of righteous fury as a strange mystic seal burst into existence within his grasp, "Trace...on!"

Trunks watched as the glow began to burst and spread upward through the man's grasp, taking an all too familiar shape before the light flaked off, soon fading away into nothingness along with the proverbial storm of power it came from, leaving a glimmering sword jutting into air, held within a shaking hand...his sword. His blue eyes narrowed, having seen a similar trick before. Apparently, Namekians weren't the only ones capable of it...not that it mattered, the man was already on his last legs, but as the Saiyan observed him...the Servant seemed...lost, as though he were in disbelief, staring at the teen, then at the blade, again and again.

Thoughts, memories, and associated identities flowed through the Archer as his feelings shifted from anger to perplexion, to utter shock as a story unlike anything the man could have expected became all too apparent...It had seen everything, acquiring a legend through its owners, passed down from teacher to pupil, and facing foes unlike anything the once hero could ever imagine...his questions came to an abrupt halt, no longer wondering about the source of the boy's power, or refusing to accept his ideals as truth, but instead comprehending something else...something not entirely human.

Archer stared at the boy, no longer feeling the sense of hatred driving him forward, as though he had peaked away from those feelings at the glimpse of something similar to what he strived to be a long time ago. Those fierce blue eyes spoke of an untold story of pain, suffering, and loss on a scale he thought impossible, and yet no matter the risk, this teenager kept getting back up to protect those in need.

*Bump-Bump

With a wince of pain, blood pooled on the ground below as the Servant's broken arm writhed before gripping the sword with its counterpart, no longer shaking but utterly steady. Everything culminated in this one last test to settle the burning familiarity within himself. His yellow eyes flickered to a brilliant bronze before vanishing into the mire once more, "now...show me your resolve...Trunks."

*CRACK

The ground burst and tore as the Emiya raced across a barren land, his mind no longer drawn toward protecting just one, but instead utterly focused on the path ahead, his red cloak tearing and fragmenting with each step taken, and yet he paid no mind. There was nothing left to give except himself for the cause, something he never doubted, but something else drove him; it was spark of the ideals he once stood for, all reflecting in a hybrid between man and an unknown.

His grip turned, allowing the copied sword to drag along the ground, tearing through the surface without a care as its weight seemed to vanish within the roaring fire of his beliefs. But as his foe drew near, the magus lurched back, his shoulders clenched as the blade began to swing through the air once more.

The Saiyan responded in kind, raising his hands to his head as his fingers outstretched, making contact with his tan skin as ki erupted to the surface in a blinding white light, "Solar Flare!" As the Servant instinctively tried to shield his gaze, the cloned blade missed, slamming into the earth as it fell from his grasp.

Trunks wasted no time, rushing forward as power flowed through his limbs; reaching the Archer in an instant, he slammed his boots down, dragging himself to a stop as his right arm retracted, violently shaking as it clenched shut before lunging forward, straight into the man's torso.

*CRUNCH

His fist tore through bone, blood, and gore, all breaking apart into nothingness as the Saiyan tore clean through the Servant's body, lifting him into the air as his limb extended through his back, coated in a fine red layer. The Emiya tried to gasp, only for a torrent of liquid to spill from his mouth, splattering along the boy's jacket as his strength dissipated into nothingness.

The hybrid closed his eyes, exhaling his frustrations to the wind as his power began to dwindle, feeling the man's breaths slow as he held him upright, awaiting the inevitable. The man simply watched him from above, staring in a mixture of feelings hard to describe, forcing himself to speak with bloodied teeth and little air left to give, choosing to ignore the gentle purple flames erupting along his torso. "Tell me something... do you truly mean what you say... that all life... is precious...?"

A distant pair of footsteps drew closer as the swordman's allies approached, calling out his name, and yet he didn't respond, entirely focused on the figure before him. His blue orbs opened to the world once more, staring ahead, far beyond the pathway, landing upon a distant crevice, a darkened opening where this would all come to an end. "It's something I'll always fight for, even if it's hopeless; that's just how I am."

As the words took hold, a somber feeling overcame the fallen hero, his stare becoming gentle as the flames began to overtake his form, traveling upward as his body began to fall away into the sea of nothingness awaiting him, and yet it didn't bother him. It went unspoken, but he had gained an understanding of the boy that few could fathom, even if it was general... he had lost one species and couldn't lose another. "Is that so?...then...someday-"

A small smirk grew along his tan features as the anger utterly vanished from his person, no longer contaminating his thoughts with a wrath unfit for his person, replaced with something different...something hopeful. His arms vanished into colorful particles, leaving merely a husk of what once was a hero unlike any other, "...I'd like you to summon me...as myself...not...this failure."

Despite the Saiyan only having the smallest of understandings of the workings of a Master, Mash had told him enough to comprehend what the man meant. He took a slow breath as the flames overtook the Servant's head, leaving little trace of humanity within their burning glow; he spoke, "As long as you get back on the right path."

An ethereal chuckle broke out as the Emiya vanished in a blinding array of dancing lights, his voice echoing out from some unseen land before disappearing along with his body, "I'm looking forward...to seeing you grow... Trunks."

The teenager simply stood there, lowering his arm as he stared up at the glowing moon above, finding a new determination within himself, knowing there was still work to do, but also finding solace in a lost yet kindred spirit roaming somewhere far beyond where he stood. "We'll meet again, Archer."

...

And that's a wrap! Hopefully, my take on things hasn't driven anyone insane, and if it did, it is what it is, lol.

With everything said and done, take it easy, and I'll see you guys in the next one; cheers!