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.

4. A New Mode

Welcome back to another edition; as usual, we have some quick author's notes to get out of the way before diving into another chapter.

The support for this story has been a lot more of a relief than most would believe; I'm aware there's a lot of anxiety about trusting DBZ and, more generally, meathead shonen crossover's with serious series like Fate, but people seem to like the idea, which is fantastic for me.

I've gone through all of the comments and taken a lot of your advice to heart, and a few have hit the nail on the head for how I'm planning for this story to operate, but I do want to clear a few things up; Faded Dawn is mainly going to run along character relationships and development revolving around a lead that is almost nothing like your traditional Fujimaru. Trunks is highly confrontational and unwilling to tolerate things he thinks are wrong, albeit as a person, the hybrid still needs to find his place in the world and what he actually wants to do with his life.

This story hopes to continue a few things from the original Dragon Ball Z that sadly fell to the wayside, starting with the Buu-Saga and getting worse throughout Super. First and foremost, I want to maintain the mythical/legendary aspects of the Saiyan race, in particular, Super Saiyan, TLDR; there won't be any of the S-cell retcons, amongst other things, the form and its extensions will get the respect they deserve, I'm not going to just give them to Trunks for no reason, he will genuinely earn his power-ups over time.

Don't get me wrong; Super isn't the worst thing to ever exist, but its execution had a lot of flaws that sadly ruined a lot of characters in both design and personality. If I'm being blunt, Future Trunks will always be a purple-haired swordsman built like a brick shithouse in my headcanon. I hope to keep his original personality laden with the difficulties of growing up in a wasteland, just wanting to do good for others so they won't have a world like his; it's always my goal to have my MC remain as accurate as possible in these circumstances, so don't worry too much about anything OOC, it would bother me too, lol.

Another quick thing of note; Servants will remember previous encounters and events within this narrative and other Fate storylines within reason; I've mentioned it before, but it hurts development if half of the stuff they've been involved in no longer counts. For a rule of thumb, for the most part, we won't summon Servants that Trunks has not met before, there will be exceptions to this, but I'd prefer to build ground on familiarity rather than just throwing them all into Chaldea; it makes things a bit more exciting and coherent.

Otherwise, I honestly don't have much else to say, this opportunity has been a lot of fun, and I'm excited to see where it's going; my beta reader, Chris, and I have mapped out a fair bit of the storyline through the singularities so far, but I will make an additional note. After a bit of debate, we agreed to cover some of the events and side arcs we deemed necessary. Only some Servants will have that opportunity, just the ones important to the story; otherwise, progress would practically be nonexistent, but our cast will have much to work with, so it should still be a lot of fun, and with that out of the way, let's get into this!

...

"I'm not going to die! Not even if this body is destroyed, there will be another who will rise and carry out my last wish." -Future Gohan.

...

A chair audibly creaked as a figure slumped back, trusting his momentary fall before colliding with the soft cushion below as he let out yet another sigh, raising a free hand to pinch between his eyes as the world went dark for just a brief moment, his thoughts wandering.

Dark, just like the rest of their world had become since this catastrophe started, now everything felt like just another slap in the face...every person that had left the facility stopped responding, not that they heard anything otherwise, but could one even claim it began today? Perhaps it started with the death of the Director, forcing his only daughter to take his place at such a young age.

A grimace grew along the man's lightly tanned features as he thought back to that young, bright-eyed girl with far too much attitude for her own good, running through the halls of this facility, giving snark to anyone that dared question her way of doing things. For a second, a pained smile overtook him; to most, they had considered the heiress of the Animusphere family a dud, an incapable Master, and so they disregarded the new Director, trying to take what should have been hers, yet through sheer grit, the girl had made a name for herself, throwing anyone who disagreed to the wind, all with the intention of keeping this place running.

He ignored the consistent rhythm of the surrounding machinery as it blurred to life, operated by the handful of survivors still keeping the lights on in this hidden place beneath so many layers of rock and ice. His life was that of a leader, he knew sacrifice came as a necessity at the worst of times, that it was simple logic, few for the many, yet there always had to be an exception. His wish to become human had made creating a bond that much easier and all the more painful to lose one, and despite her hostility toward any minute flaw, it had made that young Director endearing in a way, knowing that beneath those layers of spite and disapproval was a soul wanting the best for those around her and now? Gone...erased alongside the rest of the Singularity, his heart hurt...filled with...regret.

Loss was one of the things the Doctor struggled with the most, the uncomfortable reality that years if not decades, of hard work, could disappear in an instant, leaving him alone to pick up the pieces. A pair of tired green eyes slowly reopened to the world, staring ahead at a blank console showing nothing, all but confirming his thoughts. It had happened so many times before that he couldn't help but wonder if it became a complex at times...leaving the Director to vanish alone, just because he lacked the courage to stay by her side for even a second... another sadness to accept as his ow-

*Tap

The Doctor came to a pause as a gloved hand gently fell atop his shoulder; his gaze traveled along its silken azure lengths, trailing through an array of dazzling brown locks before meeting a shimmering pair of blue eyes, staring down with a sense of both remorse and understanding as a reassuring voice rang out, "You've had a rough day, haven't you, hm, Director?"

The word sent a shiver through the Chaldean's spine, ignoring the famous inventor as she leaned over his shrinking frame, studying the blank screen with the same interest he...she approached everything in her life. The former Servant shrugged, sinking just a bit more, "Yeah...first day, and everything is on fire; what a promotion, huh?"

The man fell into sputters as a magenta-lined cape fell over his eyes, the world briefly turning into an array of silk and golden lining as she responded with just a hint of annoyance, leaning over the console as she typed through various commands, multitasking to perfection as expected from the world's greatest inventor, "You're always going on about the negatives, Romani-" she gave him a playful shove before diving back in her work, "do you really want poor little Mash to see you down in the dumps?"

With an audible groan, the man gently flicked the material off of him, leaning up in his seat as he stared beyond at the window beyond his projected monitor, idly watching as a fiery earth spun lazily in place. Knowing the Servant was right, the poor girl had been through hell and back today and needed someone to rely on, and it was his responsibility to help her get through today; that's what a 'parent' does...placing a hand on each armrest, the Chaldean slowly pushed himself upright."Yeah...no rest for the wicked."

Slowly rising to his feet, the man ran a hand through his fluffy orange hair, not particularly caring which way it fell, before striding toward the window, watching as a handful of workers droned through their various tasks as one of the coffins whirled back online. He frowned at the sight; all of this was usually the work of hundreds, if not more, of the most talented people the world had to offer; even calling this a skeleton crew was something of a joke; Chaldea practically needed an army to remain operational...this was going to take far more coffee than they had on hand.

The once-Israelite placed a gloved hand atop the transparent material, glancing toward the bulge of his ring through the white running along his fingers before shaking the thought away. Responsibility was something the man frowned upon in this life, as though everything he had built up would crumble into dust at having to lead once again, but what choice was there? None of the mages at the facility had the know-how or the expertise to keep this place running...whether or not he did remained up for debate and Da Vinci?-

He glanced over his shoulder at the almost mad scientist as she happily mumbled notes to herself about something revolutionary or other, his smile lightly returning, knowing that she was one of the few constants in his life...But the inventor was never going to lead; she had far too much on her plate as it already was, and the man didn't have the heart to throw even more on top of her. The Doctor raised a brow in curiosity, somehow already knowing the answer yet wanting to ask anyways, "It's rare to see you in the command room...I'm guessing you're here to meet that time traveler of ours?"

Right...the purple-haired powerhouse that fell out of the sky and into their laps...a living enigma that shouldn't exist, the Future was cut off yet...there he was, somehow fighting against Heroic Spirits on equal ground and coming out on top time and again with a strength the man wouldn't believe unless he had seen it with his own eyes; even the Archaman couldn't deny that he was both curious and incredibly suspicious...like the Director said, it felt too convenient.

It felt like a poorly organized plan; first, Chaldea is almost entirely destroyed, and their only remaining Master dies on the battlefield...then he pops out of nowhere and takes his place...call him a pessimist, but the man had his reasons to doubt that story, but what choice was there? Either they invite a complete stranger into the last bastion of mankind or wait for the inevitable falter if Chaldeas were to fail...No, they would just have to keep an eye on things and see if his story was on-the-ball.

At that moment, the Caster glanced up from her work as a familiar gleam of excitement reflected in her vibrant blue orbs, the color contrasting with her pearl-like skin as a child-like grin spread across her features. "Oh, you can't say you aren't curious-" she raised an arm, pinching two of her fingers together, "even a little bit?"

He snorted at the comment, idly observing the portrait-like Italian for a brief moment before shrugging his shoulders, his ID tag gently swaying with the motion, "An even fifty-fifty..." he suppressed a yawn before continuing, "I don't where you get the energy for all this; I'm in charge for a few hours and already want to crawl under my desk."

The Florentine whimsically smiled, clicking her tongue as though she disapproved of something, taking a slow breath as the woman gracefully exhaled away her frustrations, "I suppose I just enjoy seeing new things; it's like every day is a little adventure, pick something apart, figure out how it works and set it loose for others to enjoy-" The Caster tilted her head in thought before continuing, "You did the same for little Mash, what makes this so different?"

His frown returned; Mash was a bit of a sore spot for the Doctor; sure, they had helped bring the girl into existence, and the Chaldean would never regret having her in his life, but the way it happened was...he shook the thought away, choosing not to dwell on that topic for too long. Romani's green eyes shimmered just a bit before responding, "He's just another unknown; I-"

A sigh from the Servant broke his thoughts as she pushed off the desk, twirling her cape back into position with the grace expected of such a legendary figure, "An unknown is only that which you haven't understood yet-" the inventor gently strolled beside the Doctor, gazing out to the crowd below as they finalized their procedures, "A new face might be refreshing for someone that likes to be cooped up like you~"

A chuckle escaped the man as he turned, watching one of the many coffins begin to release a vibrant trail of steam as it came online; his gaze drifted toward the woman's reflection along the glass as a playful smile overcame his features once again, "You just want someone to tinker with, don't you?-" seeing her bristle just a bit at the comment, his smirk grew, "You're as biased as they come, Da Vinci."

The Doctor scratched his chin awkwardly, as though he were considering saying something rude in front of a new crowd, uncertain of the reaction before his counterpart wagged a finger back and forth before cutting him off entirely, "oh please, everyone has a little preference here and there, curiosity makes the world go round as they say~."

He raised a brow, crossing his arms in idle thought as they watched the device slide open, revealing a faint blur of lilac before it vanished behind a cloud of smoke; the Archaman had to fight the urge to go check on the girl, innately knowing that she was fine down there, having far more pressing matters to discuss here and now. As his gaze studied the dispersing trail of vapor, he practically mumbled, "And what's making you so nosy today?"

With a gentle hum, the Italian clasped her hands behind her back, her smile growing a bit as a faint outline of a familiar face, kneeling on the ground as they caught their breath below, came into view. As her gloves audibly pulled, she spoke with both sincerity and elegance as always, "Do you know what makes an inventor, Director?..." getting no response, she continued, "It's not something so simple as creating something new, or even unveiling some scientific breakthrough or other, those types of things are reserved for reclusive intellectuals, more interested in their own gain than anything else."

She shook her head as strands of her dark silken hair swished along with the motion, settling into place as she came to a stop, glancing at the man from the corner of her eye. "It's simplicity...any great mind is capable of understanding a concept with enough time, but the goal of an inventor is to make that which is difficult to fathom more...palatable to the average person, to let them know why your work is meaningful."

Romani idly cupped his chin, staring down at the level below as he considered the Caster's words; simple was one way to describe that stranger; everything seemed straightforward with him...given the kid's build, one would think his solution would be to punch it and think later but, looks can easily be deceiving, the Chaldean knew that all too well. "...So you think he's smarter than he's letting on?"

She shook her head in denial, rolling her eyes at the man's ever-distrustful nature, even if it was hidden behind layers and layers of kindness and humility, "I'm not claiming anything, Romani, it's just an observation...people often take simplicity as an insult, when really, it's far more complex than that... an average person would see Fuyuki, or even what happened to Chaldeas and the entire world and buckle then and there, but that boy?"

The inventor turned to face him, leaning her side against the glass as she stared into his withering green eyes, "He landed in an unfamiliar time and place...He should have felt scared, alone, and terrified, but instead, he saw a crisis and tried to help when we couldn't do a thing for Mash or the Director; I think it's worth letting his actions speak for themselves."

He let out a slow sigh, figuring this was going to be a long night of debate between him and the few workers still left around the facility; yeah...elitist mages and a completely unknown new Master that apparently doesn't use magic...fantastic, just what the Doctor order-wait...no he didn't order this at all. He deadpanned, watching as Mash slowly rose to stand once again as a white blob emerged from the pod, jumping onto her shoulder as its tail lightly waged, his eye twitching at the sight of that awful armor in person, "And you just want to talk to him about that machine of his."

Without missing a beat, the Servant's smile grew as her eyes closed shut, simply letting the environment take over as her grip tightened behind her back, her knuckles popping in anticipation. "Oh, you have no idea~."

...

Minutes later

A slow yet steady set of steps traveled up an ever-climbing set of metallic stairs from the depths below, one of the deepest parts of the facility, both out of necessity and for security purposes, although the Servant understood the logic behind putting Chaldeas so deep underground, she could never comprehend why they didn't install an elevator.

With a grunt of disapproval, she took another step forward, her legs threatening to buckle beneath her; in one hand, she held a shield larger than your average person, trying to balance it without the thing clanging against the floor every five seconds, the workers gave the Kyrielight enough looks to drive more embarrassment into her soul than the girl could handle; she hated being the center of attention...It was a strange thing; she had appeared back in Chaldea without the object, only for it to materialize in her hand in a burst of light the second she thought about it...had to get a handle on that someday, but-"

"Fou?"

Pausing for a moment, Mash glanced toward her right shoulder, feeling a blob of fur rubbing against her face; having her hands full, the Chaldean could do little more than nuzzle her cheek against the little animal, half mumbling, "I'm alright Fou...just...-" she sighed, lightly wincing as images of a burned city and the faces of her lost friends tore into her for just a second before being shaken away, her forced smile returning soon after, "I'm just tired is all."

The squirrel-like creature tilted its head in perplexion, its beady blue eyes studying the girl as though it didn't believe a word she said. With another one of its hums, the animal slowly crawled down the girl's arm, reaching the small device her Senpai had given her before chomping down on its corner, lifting it into the air and leaping back onto her shoulder, the sight bringing a slight spark back into her dull orbs. Mash reached a now free hand up, scratching a finger along Fou's head as it wags its ears in response.

As she trudged upward, the girl couldn't help but think back on how obscene today felt; with questions running wild, she didn't know which ones to ask first; first and foremost, just how smart was Fou? Sometimes the little guy seemed like a normal pet...if the word suited him...her...it? And others...forget it...Fou was more intelligent than some people the demihuman knew. Mash sighed, knowing there was no answer to this so long as Fou only said one word... it's not like she could ask her tiny friend what its opinions were. Her gaze soon fell upon the metallic object hanging between its teeth, the sight reminding the Servant to keep moving forward.

A faint echo traveled across what was once a populated sector of a desolate continent, each step sounding off forever in the neverending confines of the only place the girl could ever call home. Was it the best idea to invite a complete stranger here?... The thought had crossed Mash's mind more than once since she met that strange boy who seemed to defy anything and everything she understood; everything about him was like a mystery that needed to be solved; she was a curious person by nature, having spent most of her life underground, the Chaldean had learned to live vicariously through her stories, to experience the Earth through the eyes of whatever character lay before her, but now?

Mash shook her head in frustration, her gaze falling upward as her purple eyes flickered against the looming lights above; she felt like a character in a story she had no hope of understanding, meeting some lost time traveler on a quest she had no idea about; just what was Trunks doing before they met?... How can someone like him even exist? Where the demihuman struggled to even figure out what her phantasm was, he had powers unlike anything she had ever seen and played it off like it was nothing; she wanted to ask about everything, but-.

A tingling heat overcame the Servant's pale features as the mere thought of asking a personal question entered her head; Mash had almost no experience talking to people her age...it was a cycle she had no hope of breaking, whether it was in training or even with the Master candidates, the Chaldean never knew what to say or do around other people without looking awkward...would it be rude to ask?... Would he get mad?...

In that moment, a tingle of fear trickled throughout the defender's person, overwhelming all other feelings as she thought of the last time she failed her Master...buried beneath layers of flaming rubble in a time and place that didn't even exist anymore. She shook her head in denial, trying to force the thought away, yet the mere idea of doing wrong again sent yet more pangs of guilt running through her heart...would he hate her if she asked?...

The Chaldean moved on a sort of autopilot as her ears began to ring, with static running through every fiber of her being, stuck in that exact moment, watching the life fade from her first Master's face again and again...knowing and fully believing that it was her fault...she failed him. Mash's eyes burned at the word as it echoed again and again within herself; she was a failure as a student...a person...and even a Servant...she couldn't do it again...never again...never agai-"

"Mash!"

*CLAP

The sound of two hands smacking together broke the girl's stupor as she gazed around in confusion, seeing an array of holographic monitors displaying various facets of data while others remained entirely offline in this empty room reserved for the most trusted workers in the facility as they worked through the strict protocols surrounding a rayshift, where execution and operation meant the difference between life and nonexistence. When had she reached the Command Room...how long was she just standing there?

"Your head in the clouds again?"

With a mild jump of surprise, the Chaldean's unsteady gaze focused, falling down onto a familiar set of fluffy orange hair as a pair of kind green eyes met her stare, adorned atop a gentle smile. Even seeing the Doctor after everything today sent waves of joy through the girl's tired heart; she wanted nothing more than to ask for a hug or at least something to make her think of anything other than today from the only person she could call a father figure...but years of training kept her in line. She took a slow breath, calming her frayed nerves before answering, her tone utterly devoid of energy,"Sorry Doctor, -...I mean Director...-" she briefly glanced to the side, watching as her favorite inventor gave a mock thumbs up from behind the man before continuing with a sigh, "it's been a long day."

He gave a slight nod of understanding, leaning his side against the glass window as he crossed his arms. The Israelite idly blew air through his closed lips, hoping to awkwardly clear the tension in the air before disregarding it entirely, but he could always hope for an easy way out. With a shrug of exhaustion, he brushed a layer of built-up soot and dust off his usually pristine white lab coat, "Even you're calling me Director now?..."

He groaned in feigned annoyance, the sight bringing a slight smile back to the Chaldean at his usual antics before continuing, shoving a hand into a pocket as his fingers twirled around something buried within, "God, you're a Servant, and I'm the boss, can today any weirder?-" The implications went unspoken, with both sides knowing just how much worse off the world beyond Chaldea's borders was...if one could call the barren, empty place the Earth at all, neither could honestly say.

A few seconds of silence persisted as neither wanted to answer his inquiry before the Doctor's expression shifted, his studious eyes going over the defender, checking for anything wrong with a focus only known to a doting parent, a slight frown growing along his face as he spoke, "You feeling alright? You had a few rough spots out there, Mashed Potato."

*BEEP

Fou's ears twitched at a sudden sound, like an artificial warning of some kind, so quiet only the creature's enhanced senses could detect it. With a tilt of its head, its tiny blue eyes watched as a light on the device blipped online, shining a flashing green as it turned off and on, growing more rapid by the moment.

Turning red in mortification, the Chaldean turtled in on herself before exploding in what could only be called a shout using a librarian's level of volume, her purple eyes glowing in a fury, "I told you not to call me that anymore; it's embarrassing!-" Staring down at the ground like a pouting child, she could only mumble, "I'm fine...no damage to report."

*BEEP-BEEP

Clicking his tongue, Romani pushed off the wall, placing his gloved hands against his hips as he leaned forward, "Mash, ignore the technicalities for a second; I'm not asking for a field report; I want to make sure you're okay."

*BEEP-BEEP-BEEP

Shuffling around in place, the Servant's facade of bravado started to crack, but she refused to let it go, stubbornly holding on even as tears threatened to break once again, needing to prove herself to everyone that she could do this. With a sharp breath, she forced her unwilling eyes to meet his stare, half mumbling, "I'm fine, Doctor-" slightly furrowing her brow, the Servant continued, "Senpai did most of the fighting anyways."

*BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP

With a deadpan, the new Director decided to leave this topic for later, but it was on a list of about fifty things he needed to say about that girl of his, like that Servant 'outfit' of hers...he raised her better than to wear something so revealing, but first..."Fine...we'll...wait-" realization set in. The man quirked a brow, a question coming to mind, "W...Where do you put that beacon of his?"

Mash hummed, glancing toward her free hand, her eyes narrowing in suspicion; it was just there; where did it-...

*BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP

In an instant, the Servant's vision turned into a field of white as Fou, without so much as a word, turned and threw the device from its mouth, the Director stumbling backward as it bounced around in his hands before settling down, confusion running high before-

*RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

Time remained at a standstill as a familiar object began to flicker in an out of existence, its massive size far too large for the room it had entered, in a reality far from its origin, yet there it was, hovering above the ground mere feet about the man's head, with only the sound of buckling metal and cracking glass a sign of its existence coming into place.

Some moments in history are defined as a turning point, a snapshot of time in which the human experience changed forever more, where actors, larger than life, rose to face impossible odds for the sake of their fellow man. Chaldea acted as a bastion of that hope, a beacon in the face of the destruction of everything humanity had been and ever will be; it was a mantle of responsibility few men could even fathom, but at that moment, these factors fell to the wayside. Doctor Romani stood firm, eyes wide open in terror, a relentless shiver running through his person as he stared up at the materializing yellow object overhead, teeth exposed for the world to see as he remained utterly still in disbelief, and all the good Director could wonder in that second was...why?

*BOOOOOM

As hundreds of pounds of glass and metal exploded across the room, raining down on top of the Doctor, the blast rocketed a figure from a surging plume of black smoke, impacting against the main console as their form tore through solid steel as the entire room was shrouded in a thick haze of smog.

Mash tried to take a surprised gasp, only to fall into a sputtering mess as she coughed up a lung, instinctively dropping her shield as she tried to cover her mouth, only able to watch as the hairs on the back of Fou's neck began to stand on end, its sharpened teeth exposed as the little creature launched off her shoulder, clearing through the fog as it spun like a veritable wheel of death. The animal's spin suddenly turned, its momentum carrying it straight downward toward its target as its legs rotated, lashing out with a vicious overhead kick aiming directly for its enemy's stomach, roaring all the way.

*SCHWIP

Faster than the Chaldean could perceive, a pair of tan hands shot out of the cloud, catching Fou by its sides as the squirrel-like creature wriggled, and stopped dead in its tracks in less than a second. As the sound of bending metal tore through her senses, a familiar, coarse voice rang out from the darkness, "Oh...it's you...You're still mad about the flying thing?"

With a hiss, Fou tried to kick and twist its way out of their grasp, not even moving so much as an inch before its angry blue eyes gleamed downward, "Fou!"

A scoff broke out as the dust began to slowly shift out of the way, revealing a pair of dark purple sleaves shooting up into the air, "How was I supposed to know you were stuck in her hair?"

The animal flicked its own curled locks back as if mocking the very words the figure was saying, its glare intensifying all the while, "...Fou Fou Fou!"

His arms shifted, dragging the little entity along for the ride, helpless to escape his grasp as the teen moved him around overhead, "I did not forget you; stop being dramatic."

Mash could only squint in absolute perplexion as she watched Fou having an actual conversation, with its ears swishing about, fangs exposed as though it wanted nothing more than to pick a fight with the person below, "Fou!"

As the smoke finally gave way, revealing a distinctive set of purple hair and narrow blue eyes, the teen's focus shifted as he was talking to the animal, trailing the room before landing on someone, "Don't you bring my mother into thi-" he paused, "Oh, hi Mash."

There he was, the same person she had met all those years ago, technically, but minutes ago from her perspective. A boy she had no clue about, a mysterious stranger who showed up out of the blue and decided to help for little more than a chance to finish whatever journey he was on. The sight brought a sense of relief to the Servant, that there was still a chance to do things right this time...so that she would never fail another Master again. And as her gaze fell upon the emblazoned command seal atop his right hand, she could only sigh but give the slightest of smiles, "Hi, Senpai..." wait, was she forgetting someth-

"My back..."

The duo looked down, seeing the good Doctor buried beneath the machine as he reached toward the hybrid, or rather the console he had just smashed into tiny pieces, "my computer..."

Getting a sheepish look on his face, the halfling tried to shuffle off of the device, only to sink further into the metallic components as electricity jolted around him, though he paid it literally no mind, not even feeling the voltage coursing through him, only giving the faintest of smirks as he watched Fou's hair stand on end, making the little animal into a living ball of fluff as it hissed at him.

With a shrug, the warrior funneled enough ki through himself to gently lift off the wiring, hovering in the air as his legs rotated toward solid ground, biting his cheek as he assessed the damage; the top of the time machine was basically FUBAR...well...more like it tried to materialize in a solid ceiling and literally exploded because of it, the resulting blast knocking its front leg loose, landing on top of the Doctor in a heap.

Trunks looked down at the angry animal in his hands and the suffering Director below him, knowing that a sacrifice had to be made here, and without so much as a bit of hesitation, let go of Fou, with the angry creature immediately crawling up his arm, perching atop his shoulder as it slugged him in the face again and again with its tiny paws, each making a small pop on impact. With a sigh, the hybrid lowered himself, gripping the machine by its edge as he made eye contact with the Archman's green orbs, "Well, it's not how I pictured us meeting, but...sorry about that."

With an audible creak, the multiton device drifted into the air, raised by a single hand as though it weighed nothing. And with a finger, the swordsman reached beneath the giant construct, tapping a button along its underside, returning it to its capsule form in a cloud of smoke. The sight of his mom's greatest invention in such a state drove waves of anxiety through the Saiyan, knowing it would take weeks to fix that kind of damage, but thank Kami it wasn't the power supply that exploded; chronal energy was so unstable its effects were utterly unpredictable...they might have been thrown into some random timeline or worst case, erased from existence...but he'd keep that piece of info to himself.

The good Doctor took a needed breath of relief, having endured so much blame and pressure over the years that a few tons wouldn't stop him by any means. He looked up, seeing the hybrid offering him a hand as Fou continued its assault on him, the teen still somehow ignoring it entirely. With a sigh, he took the gesture, feeling weightless for just a moment before suddenly being on his feet again. Taking a moment to dust himself off once again, the new Director spoke, all too done with today, "Well, we did tell you to land inside, could have stuck the landing a bit better, don't you think?"

Trunks shrugged the passive-aggressive jab off entirely, glancing around the room as it felt weirdly familiar, random terminals, almost no decoration besides the occasional corporate logo...the whole place smelling like the most pungent cleaning chemicals imaginable...yep, that sounded like home. He crossed his arms, lightly wincing as his wound burned at the motion, "In my defense, I usually land a few miles off target; time gets kinda soupy when you go long dist-"

*PFFFT

The fighter's sentence was cut short as Fou jabbed a paw into his open mouth, sending the Saiyan into a sputtering mess as he spat the digit out, grabbing the animal by the scruff of its neck as he held it in front of him, his narrow blue eyes staring straight into its equally annoyed gaze, "You have an attitude problem."

"Fou!"

He deadpanned, thinking back to an entire day of yet another animal harassing him or running away for some reason or other; well, the Saiyan had an idea of why they wouldn't like him...not that he could ever say it out loud, but everyone in the universe seemed to recognize a "monkey" when they saw one...could an animal do the same? He pushed the idea aside as he spat out a string of hairs, "Oh yes, you do, don't even try to deny it."

"Fou!"

Before Trunks could even respond to yet another insult, the Doctor watched from the side, raising a brow as the pair went back and forth before completely interrupting, "...can you understand what Fou's saying?"

The Saiyan rolled his eyes as the animal hissed at him again, choosing to not even dignify that one with a response; he turned to the Director, glancing down at his ID tag, loosely hung around his neck, Romani...Archaman...yep, same guy as before. He stayed quiet for a moment, trying to consider his words before turning his wrist, with Fou following suit against its will, "It's in his tone."

Mash stuttered a moment, staring between Fou and the new arrival, her mind focused on one word...She wanted to know, no, she HAD to know. Her face scrunched up like she wanted to say something before forcing it through layer after layer of angst, pointing a finger at the tiny beast, "wait, Senpai...Fou's a boy?"

A moment passed as the Saiyan looked over the fluffy animal, tilting his hand around as though he were sizing it up, sniffing at the air like a predator tracking prey before with the most casual shrug, lifting the angry entity overhead, "I don't know, let me chec-PFFFT-"

Only to get a kick straight to the chin as his sharpened canines clamped down on his tongue, the force knocking the hybrid's head back as a ferocious voice rang out for the heavens to hear, "Fou!"

Trunks stood there a moment, reeling in the fact that an animal somehow just made an idiot of him. He slowly lowered his head, opening and closing his jaw as a distinctive copper taste overwhelmed his senses before looking back at the Chaldean, the veins on his forehead lightly pulsing from a quiet rage, "...Fou says he's a guy."

Shaking her head in silent disapproval, Mash approached, plucking Fou out of the hybrid's grasp as the creature instinctively scrambled up her shoulder, wrapping itself around her neck as he glared at the Saiyan ahead with all the anger capable of a living stuffed animal, with her mumbling, "You still shouldn't manhandle him, Senpai, you hurt his feelings."

Another tick appeared on Trunks' forehead, the little rodent had been nothing but hostile to him since the start, and somehow, he was the bad guy in all of this; he dismissed the thought, knowing that there was no arguing over this, and the fighter wasn't about to get into a shouting match about morals over a...rat... squirrel...whatever that thing is. The halfling crossed his arms in a light huff, looking away, "I'm sure he's fi-woah!"

Trunks practically jumped out of his skin as his stare immediately met two giant blue orbs right in his face; taking a step back, he soon realized someone...a woman had practically been on top of him the entire time, and he hadn't even noticed. Taking in her appearance, the warrior felt utterly confused; he came from a world of martial arts, where deformities and mutations could become a keen difference between life and death, where one wouldn't bat an eye at a three-eyed fighter or even a green Namekian so long as they showed what they were made of, calling it excentric didn't do the term justice...sure, the Saiyan wasn't one to wear a gi, but Gohan still wore his dad's out of respect, it had a meaning to it despite how dated the outfit looked... but this...this felt like a costume.

She wore a strange set of azure arm and leg covers, coated in a fine layer of golden silk, gently pulled against a set of immaculately pale skin, so delicate it looked as though they had never even seen the sun, denied its ethereal light. The woman wore a magenta tunic emblazoned with decorative jewels and garments atop a shimmering red skirt as a cape billowed in an artificial breeze. But what truly caught the Saiyan's attention was her deep blue eyes, staring at him with a familiar excited glee he'd only seen his mom get whenever she discovered something new, picking it apart in her head before going to work on something or other. She gracefully giggled, running a gloved hand through her flowing brown locks, speaking with a maternal yet distant tone as though she were always just out of reach, "So you're our mysterious guest...stunned into silence?...a given for a boy your age, but I believe introductions are in order~"

She took a step back, her ornate brown heels clicking against the tiled floor as she placed a hand over her heart, giving a gentle bow, with strands of silken hair falling ever so gently with the motion, "In life, I was known as the famed Leonardo Da Vinci, do not let this beautiful appearance fool you, for I am merely an inventor recreating my legacies for Chaldea, but you must know of them already~" she raised her head in a rare show of pride, ever the actor when wishing to put on a show, soon reaching out an open palm, "And you are?~"

The Saiyan's eye twitched as he tried to ignore the awkward blush growing on his face; sure, he had practically no experience talking to...well...any women besides his mom and the occasional other survivors the teen had met, but the hybrid wasn't going to deny that the inventor in front of him was downright gorgeous...albeit in an eccentric kind of way, but he was an adult that could handle his own issues, holding down his embarrassment through pride alone, an inherited trait from his father, not willing to make a fool of himself anymore today.

He took a calming breath, regaining his usual indifference; the warrior reached out, clasping her tiny hand in a gentle handshake, always having to hold back around normal people, with the fear that he might hurt someone without even meaning to, yet still having to interact regardless. The halfling awkwardly rubbed the back of his head as he spoke, "Trunks...sorry but-" he watched as the woman quirked a brow in perplexion before continuing with a complete deadpan, "never heard of you."

...

...

"eh?"

Da Vinci faltered at that, her smile dispersing into her mouth just hanging open for the first time in recent memory, genuinely uncertain of what to say. She stared at him for a few moments, checking to see if there was any tells of a lie or that this was some kind of joke, but-

Da Vinci dropped, head facing the ground as her arm loosely let go, just staring down as though a sense of both dread and complete embarrassment took over the Caster as she mumbled, "He doesn't know..."

As the hybrid tried to look at anything but there, suddenly, the force returned to his hand before he could even let it fall to his side, with the inventor holding it in a vice-grip, her eyes gleaming with ambition as she stared into his very soul, with the Italian's form morphing within his mind, into a looming shadow overhead as though her true colors threatened to crush the swordsman beneath the weight of her words, "I'll show you."

As soon as the phrase left the inventor's mouth, she turned on her heels, marching out of the room and toward an exit door, dragging the hybrid on his heels as he looked at Mash for help, only getting a look of utter pity from the girl. He turned back, staring down at the woman's hand clenched around his wrist, knowing that breaking free was always an option, but...that look in her eye...something told him there wasn't a choice, the scene reminding him all too much of whenever his mom got into one of those moods, demanding all attention on her work or suffer the consequences...the halfling heard their fleeting voices behind him as his boots slid over smooth tile.

Mash turned to the new Director as he stood there, his face entirely shadowed by his falling curly locks, hands clenched together. She raised a brow at the sight, wondering if something was wrong with the man, "Doctor, should we...stop her?...don't we need to debrief?"

Like a scene from a horror film, Romani turned, the artificial lights looming overhead gently illuminating a forced smile and a set of closed eyes; he slowly reached out, placing a hand over the girl's armored shoulder, his forehead twitching as though he was angry at something, "There's no stopping her when she gets like that...it can wait... but, first-" his eyes shot open, revealing a glowing pair of green orbs, burning with an intensity that made the Servant shrivel, "we're going to have a nice, long chat about your choice of clothing, Mashed Potato...got it?"

His shadow grew, drowning out the poor Chaldean within its ferocious confines, getting punished for something that wasn't even her fault...just like her Master getting dragged off into the unknown depths of Chaldea. There was no escape, only utter defeat in the face of a man who 'raised her better than this.'

...

Moments later

Trunks found himself gazing around with an odd sense of familiarity running through his person, trailing behind the inventor as she dragged him through an endless array of hallways. There was something nostalgic about the almost barren landscape around him, with tunnels of lightly painted metal interspersed with the occasional company logo between identical sliding doorways, each marked by a code of intermingled letters and numbers.

The biggest difference? How pristine it was...the hybrid had grown up in a world utterly ravaged by war, famine, and total devastation; a clean home just wasn't possible, even for a family as formerly wealthy as his. Their lives became a gamble, where every loss was practically impossible to recover; when a section of their roof collapsed, they didn't rebuild, nor did they try to improve what had been lost...no; they blocked that section of the headquarters off and never went in there again; one could say the same for their planet as a whole, every sector the Androids decided to make an appearance in was abandoned without a second thought...it made having a sense of place hard for the warrior, knowing it could all vanish in an instant.

As the Saiyan stayed in the clouds, he failed to notice the Servant watching him from the corner of her eye, as though she were studying an interesting subject, gleaning more information by the second before she decided to speak her mind in the ever-excited, sing-song tone the woman used, "You know, what I always hear from newcomers?-" As the boy turned, she continued, "How boring this place looks like there's nothing or no one for miles and miles...just you, the ice, and whatever ideas come to mind; how about you?"

Trunks nodded along, letting the Italian drag him along on her quest to show off some gadget or other, not that he had much of a clue what was going on at this point, just choosing to follow orders...was she his superior?...did ranks exist in this place?...the warrior pushed the thought away, figuring there was no point in picking fights on his first day here, instead, choosing to respond honestly, "I'm pretty used to it; I grew up in a lab a lot like this place, actually."

The Caster's head turned just a bit more at the word like it sent a signal directing her to pay more attention, taking sharp turns through random intersections as though it were nothing more than muscle memory to find her destination. "Here I was thinking you made that machine all by yourself.~"

With a slight smile, he shook his head in denial, ignoring the mild pain in his heart; the swordsman thought back to the family he had waiting for him back in the future; it would have been less than thirty minutes for her and years for him...and at this rate...maybe more. "No, I just know how to use the thing and keep it working; my mom's the one that made it from scratch; I'm just the sucker that gets pulled into her projects."

She shook her head in dismissal, her gaze narrowing a bit as though there was something sad about what he had said. The scholar turned back ahead, knowing their destination was nearly at hand. "Whether one makes something or simply uses it, learning rests at the center, don't be so quick to dismiss yourself over such a trivial thing."

The fighter grumbled at that, looking away in a slight huff, not that anyone would understand what it was like having the smartest person in the world as your parent; everything the hybrid did felt lackluster compared to what the great Bulma did...don't get Trunks wrong, he loved his mom more than anyone else in the world by miles, but he couldn't help but feel like living up to her legacy was impossible...what could he make that she hadn't already thought of?... If Saiyans were even capable of doing anything but fighting, not that the time traveler did much to go against that stereotype.

At least Gohan wanted more for himself; being a scholar was a dream the man never got to achieve, having to fight one war after another before the inevitable happened. The memory drove waves of guilt through the swordsman's heart; he swore to keep living for his mentor's sake; how exactly do you live when you have no clue what you want? It hardly crossed his mind at this point, but...Trunks just never thought of anything beyond the Androids... maybe it came from growing up in a world without civilization, or maybe the boy just hated them that much...He rolled his eyes, choosing not to respond at all.

The Servant came to an abrupt stop at one of the many identical doors, her hand finally letting go of the warrior's wrist as it flickered toward a set of buttons strewn along the wall, instinctively typing in a code as she glanced toward the teen with a strange smirk, as if she was somehow reading his thoughts, "Humor me."

*Swoosh

With an almost inaudible hiss, the doors slid apart, revealing a strange sight that broke the Saiyan's train of thought entirely, like a miniature, classical world within the realm of modernity. He could only watch as the woman took a step forward, her shoes audibly thumping against a hardwood floor, with her waving a hand for him to follow.

Saiyans are many things; some might call them humans with far more extra steps, while others would consider them monsters, unlike anything the universe had ever seen. There were similarities and utter contrasts, their honed senses having a far more animalistic twinge than their Earthling counterparts, but they were so warlike few would focus on factors besides who kill and what to eat, but the minority that did, those few with pure hearts that learned to love the world for what it was? To them, life was an aurora of experiences, taken in by processes few could even hope to describe.

Trunks took it all in at once, the smell of old books stowed away on some far-flung shelf or other, intermingled with the hints of both metal components and a strange energy, permeating around the place as though it were keeping it whole. As the Servant shifted to the side, he simply stood there, looking about with utter fascination, studying a dimly glowing lamplight, sat atop an old oaken desk, strewn about with various documents, gadgets, and even a fallen cloth that likely sat atop its surface at one time or another.

As the hybrid turned, an array of colorful light burst through panes of colored glass, driving a hum of fascination from the teen as he approached, passing by what he could only guess was an ancient telescope or other, its bulky components likely weighing less than a hundred pounds, a stark contrast to its modern counterparts which could span the width of a building. He gently raised a hand, touching the glass with a finger as he squinted, trying to peer through to the void beyond without seeing a thing, his curiosity driving the warrior to ask, "I thought we were underground...artificial sunlight?"

She chuckled at that, pulling a chair out against the floor as it audibly clunked against the material, pushing a hand against her cape as the Caster gracefully took a seat, knowing full well the implications of sitting on your cloak...and the embarrassment of faceplanting in front of someone that isn't the Doctor. "Nothing of the sort; I simply enjoy the natural light of my time, and so there it is; would you mind grabbing something for me?"

Turning on his heels, the Saiyan saw the tinkerer pointing a gloved finger at one of the looming shelves, somehow devoid of all dust entirely, yet smelling of an age the teen couldn't quite describe, like they were somehow old and new at the exact same time. He glanced upward, spotting a wooden crate beside a globe of the Earth. With a shrug, he crossed the room, dodging between various odds and ends the woman seemed to have made or collected, each made of various strands of cloth, wood, and even a few copper trinkets here and there.

Trunks paused at the foot of the looming shelves as they stood overhead, soon realizing that the scientist hadn't even offered him a ladder...and the way she sat at the table, hands folded atop one another...was this an interview?... Could...Could he fail? With a grumble, the halfling glanced over his shoulder, meeting her studious gaze as the Servant quite literally had a notebook sitting to the side and a...is that a quill? He sighed, knowing exactly what this was about, most humans can't fly, and well...he could...might as well get this over with.

The Saiyan took a calming breath, gently funneling ki around his form as an artificial breeze billowed off of him in droves, his purple hairs flowing alongside as he slowly levitated, approaching the sparsely lit ceiling in moments. He started to reach out, ignoring the rapid writing going on behind him as his hands clenched along the edges, but he soon came to a pause...glancing at the globe...what was he looking at?

Trunks blinked...again...and again, trying to make sense of something that didn't add up...it was a simple globe...with varying levels of coloring alongside miniature mountain ranges, plastered in layered paper or something along those lines, but...it was wrong...why was everything so...disconnected?...there wasn't an ocean or...any of this on his map, the boy wasn't stupid, this wasn't Earth, it couldn't be...He sputtered, not knowing what it was, but shook the thought away, figuring it was some strange design or other...maybe he'll ask later, when things...made more sense, soon dropping to the floor with an audible tap from his yellow boots.

With a shrug, the teen slowly marched around the table, placing the box atop it with an audible thud, taking one last look around the strange room, it felt utterly out of time...just like him, with a sort of rustic atmosphere that he never could have dreamed of experiencing, but the sheer way it was organized, with papers made of linen scattered everywhere, with instruments their world likely moved far away from, yet appearing pristine... a complete contrast to a modern lab, often filled with more mechanical know-how than the average person could even fathom, yet at the same time he saw a projected terminal, similar to the ones he had seen in whatever place he landed in attached to one of the tiled walls, showing some hub of information or other...this place was strange.

Trunks slowly raised the chair with a single hand, pulling the clunky furniture piece back before thudding onto it, with the piece's legs audibly creaking in response. The Caster sitting a mere few feet ahead gave him a slight nod before speaking with that relentless energy in her tone, "Normally, we would leave the vetting to security, but...well, by now, you probably know we don't have a security force anymore, so it's up to me, we're a professional organization, so we have to follow at least some of the established processes."

She nodded toward the box sitting beside the Saiyan, her tone becoming both severe and authoritative in the blink of an eye, as though a switch had flipped within the Servant's head. "I've never been one to sit still, so if you feel like tinkering with one of my little toys while we're talking, feel free~."

Trunks eyed her a moment but soon, driven by an innate curiosity, leaned over, seeing...birds? They were various sizes and shapes, each made of a different array of colorful metals, some silver, others copper, each with a metallic beak and gleaming gems for eyes...but one seemed to catch his. He tilted the box, grabbing one, turning what he could only guess was a parrot the size of his fist, spotting an array of both gears, springs, and the occasional thin black band connecting various components to one another in a generous bronze overtone, with a hum before looking at the inventor, "Did you make this out of clock parts?"

She puffed out her chest in mock pride, tapping a few fingers along her note sheets in a rhythmic motion, "It's a little habit of mine; I've never been one to just sit still, even when I'm working on something else, having a... pet project-" he ignored the sly smirk at her own awful pun before the inventor continued, "well...it's just fun for me."

The Saiyan continued to examine the device, feeling a shifting weight within its center; his eyes narrowed...this wasn't just a model, were there circuits in this thing? As he traced a finger along the metallic bits, he spoke, "No, I get it...when I was a kid, I liked to take our radio apart and put it back together... see if it still worked." He left out the fact that they did that to see if anyone was still out there besides the regular broadcasters...only hearing about Android attacks takes a toll on you after a while.

The Caster smiled a bit more, unaware of the implications of what the boy had just said; instead, she reached out, grabbing her quill, gracefully dabbing it into a nearby pot of ink, inwardly smirking at the fact that some poor intern would have to sort through each hand made copy someday, like a personal memento given by a beauty like herself. She pulled her loose assortment of papers a bit closer, starting to scribble along non-existent lines, focusing on the swordsman all the while, "Normally, we'd ask for an ID, proof of identification, blah blah, but...if you're from another time period, then you legally don't exist anyways, so we'll just skip through all that and get to the good stuff~" She hummed, crossing an X through her sheet before saying, "First name...Trunks...last name...not available."

She clicked her tongue in absent-minded thought, humming some old melodic tune with an angelic elegance before a spark flickered into her glowing blue orbs, shimmering as though she had waited to ask this question since the moment they met, "On our way here, you mentioned that your mother had invented the machine you used to arrive in Chaldea, would you elaborate on who she is?"

Trunks bristled for a secondbut soon composed himself; the idea of giving any personal information away had crossed his mind in the wrong way; the hybrid was always untrusting of unfamiliar faces. But there wasn't much choice, and he wasn't a kid anymore; there had to be some give and take if he wanted to make this work, although he'd definitely keep some things under lock and key. His gaze drifted upward as he met her stare, "My mom is Doctor Bulma, the current CEO of-" he nodded downward toward the logo emblazoned along his jacket sleeve, "Capsule Corp."

His hands trailed along the metallic contraption; if there was a power switch, it would be...under the left wing, upper...there it is. He flicked it, feeling the faintest of sputters from within the device before it went silent, raising a brow yet refocusing on the inventor as she spoke, in a sing-song, "Rich boy~" ignoring her taking all too much pleasure in how easy it was to embarrass the Saiyan before she straightened up, asking "And what does it do exactly?"

Leaning back in his chair, the Saiyan lightly bobbed back and forth, lost in his thoughts; what was this some kind of business pitch? His mom had always told him it might happen someday, so he had to be ready...eugh...the mere thought of having to present to a crowd of people in suits sounded awful to the teen. Trunks idly tapped along the device's exterior before settling on what had to be an access panel, "Before the collapse, we had our hands in pretty much anything you could imagine-" raising a finger with each listed item, "pharmaceuticals, household appliances, transportation, but what we really focused on was Capsule technology."

Deciding to waste no time, the Saiyan idly reached into his jacket, pulling out a distinctive metal case emblazoned with the company logo as it gently clicked open, his fingers gently clasping around one of the dozens of color-coded, miniature cylinders. Trunks popped one with a thumb; a small toolbox burst into existence in a plume of smoke, its edges lightly rusted after years of use; placing his open case in front of the Servant, the Saiyan opened his collection of tools with a creak, digging around for something, "These things weigh less than a gram, but you could store an entire house in one if you felt like it."

Dropping all formality, the inventor plucked one from its container, twirling the small device around in her fingers, almost immediately coming to understand the concept and application, her focus soon shifting toward the teen as he plucked open a panel on her little test. It was always a fascinating thing to watch others work, although none were even close to comparing to the great Da Vinci; she had always found the methods of approach different in each person; some would ignore a problem entirely, pushing it onto someone else if it wasn't necessary, while others dove headfirst into it for the sake of it. "So, what little gadget do you have waiting for me in this one?"

Trunks inwardly grimaced as he peeked into the dark confines of the artificial bird, the insides being a convoluted mess of gears and...oh, there's your problem, little guy, without looking the teen grabbed a pair of tweezers, reaching in to pluck out a frayed wire from its connector, burned to a crisp...okay, too much power going through the thing, he hummed, pulling a set of jumbled cord from his container, some of the components made no sense to the hybrid, but there was always a basic system to understanding electrical wiring...the thing was just loose...replace it with a fresh line...wait for it to click. He paused, realizing the Caster had asked him a question; taking a quick glance, the Saiyan snorted, "mini fridge-" he went back to work, trying to pluck out what had to be the power supply, mumbling, "feel free if you want a Hetap...oh right...it's a soft drink."

She sat there, holding the small capsule overhead before coming to a standstill as if the genius was processing something, "you... you carry an entire fridge with you?-" she stopped, giving the Saiyan an appraising look before nodding. "Nevermind, I can see why."

With a slight tug, a tiny green jewel popped out of the chamber and into the teen's waiting hand; he raised it pinched between two fingers; was that an emerald? Why would-...wait...Trunks expanded his senses, feeling a foreign yet very faint energy radiating off the tiny rock...so it was a power supply...it glowed and faded every few seconds, low on power...maybe? He shrugged, "I get hungry." She would have no idea the true weight of those words. "...wait, what's that supposed to mean?"

She didn't respond, driving the halfling to roll his eyes, and with the slightest burst of ki into his hand, the rock glowed bright, the sight bringing a little smirk of pride onto the hybrid's face. Slowly but surely, he pinched the gem once again, sliding it into some strange contraption that held it in place, siphoning energy with an array of prongs. Closing the hatch, the Saiyan flicked the switch, feeling the internal gears winding to life; he gently set the artificial animal atop the table, watching it with curious eyes.

Its winges slightly opened, revealing a sliding array of metallic disks making up an assortment of fake feathers as it made a clanking sound with each step taken atop the wooden surface. Trunks didn't think much of it, just a mechanical contraption similar to a wind-up toy, built to move in a particular pattern, not that he was expecting much; the thing was way too heavy to-

*SWOOSH

Without so much as a warning cry, the winged beast took off from the table, defying gravity, it soared overhead, taking a lap over the devices strewn about the room, perching itself atop the shelf from which it came, its beak ruffling through its fake feathers. He just stared at the creature in a sort of wonder; it acted so real...shaking, tapping its feet against the edge, looking and even blinking in his direction with a sliding piece of fabric going over its eyes...the sight forced the warrior to instinctively clench a fist... almost alive...just like the Androi-

"oooh"

*Clap-Clap

The Caster giving him a standing ovation drove the Saiyan back into reality as she nodded in silent approval; he blinked for a second, letting the ringing in his ears settle down. Da Vinci tapped her quill along the ridge of the paper, soon raising it before coming down again, "three minutes and eight seconds exactly, new record~."

Knowing he was confused before the teen could even mouth the words, she elaborated, "As the chief engineer, I like to play a little game with the newbies. Usually, they have to take apart all of them and make me a working one, but...you sort of cheated, not like it matters all that much," she shrugged, grabbing her sheets once again, "being prepared is just one step of the process, but enough about that, next question...blah blah blah...boring...oh!...what were you doing in the past? And what did you mean by the term, 'the collapse?'"

...

...

Not getting a response, the engineer looked away from her sheet, expecting to see the same layers of confusion or embarrassment constantly flickering across the teen's facade of bravado, but...he wasn't looking at her; rather, the ground, his face shadowed by his falling purple locks.

The atmosphere seemed to shift around him in a split second, going from casual to... an immense gravity...as though something had completely transformed within his framework, going from just a superpowered teenager to...something else entirely. Trunks took a slow breath, his voice escaping without even a hint of emotion, forgetting all the events of today as his mind focused on the sole event that defined his entire existence, "...May 12th, 767."

For the first time in the conversation, the Caster felt perplexed, the Director had mentioned his strange dating system in a brief call before she had vanished, but it wasn't that...she tried to raise a hand to intervene, to ask the swordsman to explain, but he cut her off. The Saiyan's hands clenched so hard his knuckles audibly popped, "Nine miles off the coast of South City, on a sparsely inhabited island at ten in the morning." His head slowly rose, revealing a hardened pair of narrow blue eyes, speaking with a gravity few could fathom, "it's the day the world ended, but I guess you know that feeling too, huh?"

She shifted in her seat, eyes narrowing as though they had finally gone into the meat of the conversation, with almost all semblance of excentricity pushed aside for the sake of their mission. "I suppose, but the Director had mentioned you bringing up a few strange dates; you know it's 2015, right?"

Giving a slow nod, Trunks ran a hand over his face, pinching between his eyes to try and subvert the growing weariness within his person, soon cupping his chin, leaning onto his elbow as he spoke against the creak of the desk, "If I'm being honest, I'm just as confused as you are, for all I know, this could be a distant past or a future way ahead of mine, time gets...mucky the further you go from home, that and-" tapping a foot along the floor, he looked down, "My mom homeschooled me in what was left of our company headquarters, with pretty much everything gone, history sort of faded away, I only know about the things she lived through, nothing much before then."

With a gentle hop and a fluttering of its wings, the metallic bird slowly drifted from its perch and onto the Caster's shoulder, with her absent-mindedly reaching up to scratch its nonexistent skin. "Something you'll come to learn working with Servants, quite a few are a prideful bunch-" she fluttered a hand before her heart in a show of elegance, "I dabble here and there, but, to be a Heroic Spirit, one must have been of historical significance...even in these times, my name is almost renowned in each household as the greatest inventor, although I wasn't quite the beauty I am now... yet, you genuinely have no idea who I am...it's curious."

Shaking the thought, and a small piece of her pride, away, the interviewer pulled her jar of ink closer, dabbing her quill within its inky confines, "But enough about pretty little me, now, when you say the world ended, do you mean on par with what happened outside of Chaldea?"

Trunks shook his head in denial, muttering, "not really," he sighed; this topic was never easy to talk about in any regard; this was his entire life, dragged into a living hell of desolation and isolation. "From what Mash told me...it all sort of happened in an instant for you all, but for us...well, it started the same, then it was a slow crawl until everything just stopped, the food chains, supply lines...society itself just...fell apart, all because of one man."

The Saiyan slowly put his hands atop the desk, exerting so much pressure the reinforced wood began to buckle and crack beneath him as he stared at the Servant, "Dr. Gero, a former member of the Red Ribbon Army, a... a terrorist movement that wanted to take control of the planet, and after their defeat, he went insane...we only found out after the fact but-"

Trying to take a calming breath, the hybrid only found himself getting angrier by the moment, an inherited trait he always struggled to get a hold over, but he had to try. "He was kidnapping and experimenting on orphan children in his underground lab, beneath the Northern Mountains... turning them into...-" he gritted his teeth, briefly exposing his sharpened canines at the mere mention of the word "Androids."

Reaching forward, the hybrid dug through his toolkit, pulling out a cracked tablet usually used for helping with repairs, tapping along the screen as it blipped online, "They were strong...stronger than anyone on the planet, and all it took was two of them to go rogue, they killed him and decided that the world needed to burn-" he turned the screen, showing a fuzzed image of a set of twins, a young man and woman with the same piercing blue eyes, with circuitry exposed beneath the surface, a brother with black hair and his blonde sister, both wearing clothing coated in the symbol of the Red Ribbon Army. "Their names were Lapis and Lazuli, but now they're just...Androids 17 and 18...-" his gaze hardened, "they took out the Earth's defenders on that first day, and now...it's 788, and over ninety-five percent of the human population is dead."

Leaning back in her chair, the Italian seemingly pulled a mug of coffee out of nowhere, expertly not spilling a drop as she drank the dark beverage, nodding in silent thought with her eyes closed for a moment. She exhaled, blue eyes reopening, "So you decided to go back in time and prevent it from happening..." speaking as though she had already deduced practically every implication, with the Saiyan's ears quirking at the mumble of the term, Counter Force...whatever that was. Her gaze settled, her tone becoming blunt, "But that isn't how time travel works; you ended up splitting your timeline."

Trunks wasn't stupid; there was a fine line between telling the complete truth about what he is and what actually happened and just enough to get by...she was a lot smarter than the teen had given credit for, practically picking apart his story and its narrative without even needing to hear all of it...apparently, it was a good thing he didn't lie, not that the hybrid was ever any good at doing that. Giving a nod, he spoke, "We had no way of knowing; it was either test it, or...sit there and wait for the inevitable...I went back, hoping it would change the future, even if it erased us; anything sounded better than living another day like that, but..." he sighed, "I just ended up making a timeline where things are better, with mine still being the same."

She nodded, taking another sip of her drink of the gods, one of the few luxuries the inventor would never deny loving about the modern day, "Do you regret it at all?"

Within a second, Trunks shook his head in denial, leaning onto the table as the strain over his features lightened just a bit, thinking back to the world where everything seemed bright after Cell was gone...maybe he'd visit again someday?... It sounded tempting...too tempting. "Not one bit, you can condemn what I did all you want, but I'll never regret making a world where my dad and all the other people of Earth are still alive, where there's a chance for them to keep going, for the first time in a long while, they gave me hope that I could do the same for my time."

The halfling slowly adjusted himself in his seat, ignoring the creaking wood beneath him, meeting the inventor's curious stare as his mind settled on its course. "I won't sugarcoat this; we met because of an accident, a complete fluke, but I need to get back to my Earth so that I can kill the Androids myself-" his blue eyes shimmered in sheer determination, "I'm willing to do whatever it takes, and when it's done, you'll never see me again."

With practiced ease, the Italian swatted away her bird's attempt at stealing her writing tool with a swat of her hand, giving the swordsman a subtle nod, "From what we've gathered so far, we'll have to erase seven other Singularities, much like the one you just experienced, so I'll cut to the chase, even if it's technically off the books-" taking a slow sip of her beloved beverage, she continued "The new Director is willing to make you a temporary member of staff, you'll have the same access as any other Master candidate alongside whatever resources we can spare for you to work on getting home."

Flicking a hand through her flowing brown locks as sparkles rained down around the Caster, she fluttered her eyelashes, "You'll also have access to your very own personal Da Vinci to help with that, hint hint~" dropping the act in a second, she leaned back, ignoring the fluttering cries of her metallic bird as it hobbled to stay in place atop her shoulder, "In exchange, you work to restore our timeline, and in the event that you finish your repairs before then-"

Trunks raised a hand, cutting the Servant off midsentence as he shook his head, "You don't have to worry about that-" seeing her pause, the teen pushed ahead, "I'm not just going to leave you all to face this by yourselves, you have my word that I'll stick around until everything is back where it should be."

Her eyes widened just a bit before softening, a slight smile growing atop the Servant's perfect features, "I think I get why the former Director took a shine to you...even if she didn't want to admit it, well then-" she raised a gloved hand toward the hybrid, "On behalf of those who can't be with us anymore, welcome to Chaldea, we'll be counting on you, Master." Stifling a grimace at the word, Trunks gently clasped the Servant's hand in his own, trying to find the words to respond before- "You're bleeding."

Glancing down, the Saiyan noticed a dripping pool of blood falling from his sleeve onto the table below, and before he could even react, the Caster tapped a finger through the torn fabric, the sensation causing him to wince as the burning sensation roared into his mind again, despite the pain, he forced a chuckle, rubbing a finger along his chin, "Oh, I forgot that happened, Saber managed to knick me during our fight, it's nothing to worry about."

Shaking her head in silent disapproval, the Servant let go, walking past the hybrid as she paced across the room, dodging and weaving between the various instruments adorning it, muttering, "You only notice how dumb men can be when you stop being one." The statement made the swordsman tilt his head in utter perplexion; what was that supposed to mean? And as the tinkerer dug through a shelf, throwing random debris to the wayside, she ordered, "Take the jacket off."

Trunks sputtered for a second but decided to comply, his face contorting in discomfort as his bad arm slid out of the sleeve, revealing a toned limb stained in dry blood as more poured from the slash along his upper arm. Most wounds tended to close on their own within minutes, a Saiyan could recover from a gash like that in practically no time, but it was only just starting to scab over...weird. As the hybrid adjusted, the inventor trudged across the room in a mock fit of anger, setting a red container down atop the desk with a white cross strewn on its surface.

Digging through the box, she pulled out the standard kit the halfling's mom used whenever he came home bloodied from one of his fights with the androids; nothing fancy, just what he could only guess was disinfectant...not that he could get human illnesses anyways and a thread with a needle. She loomed overhead, her blue eyes shining down on him, "You're lucky the UN mandated we keep this stuff in every room; otherwise, you'd have to hear the Doctor laying into Mash over that cute little outfit of hers-" completely going on a tangent the Caster looked to the sky as though she suffered the worst insult imaginable, "Get this, he said that I was going to give her funny looks over it, he just lacks the vision that beautiful girls like us have every right to wear whatever we want, you know?"

Not understanding the question or the implication, Trunks awkwardly sat there, not knowing what to say; was there something to think about what she was wearing?... Nothing came to mind unless she was talking about-he raised a brow, "I mean...it's not very good armor if you're exposed like that; how is it meant to help you in a fight if half your skin is showing?"

The Servant went quiet for a moment, just placing a hand on the boy's shoulder, clenching and letting go; he looked up, seeing what could only be described as a look of utter pity from the tinkerer, as she spoke, "so much wasted potential...you poor thing."...What?

Wanting out of this conversation as soon as humanly possible, the Saiyan grabbed the needle and thread, quietly funneling his ki into the blade as he handed it to the Servant, awkwardly mumbling, "...can you just do my stitches already."

She dejectedly complied, dumping the antibacterial liquid on the gash to which the swordsman gave no reaction, piercing the thread through the loop on her miniature tool before leaning in, using the hybrid's shoulder for leverage, the tip of her blade on the verge of going to work, briefly looking up, "That's really all you have to say on it?"

A quirk of irritation formed on the boy's forehead; not understanding what the issue was at all, he silently grit his teeth before looking at her through narrow blue eyes, "There's nothing else to say; it's bad armor."

Da Vinci clicked her tongue in disapproval, slowly but surely binding the wound together, not getting so much as a wince out of the fighter, a sad look on her face all the while as she sutured the hybrid's arm, "You look like that, and you're this clueless...it's heartbreaking."

Trunks stopped responding, ignoring the despondent worker until she was finished a few moments later, watching her listlessly stare off into space as though some deep hope of hers had been broken at that very moment. With a shrug, the Saiyan slowly rose from his chair, gathering his scattered belongings before reaching out toward his-

"leave your jacket."

The Chaldean turned on her heels, all previous energy seemingly coming back to the scientist at once as her smile returned, "As a welcoming gift, I'll fix it up for you; come back in the morning for it." A strange glint appeared in the Servant's eyes, "I have so much to teach you~."

Getting a creepy vibe from the eccentric inventor, he gave an awkward nod, spinning around and walking toward the door, choosing not to respond as she told him to look for a specific room number, M-48...whatever that meant. And with the click of a button, the warrior was free from his first-ever interview, never wanting to do that or be near that weirdo ever again.

...

A bit later

Trunks lazily walked through the winding halls of what would be his de facto base of operations for the foreseeable future, with identical passageways adorned with the same doorways, beyond post-modern and into the realm of insanity. If it wasn't for the occasional overhead sign pointing him in the right direction, the time traveler would have gotten lost within the first minute of being here; there were practically no energy signatures to trace, with all of the twenty-something people strewn throughout a complex the size of a city, leaving him wandering in the synthetic glow of the luminous bulbs buzzing overhead, not that he minded.

The Saiyan had always liked being by himself; it just made things easier, being able to think and act on his own terms; today had been more excitement than he had bargained for by a mile, with new experiences and fighting styles than he ever could have imagined. He idly tapped a finger by his side as he counted down the ever-increasing numbers passing to his sides, M-44...M-45...he lazily continued his stride, wondering just how massive this place really was.

More than half of Chaldea was closed off because of the attack, and it still felt like it went on forever in every direction, with who knows how many floors going up or down throughout the landscape; then again, it was meant to house hundreds of people, not a skeleton crew, just like Capsule Corp. Trunks had heard it more than enough times to remember his mom's stories on how their labs were always full of workers and interns, trying to get in on their family's success, pretty much a lifetime ago. Now, their headquarters was just a shelter amidst a sea of rubble in what used to be West City...maybe someday they could bring it all back, but the Androids had to go first; otherwise, history would just repeat itself over and over.

With an audible hiss of his tongue, the hybrid looked up, mouthing his designated room number as it loomed just atop a doorframe, much like any other. He looked beside the looming entrance, seeing a standard electronic screen that soon dispersed into a reflective camera, showing him and the surrounding hallway with a spiraling processing icon, scanning his face for a brief moment before the door slid open with an audible hiss; where they got a facial recognition of him, the Saiyan did not know, or like whatsoever...whatever; he soon disregarded it, too tired to care at this point.

Trunks ignored his surroundings, the world seeming to fall apart into nothing as his eyes focused on the target of his affections, a bed, pure white and utterly immaculate, its pillows appearing as a sea of pure fluff before his weary presence, long used to sleeping on a hard floor or even in the wilderness, kept company only by the decaying planet around him, but that didn't matter in this moment.

The fighter strolled through, the door sliding shut behind him, passing by a list of things he simply didn't care to acknowledge; not even bothering to kick off his boots, the halfling took a small leap, letting his momentum carry him forward as he planked midair, slamming onto to the soft material with a silent poof, immediately passing into the world of slumber.

Hours went by in a blur, with neither a sun nor a moon above to determine the time, where night and day simply fell into a category of whenever one was tired enough to sleep at all, a fact of life the hybrid had adjusted to a long time ago, having to spend weeks at a time buried under several feet of rubble whenever the Androids decided to make his town their target practice for a few weeks before getting bored, but for once, he slept soundly, mouth hung open as he snored into a quiet roo-

*poke-poke

*nude-nudge

The time traveler tried to ignore the onset of sensations overwhelming his blissful rest, not wanting to deal with anything in particular for at least a few more hours, his mind beginning to shut down once again before the prodding continued, with him hearing a distinctive battle cry ring out.

"F-"

*SCHWING

Guided by years of fighting instinct, his hand shot out at untold speeds, blocking a pawed strike with a single finger, only for the assault to speed up again and again, each blow met tit for tat until, with a grunt of annoyance, the fighter lunged, scooping up his assailant in a loose hold, raising them overhead as he felt the distinctive rub of soft fur on his skin. His eyes slowly opened to the world, wincing against the harsh lights above, his stare meeting a pair of familiar, beady blue orbs. "Ugh, you again?"

"Kyu Fou!"

Squinting at the enraged beast within his hold, the Saiyan audibly groaned as he sat upright, propped up against the wall as; he held the creature at bay in the air, "You wha-" hearing more barks of disgust from the animal, he took a slow breath, "got locked in?... Then why'd you follow me in the first place?"

Not caring for a response, the hybrid lazily threw Fou in an underhand onto the blankets below, slowly turning as his boots hit the floor, rubbing the exhaustion away from his eyes; he was always a light sleeper and knew better than anyone that he was up for good, so might as well start the "day," and with a grunt Trunks glanced at his watch, tapping along the screen as he tried to see through his blurred vision, five in the morning, eh, close enough to his normal routine.

He stood as Fou charged, pouncing in his direction, only to impact into a fluffed pillow as the halfling stretched, popping his back as he surveyed his surroundings. The room wasn't anything special, the same polished tile as the hallway, the same material composing the walls and ceiling intermingled with varying degrees of grey and white paint.

Seeing a few side doors, the time traveler approached one, with its sensors automatically detecting his presence, sliding open with the same hiss as before, revealing a small space adorned with a few plain metallic dressers alongside a few rows of dangling coat hangers strewn along a polished horizontal silver pole. Right...clothes, the Saiyan had never been one to really care about his appearance, but after a day messing around with fire, hell, he probably reeked of ash; it's more a miracle that his bed wasn't stained black, even if there was some weird squirrel thing glaring at him from his pillow.

Disregarding Fou entirely, he approached the other door, mumbling that the animal could wait five minutes; if the other was for storage, then this had to be...it opened to darkness, only to be replaced by the same bright light as before, the sight bringing a sense of relief to his exhausted mind, a simple personal bathroom with all the amenities the halfling could ever want; this place was built around efficiency, the sort of soulless corporate model that made every location miserable, not that it was much of an issue, his mom had made him pack an entire house worth of stuff in his capsule case, not that Trunks cared much for decorating, but he wasn't about to wear one of those awful uniforms he'd seen on the Doctor...well, more like those things wouldn't even fit on his arm, let alone on him... no way, he'd stick to his own supply; thank you.

He leaned over a stainless countertop, examining his reflection, the same tan visage as always, with tied-up purple locks falling just above his shoulders with a few strands loosely hanging in front of his face. Glancing toward his injured arm, the Saiyan rolled his eyes at the sight of dried blood along the limb; with a shrug, he closed the door shut, throwing his dirty clothes to the wind, his sword resting against the wall, figuring it was high time for a well-deserved shower...he turned a knob, raising a hand as the swordsman felt with a few drops, giving a nod of approval; hot water too, he'd never admit it, but that gave this place so many more points than they would ever imagine.

Minutes later, the hybrid escaped the steamy confines with an audible sigh; having discarded his singed clothes to the wayside, he reached a hand up, waving through his still-wet hair as it flowed freely without the constrictive hold of its usual band. He glanced down, loosely checking his simple black long-sleeve shirt atop a regular pair of form-fitting jeans held together with a plain white belt. The halfling kicked his boots into place, fluttering through the various knots and straps with practiced perfection, idly wondering if this place did laundry before disregarding it; knowing there was always good old soap and sink water if push came to shove; Trunks wasn't particular.

"...Fou kyu...Fou?"

Fou plotted his way across the matted bed, trying not to stumble despite its tiny legs attempting to traverse mountains of fluff in its way, reaching the edge like a wolf howling in the night; the animal stared at the fighter with both apprehension and suspicion.

Trunks slowly stood upright, glancing at the creature from the corner of his eye, "Where am I going?" getting a tiny nod, the teen shrugged, turning on his heels as he approached the door leading out into the facility, passing by a generic glass coffee table surrounded by various chairs, too bad he didn't drink the stuff. "Isn't it obvious?"

"Fou?"

The door opened with a hum and a hiss, exposing the ethereal white landscape behind the fighter as his shadow twisted and contorted into a giant beast, standing taller than the highest structures that humanity could hope to build, its rampaging form capable of tearing apart worlds as though they were nothing. His eyes gleamed in a mania the beast had never imagined as he muttered a phrase that would be feared for years to come, with stories traveling far and wide of its influence and capacity for untold destruction, "I'm hungry."

Before the passageway could slam shut, a figure crossed through the threshold, leaping through the air as it fluttered through their softened fur, with each strand billowing through the breeze as it landed atop the halfling's shoulder, joining him on his legendary quest, guided only by their honed senses and a desire for the secret treasures hidden within Chaldea's walls.

With a short sniff of the air, the warrior's mindset took its course, trudging down the nearly desolate ruins of this once world-renowned location, acting as a beacon in the darkness of the fallen world, his begrudging companion joining him for better or worse, winding through the same hallways, his pace only increasing as the pair spotted a simple sign, a darkened plate adorned with an accompanying fork and spoon, the symbols of their revolution, their ideology pushing them to move faster and faster...how long had they been running, days, weeks, months, years, nothing mattered besides this one universal ambition, and when all hope was lost, they had reached the arc of their temporary covenant blinded by its light.

It was beautiful... like the gods themselves had bestowed a restful death upon the fighter, as though he had never left Otherworld but had been rewarded with an afterlife of utter satisfaction. It appeared as one of the desolate cafes strewn about the world after the fall of mankind, although while they acted as beacons of destruction, this was nothing but a place of hope. Tables adorned the foyer, lining up oh so perfectly, guiding the warrior's sight to the looming centerpiece, a circular room with a small opening in the front, a generous menu standing beside its patient aura.

He took a hesitant step forward, unsure of his worth, ignorant of the inviting booths and chairs lining the entire room meant to house an army, yet at this moment, remained open only for their eyes to see. Trunks expanded his senses, feeling no one at all for quite a ways, but as he rested a hand atop the counter, he leaned in, seeing the objects of his desires. With shelves adorned with spices and sauces, mixes and flavors of all shapes and sizes, pots and pans to hold all the wonders of the world, and a humming fridge looming just over the horizon... would the Saiyan waste such an opportunity? Could his humanity hold out against an unstoppable tidal wave of instinct?

...

...

Ha! No.

Pots adorned his periphery, filled with the contents of the warrior's desire, from the simmering stock to row upon row of boiling rice. The Saiyan gently tossed a chicken breast into the air...the first of many, ignoring its slimy texture as he pursued its fleeting form with a blast of salt and pepper, lazily raising a finger as a beam of ki sliced through its fleshy confines again and again, with its cubed remains splashing onto a skillet of boiling oil.

Having spent a life underground, living off of rations and whatever odds and ends he and his mom could scrape together, whether from their greenhouse or the scavenged foodstuffs found across the world, they learned to adapt to their new environment. But a Saiyan has needs, one of which could only be filled by the ethereal hiss of melting butter as it took the place of its golden brown poultry counterparts, with an array of gingers, chopped onions, and a splash of garlic, a finery unknown to many of his kind, but one the fighter couldn't live without.

The hybrid was an artist, practicing both his needs and his craft, uncaring for what the world thought of him, alone with just an animal to keep his company, bobbing its head up and down as it watched him flow through each and every motion with instinctive interest. A bit of flour, some tomatoes, even a daring mix of chili and curry powder, stirred with a force unknown to humankind. The shelves buckled beneath his might, their hold over their ingredients falling by the moment as more disappeared, pulled into his concoction of glory.

First, the chicken stock fell, unable to keep up with the demands of Saiyan pride, its visceral liquids becoming part and parcel of his creation; then the chicken breast, even the tiny onions, bay leaves, carrots, not even the potatoes were safe, boiled to nothing more than a sauce laden with honey, soy sauce, and even dashes of salt, stirred until the tyrant was confident in his craft.

Trunks stood in pride, gleaming down at his creation, knowing the glory that awaited his senses, it had taken his time, effort, and even a piece of his very soul, but the warrior was ready, prepared to face the eternal onslaught of flavor. He raised a spoon, with the sauce, coated in floating cubes of perfectly brown chicken approaching his lips, this was it, this was-

"Fou!"

It happened in an instant, a white blur before his eyes, overtaking the spoon and its contents, flickering to the wayside. A tick of anger formed on the hybrid's forehead, his blue eyes glowing in silent rage, he traced the motion, watching as that little rat thing ate his invention...Trunks took a calming breath, looking back toward the simmering pot, knowing it was...full of white hair.

The time traveler looked back at Fou, with the creature giving what could only be called a shit-eating grin, with sauce stained atop his white fur, knowing he had won. Trunks looked at Fou, then at a pot of rice, then back at Fou again and again as his ears began to ring. He looked down in mock despair, facing the ground as he mumbled, "It's too bad..." Before Fou could react, a burst of white energy overwhelmed the warrior, his power level rising as a sudden tremor overtook the animal, with the Saiyan looming overhead, a forced smile on his face, "You're in the splash zone."

"FOUUUUUUUUUUUU"

...

A bit later

Stifling a yawn, Mash groggily walked with a sense of delirium to her person, nearly tripping on the jutting outlets sticking out of each wall more than a few times on her early morning journey. Calling last night sleepless didn't do it justice; whether it was the embarrassment of getting chewed out by the Doctor or what happened in the Singularity, it was up to anyone, but honestly? It was probably both...God, that conversation was awkward; she had never changed into regular clothes so fast in her entire life.

She groaned in mild annoyance, raising her hands to twiddle with her dangling red tie, trying to adjust the knot back into place with the nonexistent effort afforded to those who had that all too obnoxious burning in their eyes from a lack of sleep. At least today was light, not that the young Chaldean had much authority anyways; most of the actual work went to the adult members of staff, with her assigned to...well...Senpai duty, as the Servant had decided to call it.

Her reaction was a mixed bag; on the one hand, Mash had been raised in Chaldea all her life, and she knew it was a stringent and very professional organization that prided itself on routine and protocol, even letting an unknown like a civilian was cause for massive backlash, she didn't want to imagine what the world community would do if they discovered that they invited a wandering time traveler into a project like this...she frowned a bit, knowing that there wasn't going to be a response from them anyways...

She scanned her surroundings at an intersection, gazing up at the signs she had no need of reading, having memorized the entire facility a long time ago, yet deciding to use the symbols as guiding points...where would he go?... The Kyrielight sighed; it seemed simple, do what she did before, stand by his side as a loyal Servant, and report anything 'weird,' as the Doctor called it, but...he wasn't in his room, leading the demihuman on a wild goose chase, with only one location in mind.

A threshold loomed ahead, and with each step, the Servant's senses were filled with an enchanting aroma; she passed through without a second thought, knowing that the cooking staff were all gone, which could only mean-...eh?

Mash tried to raise a finger and adjust the fog from her glasses but soon squinted, realizing there was a literal wall of steam blocking the kitchen from her line of sight, with a tan hand emerging to grab a spoon handle before pulling it back within its misted confines, with a voice humming some tune she had never heard. She took a step forward, then another, dreaming of the tea kettle she knew was just beyond that barrier before shaking the thought away, "S-Senpai?"

There was a pause as the hand stopped stirring, letting go before, with the simple swipe of a wrist, the entire cloud blasted away, with the sudden breeze blasting through the Servant's lilac locks, and as the smoke cleared, it revealed the squinting Saiyan, no worse for wear despite the scorching heat surrounding him as he worked on his craft, giving a nod of recognition his expression lightened just a bit, "Oh hey, just in time."

Mash tried to open her mouth to question what he was doing, but the hybrid moved at breakneck speeds, and before she even knew what was happening, there was suddenly a tray in her hands...when?...how?...is that curry?...who has curry for breakfast? The Servant looked at him, then back at her hands in complete confusion, "I..." she broke for a moment before recomposing, a looming thought bursting to the surface, "I-...it's seven in the morning."

A sudden gravity overtook the Saiyan, with layers of strength the demihuman couldn't quite fathom as his figure grew and shot up into the sky within her mind, his voice authoritative and full of genuine belief in his own words, "Mash, it's the first of many important meals in the day, now...you should do well to ask yourself this question-" she instinctively winced, expecting the worst when- "tea or coffee?"

Moments later, the Servant had her head laid against a table, a steaming cup of tea next to her, utterly untouched as another trail of smoke wafted off her head, with all thoughts giving her a migraine; this was all too much to deal with in the morning...why did he seem so energetic about food? Senpai didn't seem that interested in well...anything before now...why-

*BOOM

The Kyrielight jumped out of her skin with an audible squeak, her purple eyes shooting up as her mouth hung wide open, seeing nothing more than a literal mountain of rice mere feet ahead of her in...is that a mixing bowl...it was. She sat there, lost for words, watching as layers of sauce trickled down the tower, pooling around at the bottom where an average-sized spoon rest beneath the coming storm. It was beyond comprehension, enough food to feed at least forty people, so high it was scraping the edge of the ceiling. How did it even get out of the kitchen?!

The table buckled as someone sat down across from her, reaching out to grab his tool of war from the bowl; the Saiyan, as if on autopilot, immediately slammed the device into his monstrous creation, taking the first of many bites as he hummed in thought, having to lean to the side to see the Servant as he chewed, "S-" he gulped, "So, how are you holding up after what happened yesterday?"

Mash briefly froze up, her features contorting between a passive neutrality and a frown before settling on a forced smile, shaking her head in silent denial of her own thoughts, "Nothing to worry about just...-" her tone changing on a dime, trying to force the conversation to steer away toward other horizons, "just thinking about today's schedule is all."

Wolfing down his food in the most well-mannered way possible, the Saiyan refused to stop his onslaught for even a second; it had been a whole day since he last ate, which was practically unheard of in the halfling's entire life. His tower visibly shrunk by the second before he stopped to take in a fresh breath of air. Trunks hadn't even thought of having things to do outside of fighting, the mere idea making him raise a brow at the implications, "Schedule?"

Mash hummed in approval, absent-mindedly stirring her fork; the mere sight of her Master's eating habits made her consider going on a diet; she shivered as the pile dropped by an entire foot in less than a minute, looking back down at the teen, who, slowly but surely was becoming more visible by the second, "It's nothing too demanding Senpai, the new Director wanted you to try summoning a few Servants-" she glanced to the side at the countless empty rows of tables and booths adorning what used to be a hub for little get-togethers and daily meals with a sigh, "this place is a little lonely."

On some level, the Saiyan wanted to say no to the idea outright; his experience with Servants hadn't been great, considering he had already killed three of them without much effort, but now here Mash was playing the pity card on him, or so the hybrid thought...he internally grumbled between his options, but decided he couldn't go through with saying no to the girl after what had happened to her...maybe some 'friends' would do her some good? And if they were a problem, well, there was always the nuclear option...but who would he-

His narrow eyes widened a bit in realization, remembering a select few conversations from the previous day; maybe one of them would make an appearance?... Not that the fighter knew how it worked, it just sounded better than meeting a complete stranger. The mountain crumbled by another foot, falling to the destructive force of Saiyan instinct; with the defender's head slowly coming into view, Trunks shrugged, "Sure, but I'll have to stop at Da Vinci's first; she has my jacket...wait-" her face came into view, causing him to squint in confusion, as though he had noticed something, "You wear glasses?"

A bead of sweat trailed down the girl's face, wondering how he only noticed this just now, but the Servant soon let it go, figuring that her new Master was just one of those types. She reached up a pale hand, pinching the temple of her specs before pulling them away, dangling the device between her fingers with a tired smile, "I used to need them before becoming a Servant, I couldn't even read without them, but now?" she hummed, scanning the hybrid's features in clear definition as he inhaled the rest of his plate in less than a few seconds, "...I guess I just feel weird not wearing them, you know?..."

She awkwardly laughed at herself, twirling the spectacles around as though there was some hypnotic answer buried beneath the depths of her mind, half-mumbling, "It sounds stupid when I say it out loud, but...it sort of helps me cope with it all, like a little thing I have control of."

Trunks scratched his chin as she spoke, understanding where his 'Servant' was coming from; having any say over even the most random aspect of your life was the difference between being coherent and totally insane in his world. He took a slow breath, running a hand through his hair, idly wondering why people even needed those things in the first place, "There's nothing wrong with wearing glasses; it kinda suits you."

Mash silently smiled at the compliment, choosing to take a sip of her sweet morning tea, as the Saiyan just stared at her dangling glasses with a brow raised as though he were thinking something. "Control, huh?..."The defender paused as he plucked her specs out of her hand, putting them on his head, his blue eyes immediately shifting around like he was lost.

Trunks fumbled around the table, finding a spoon to see his reflection, only getting yet more blurs. He grumbled, squinting to get any amount of detail as his head started to throb before gently plucking the spectacles off in a slight huff, handing them back to the Chaldean as he mumbled, "Yeah, I think you wear it better."

She giggled at that, putting them back on over her purple orbs, watching as he grumbled about having a headache as he walked away with his tray; she shook her head, "Senpai, they're not your prescription, you goof, you can't just wear other peoples glasses."

He stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the floor for a brief moment; that was a thing?... Seriously? He puffed his chest out, refusing to admit any amount of fault, "I knew that."

Mash's mug hit the table with an audible thump, her mind racing as she watched the teen putting away his tray...like she was forgetting something...oh! She perked up, "Senpai, have you seen Fou anywhere?..." the Chaldean frowned, "I haven't seen him since last night."

He completely stopped mid-motion, a visible shiver running up the Saiyan's back as he refused to turn and face the Servant, "...Noooo-"

"Fou!"

She looked around in complete confusion, hearing the tiny animal's high-pitched voice echoing across the room; Mash stood, walking past the hybrid as he awkwardly looked away; hearing the same cry, she looked up at the ceiling, trying to peer through the luminous bulbs above before...

*Tap-tap-tap

Mash winced as some dry particles fell down from above; wiping a pale hand over her face, she pinched one of the pieces of debris, raising it overhead as she squinted in perplexion. I-Is that...rice?

"Kyu Kyu Fou!"

The world became clear at that moment as the Servant peeked through the veil of light concealing the tiny animal, stuck the ceiling in a literal cacoon of smushed rice, defying gravity as his head poked out from within its dry confines.

Trunks slowly crossed his arms, whistling in denial until the Servant gave him a look from the corner of her eye; he gave in immediately with a sigh, "In my defense, he took my food."

The Servant stomped a foot on the tile floor, her voice ringing out for miles and miles within the barren hallways of Chaldea, "So you stuck him to the ceiling Senpai!?" She pointed a finger at the ceiling as Fou barked for help, "Senpai..."

Trunks rolled his eyes; of course, Mash wouldn't understand what Fou had done to him; food was a lifestyle for the Saiyan race. With a sigh, he took off the ground, slowly levitating upward, reaching out a hand to pull the creature free as dry rice rained down in...wait...how was it falling loose already? A sense of dread overcame the warrior as an audible crack rang out, followed by an earth-shattering roar.

*BOOM

"DIE FOU!"

Blasting through his facade of confinement, Fou spun with untold speed, the creature's form a complete blur as he arced his spin, lashing out in a violent overhead kick onto the hybrid's unsuspecting face, the impact sending shockwaves through his cheek as he flew off, crashing straight through a metal table as dust burst into the air around the landing site as rice rained down on top of the fallen warrior.

Mash stood there, mouth agape raising a hand toward her fallen Senpai, watching as Fou gracefully landed on the floor, raising its head high in victory; her form dropped, ready to drag the broken teen to the infirmary before-

*SCHWING

*BOOM

The table exploded as the swordsman surged upright in a blast of ki, standing firm without even so much as a scratch on him or his clothes, completely unscathed. A white aura erupted around him as the Saiyan's face contorted; he raised a finger, pointing directly at the shaking beast, "I will eat yo-"

*RING RING

As soon as it arrived, his explosive temper diminished into nothing as a beeping sound rang out, and with a sigh, Trunks pulled back a sleeve, checking his watch, eyes widening a bit before he nodded, turning on his heel, and walking back to the counter, "I'll be back."

Mash looked to Fou, then back to her Master, watching as the boy lazily dropped a mug beneath the coffee machine, mumbling instructions to himself about adding five shots of espresso. She just stared at him in complete confusion, subconsciously letting Fou leap into her arms as she felt the need to ask, "Senpai, what are you doing?"

As the mug filled with a hiss, with steam pouring off the cup in droves, he shrugged, grabbing it with his bare hand, utterly ignorant of the scorching temperatures. He briefly met the girl's stare with a deadpan, born from years of experience working with the smartest person on Earth, "Trust me; you work with a scientist, you either give them their coffee in the morning or you're not getting a response." He raised a hand as he walked off, muttering something about being back in a few, leaving the Servant in a destroyed cafeteria with an angry animal wrapped around her neck.

Mash half-heartedly debated following him, but that passing thought immediately fell away into oblivion as she slumped over, far too tired to deal with any of this today. Even as Fou relentlessly poked her face, smushing a paw against her cheek, the girl didn't have the heart or the mind to make him stop; instead, the Servant grabbed her still steaming mug of tea, lurched back and downed the entire concoction in one go, deciding she was going to need a lot of these today.

Moments later, she sat alone in the massive room, getting a visible chill as the vents funneled cool air into the surrounding atmosphere; whether it was that or knowing just how many people used to be in here at all times, she didn't have a clue. Fou sat across the table, staring intently at the Chaldean as she gently raised a spoon toward the creature, "Okay, Fou, say...Ahhh~"

"Fouuuu"

She giggled as the tiny creature chomped down, with her using the opportunity to ruffle a hand through Fou's fluffy white fur, "Close enough~." Her smile remained for a moment as she scanned the room, with old memories coming back by the second...it was the small things she missed, the things that happened almost on a daily basis that you never really consider until it's over, like those small conversations with other staff members about this or that.

Mash studied a hung-up menu beside the countertop, idly in awe that she could read it from so far away before she literally had to stand a few feet in front of it for the text to be anything but a blur. You wouldn't know it unless someone told you, but that spot was probably the most likely place to see a grizzled Chaldean drilling information into new recruits on the dos and don'ts of the cafeteria, usually what meal combos were 'complete shit,' or her preferred, 'eh, I mean...it's alright.'

Mash had dreamed of the day one of the actual restaurants they had planned for the facility would open; not having to awkwardly shuffle around in line with all eyes on her sounded like heaven on a plate, not like the food here was ever anything exciting, but...well, when you're feeding a few hundred people by the hour, the chefs really didn't have the luxury of putting a lot of effort into their dishes.

She stared down at her plate for a brief moment, getting actual flashbacks to the horror show that was watching her Senpai devour what had to be at least fifty pounds worth of rice in less than a few minutes...Would-...Would she have to report that? Another shiver ran down the demihuman's spine as she plucked her own spoon up, Fou was cute, but there was no way Mash would ever share utensils with the tiny animal, glumly scooping up a spoonful before taking a cautious bite, her eyes purple eyes sparkling in elation before a paw tapped her hand.

The Kyrielight sighed as she studied Fou's face, completely stained over, immediately reaching over to pluck the creature up by his tiny arms, sitting him in her lap as she pulled out a napkin, wiping the cloth along his furred face before pulling back with a smile, "All clean, right?"

"Fou kyu."

Not understanding a word the animal said, Mash slumped over, taking another generous gulp of her tea as she wallowed in her confusion...How come the only person that can't get along with Fou for two seconds is the only one that can talk to him? She blew bubbles into the caffeinated drink through her lips, mumbling, "It's not fair..."

*SLAM

"What's not fair?"

Jumping out of her skin with a shriek, Mash could only watch helplessly as she accidentally kicked Fou into the sky while he cried out in betrayal, arcing through the sky as she kicked off her seat, ready to dive after him before, with a simple raise of a hand, the animal landed on safe ground, immediately hissing the second his blue eyes opened.

Her gaze dropped, following a familiar set of purple sleaves, freshly cleaned and polished with not so much as a spec of dust on it or the newly refurbished Capsule Corp logo along the shoulder. Mash shook the shock away, her arms shooting out as Fou leaped from his savior's grasp, practically tackling into the Servant's chest as she held her ground, "S-Senpai, when did you get back?"

Trunks tilted his head, not really understanding the question, "I...-" he glanced over his shoulder, pointing a backward thumb at the looming doorway behind him, leading further into the depths of Chaldea, "I just walked in?"

Mash just stared at him, not knowing if it was even worth the effort to ask him how he moved around the facility that fast or how he walked clear across the room without her hearing anything despite being a Servant with honed senses... before losing interest from the keen force of exhaustion. Instead, she just put on the same supportive smile as always, adjusting her glasses with a push of a finger; seeing an unsettled look on the fighter, she deadpanned, "...Da Vinci?"

He bristled, having endured yet another encounter with one of the weirdest people he had ever met, the Saiyan couldn't quite describe it, but it was like looking at a mirror of Master Roshi. He found her completely slumped over her desk, and everything that transpired happened in less than a few seconds; she shot up like a bat out of hell, slammed her entire cup of coffee, patted him on the head, calling him a 'good boy,' before shoving him out the door with a sack of...something shiny...he deadpanned, "Da Vinci."

With a shrug, the Saiyan lazily opened the bag, reaching in and pinching one of the rainbow-like shards between his fingers, pulling it out as it shimmered in the light; the thing was no larger than a small pebble, its texture similar to a smooth glass as its sharpened edges tried to dig into his hardened skin to no avail. "You know what these are? She sorta just threw them at me."

Mash's eyes widened a bit as the Servant pushed aside her lilac locks, humming in mild excitement, staring at the glittering gem, "Saint Quartz?" her view shifted toward the hybrid, "She must really like you if she's just giving you that for free."

She raised a finger, poking at the shimmering object, speaking with a sudden authority, as though the Servant was a professor teaching her unknowing pupil the secrets of the world, "It's her way of hinting that you should summon a few Servants, Senpai~"

Trunks instinctively shivered at the thought, as if being associated with that woman was going to bring him nothing but despair and hardship, but he soon disregarded it, figuring that he was just being dramatic. He sighed, wondering why the inventor couldn't just say that instead of immediately diving back into whatever work she was doing, but his mom was the exact same way; the old 'figure it out yourself' mentality gets old really quick when you aren't as smart as them. He grumbled, "Alright, I guess...-" rubbing a hand along the back of his neck, "-so where do we do this?"

With some pep in her step, Mash strolled past the time traveler, motioning him to follow with a hesitant wave of her hand, guiding him out the door and to the right, following the same barren hallways for quite a while before taking a sudden turn into a new passageway made entirely of reinforced concrete overlaid with a thin layer of metal as a walkway, each step sending reverberations through the Saiyan's enhanced senses, and while the entire facility felt like an underground fortress, this place felt more like a bunker.

Trunks could see it as they marched further into the heart of Chaldea, with various posts that were once covered from top to bottom in armed guards, at least the magical version of it, given the checkpoint stations that now lay completely empty, some still having various papers and lists scattered about, coated in names, as though this place was restricted to a select few individuals...was summoning a Servant really this dangerous?

Mash calmy hummed as though nothing was strange about the sight, simply guiding the warrior as Fou glared at him from her shoulder, and within moments, she came to a complete stop, turning out of the way to grant him a greater line of sight. He took a step forward, hearing the faint echo of his own boots against the solid ground, staring out with a sense of both awe and perplexion.

The room was nearly pitch black, adorned with only the sporadic lighting emanating from intricate runes coating the walls themselves. Surrounding them was a series of small bleachers aligned in a circular ring, with various rows going upwards in all directions; it wasn't massive by any means, but definitely capable of holding a decent-sized crowd, likely a mixture of researchers, security members, and maybe even just a few curious onlookers who wanted to see what came out this time.

A sudden glow burst from within Mash's hand as her shield materialized seemingly out of nowhere, with the Servant lifting it as if the thing weighed nothing in her grasp. The Chaldean lowered the device, her head poking out between two of the massive protruding arms jutting out of the center of the defensive tool, a sudden caution overtaking her tone, "Before we met...the Director thought we could use my phantasm as a catalyst to summon more Servants but...we never got the chance to try it, so-" she awkwardly looked to the side, remembering the fate of her last Master when only she was there to help him, "let's hope it works."

Trunks shrugged, crossing his arms with an affirming nod in the girl's direction, "If it doesn't, we'll figure something else out." Looking up to the nonexistent sky above, he spoke with utter determination, "I mean, remember, we took Saber out together; that's worth something, Mash."

Her frown subsided after a moment, replaced by a light smile as the Servant took his words in, taking a slow, calming breath to settle her frayed nerves no...they did pull it off, and for the first time in the demihuman's life, she could say that an achievement was her own and not her just being carried to the finish line by someone else. Mash took a step, then another, flipping her shield over as she laid it in the center, with an intricate array of magical machinery overhead whirling to life on impact.

Trunks was a realist, taking the universe and its insanity with stride, knowing that despite the obscenity of how powerful certain species could become, there were simply some things he just couldn't hope to understand. The Dragon Balls weren't a norm in his life, having been lost with the death of Piccolo and Kami, and the Namekian set a distant dream on a planet they couldn't find, but the stories his mother told were always so fantastic, like a magical story where you could bring the people you love back from the dead, the same way that he came back...

The Saiyan placed a hand over his chest, feeling the thumping of his heart, knowing that mere days ago, it had been torn clean open, his organs spilling onto the barren sands below, yet here he stood, brought back with a single purpose in his life, lost in a time he had no idea about, but in that moment, as a blue light erupted, the hybrid thought of nothing, just...observing with utter curiosity as networks of glowing circuitry flashed across the entire chamber, traveling along the walls and ceiling, a projection of a mystic circle emerging from the shield, with symbols and designs that went beyond anything the fighter knew.

He clutched the bag tighter, glancing down toward the emblazoned red seal atop his hand, somehow knowing exactly what to do, as if some greater force had implanted the idea within his mind. He took three, spinning their jagged forms between his fingers before approaching; his hand balled into a fist as it loomed over the glowing circle below, its ethereal light reflecting in his eyes as they flashed green; this was something reserved for a true magus, someone that had spent their life perfecting their craft, earning the right and the privilege to become a Master, Trunks had neither the knowledge of magic nor the ability to practice it, having been born from a culmination of two species never meant to meet, yet there he stood, a contrast to the universe surrounding him, so far from home, yet focused on helping a people that he owed nothing to, guided by his own morals in preventing more tragedy from befalling other worlds, he could only wonder if that was worth something...

He let go.

*FLASH

A swirling light transformed into a whirling maelstrom of energy, shooting straight into the air as a blinding light overwhelmed the chamber with its ethereal glow. The Saiyan braced himself, arms crossed as his senses expanded, feeling a presence blink into existence, their shadow looming within the relentless glare surrounding them.

Dust swirled around the bunker-like room, surrounding the hybrid in layer upon layer of smog, yet he stood firm, his mind clicking together in recognition as an all too familiar voice, with an ever-present undertone of both severity and utter distance, as though he were speaking from a stance far beyond where he currently was, "So you survived? Hmph, I guess that means I was right about you-" He clicked his tongue as though he remembered something foul, his figure becoming more visible by the second, "Well...at least I can do this properly now."

The light dwindled as the Servant took a step forward, their metal heel slamming onto the hard floor below, revealing a familiar yet utter contrast to the Saiyan's last encounter. With the same ghostly white hair and tan undertone to his skin, utterly free of the burning red marks which stained them prior, standing far taller than the hybrid, a pair of grey eyes met his stare, no longer contaminated by whatever sickness had befallen the man. He wore the same protective armor, blacker than the night yet coated with layers of white cutting through the surface, this time overlaid with an open red jacket, tied loosely together by a winding mesh of white cloth, tied to perfection as his equally vibrant waistcoat shuffled in the artificial winds flowing throughout Chaldea.

Trunks didn't move, just standing there in silent awe at what had just happened; if it wasn't for his experience dealing with the Dragon Balls before, he swore this probably would have made him go crazy...different walks of life and all that. He crossed his arms, giving the hero a nod of acknowledgment, "Didn't think you'd follow through so fast."

Surveying his surroundings with an eye only known to those who had experienced a lifetime of war, the Servant silently took it all in at once, memorizing every minute detail as though an inevitable conflict were to break out at any second. Giving a light snort in response, he spoke, "You called out, and I chose to answer, though I can't say for certain whether I've had a Master quite like you...-" he deadpanned, "You did impale me after all."

Without missing a beat, the Saiyan didn't even bat an eye, staring straight at the Heroic Spirit without so much as a semblance of fear or concern, "Because you were fighting for the wrong side-" he clenched a fist tight, with an audible stretch reverberating across the room, his blue eyes gleaming, "and I'll do it again if you cause problems."

Mash sputtered at the sudden hostility, about to jump in before the Servant just gave a snort in response, placing a hand against his waistcoat, "There you go again, barking out those morals of yours for everyone to hear," He looked away in a mock huff, before his expression lightened, as though he were reminded of something, before glancing back, slowly raising a hand toward the hybrid, "But from here on, you can rely on me as your Archer, Master."

A slight smirk grew along the halfling's tan features as he reached out, clasping the Servant's hand in his as his command seal glowed bright for just a moment, though he paid it no mind. "Drop the Master bit; it's just Trunks; if we're doing this, then I want it to be as equals; I've already heard enough Servants preaching about who's better than who."

The Archer's eyes widened a bit at the statement as he let go, slowly trudging beside the hybrid as he remained on standby, his slicked-back white locks bouncing with each step taken, his tone a mix of both understanding and mild surprise, "I see...have it your way."

With a quiet smile from Mash, the hybrid stood there confused for a moment, not really sure what to do...he could summon more, but should he?... After the Chaldean waved him forward with a flick of her wrist, he nodded along; okay, this is what we're doing today, apparently. With the flick of a wrist, the process began again, with a projected summoning circle that began to spin and twist with the onset of three more of those strange rainbow-colored gems.

As the light blinded the Saiyan, he stood there, curious to see who would step out of that spiraling mess of color next; it felt like he was gambling...well, maybe? Not like Trunks had any experience using those machines; it was more a mixture of exploring the ruins of old casinos or hearing horror stories of his mom wasting millions of Zeni on a whim...not like their family ever had money troubles; but still...they-

*Bump-Bump

Darkened clouds of purple smoke emerged from within the light, tainting its ethereal white, with twinges of blackened smoke overwhelming its divine presence. Every fiber of the Saiyan's being traced a new, malevolent energy signature, with the very atmosphere around the three growing cold by the second, with his breath visibly showing for the first time since arriving in this place.

*Tap-Tap-Tap

Rhythmic and enchanting, an elusive figure loomed within the darkness, their shoes oh so gently clicking against the floor as they slowly approached, their voice, feminine yet distant, silently humming a malevolent tune. He braced himself for the inevitable, feeling his ki begin to rise as if to smite whatever evil was to emerge; refusing to back away even as the cloud overwhelmed his person, he raised a hand, stopping his two allies from doing anything, knowing this was something he needed to face alo-

A pair of gloved hands slowly emerged, approaching the hybrid from below, their arms utterly covered in a silken purple cloak adorned in a fine array of golden threads interwoven along its edges, cupping his face from the sides, traveling along as though they were inspecting something, with him standing there, having to fight the instinctive urge to blast whoever this was into microscopic pieces. A voice rang out, with a figure slowly emerging before his very eyes, "...Such a pretty face~...though-" the tone darkened just a bit more, "It's a shame that it's marred by such a hulking frame, unfitting for someone young like yourself."

The clouds slightly parted ways, his gaze falling atop a cloaked figure, their head almost entirely covered by a blackened veil, with strands of blue hair peaking out the sides, laying against their exposed lower face, paler than the moon itself. She wore a form-fitting purple dress, reflecting an internal darkness covered in a slightly darker cloak with a billowing black cape wafting behind her small form, simple yet darkly deceptive, as though the lack of finery were a cloak for an evil trapped deep within. The warrior met her nonexistent stare, "I'm eighteen."

She smiled as though she heard something funny, its small yet apparent existence a reminder that even the darkest of beings could find humor in their own way, yet her traveling gaze persisted, her fingers resting near his almost-rectangular eyes as she studied them with fascination, "That's quite young, but don't fear, I won't bite," her head tilted, "at least not yet~."

And just like that, the woman let go, her cold grasp falling to the wayside as she strolled past the fighter without making a contract, pausing at the doorway as shadows surrounded her form once again, "I'd like to speak with you in private when the chance arises...a wicked witch doesn't like to show her brews to the public after all." She darkly giggled, her steps growing more distant by the second, "prying eyes follow where greatness travels; it's something you shall learn soon enough, young Master~."

Trunks stood there just watching her figure disappear into the distance; that entire experience was just one of the many bizarre things to happen to him since arriving at this place. He raised a hand to his face, still feeling a slight chill to the touch; suppressing his embarrassment, he decided to just get the rest over with, marching forward with determination laden upon his features, barking as he dropped the final set of gems onto the Chaldean's phantasm, "I'll deal with it later; I can sense wherever she is anyways."

Looking back, the Servant closed his eyes, humming in thought as he crossed his arms; speaking from some past experience or other, he seemed to drill into his memories for a moment, scrounging around before muttering, "Nothing good will come from working with that Caster, she's the sort to see others as a means to an end."

The light burst outward, engulfing the chamber in a sea of energy once again; Trunks glanced toward Archer as he continued to face the now empty hallway, the sight making the Saiyan raise a brow, "You know her?"

Even as the light rapidly grew, with a presence growing more apparent by the second, neither paid it any mind, instead; Archer gave a slight nod, "In a sense of the word, but...in another time and place...It would do you well to prepare for any-"

*BOOOOOOOM

"GUESS WHO, YOU RED BASTARD!"

Carried forward by an explosion of power, a figure rocketed out of the swirling vortex, their body still forming as they flew through the skies, their metal boots scorching into existence with a purple flame, clenched together as their torso ignited into life, wearing a distinctive blue bodysuit intermingled with metallic clasps lining the surface, followed by a ferocious grimace beneath a pair of searing red eyes, their lazuli-like hair shooting straight upward as the wind billowed over his entire form.

The Celt flew through the nonexistent skies, his trajectory planned and executed to perfection; this was beyond him, or any one man, for hatred is a strong motivator, driving human beings to move far beyond their own means, where all else falls to the wayside, the spearman zipped passed a familiar purple visage, giving the hybrid a wave as he raced toward his target, a relaxed smile on his face, knowing this was the culmination of many lifetimes of anger, Trunks considered stopping him, but the man's words had resonated within his heart, this battle was beyond the Saiyan warrior, and he would respect that, looking away in understanding as a phrase rang out for the heavens to hear, "ULSTER ENTRY!".

*BOOM

Archer's chest plate buckled beneath his Celtic might, the man had tried to turn, to react, having been so lost in his thoughts that only through years of honed experience could he turn to tank the blow just a bit better, the force overwhelmed his person, driven through who knows how many tales of rivalry and hatred, spittle flew from his mouth as the Servant rocked down the hallway, the first of many blows in their legendary war for Chaldea.

Landing with a satisfied sigh, the Lancer turned toward his former allies with a casual wave and a nod toward the halfling and his lilac counterpart, "Boss-man, little lady-" he hummed in uncertainty but blew it off immediately, "Ah, what the hell, bring it in!"

Mash blustered as the man dragged the pair into a bear hug, not even letting them respond before bouncing on his heels in excitement, "God, today cannot get any better; the Throne gave me a running start-" he winked at the ceiling, "love you big guy!" the universe itself seemed to blush at that. He pushed on, grinning all the while, "I get to kick Red's ass AND see some familiar faces; wait...there is one thing."

Nodding to himself, the spearman looked to his surroundings with a grimace, shaking his falling blue hairs to the side, "Tch, can't go on a proper hunt underground; how am I supposed to seal our pact without one, huh?!"

Mash got...a feeling, words couldn't quite describe it, but something warned her that something awful was about to happen. She looked to her right, beyond the Servant and toward her Senpai, his focus not on her but...as Trunks raised a hand, saying he had an idea, the Chaldean could only beg, "Senpai...don't."

There was no mercy for what had transpired, Trunks needed to establish that he was the top dog in this endless war game between him and an animal he didn't even know existed until it kept trying to fight him. He pointed a finger at the creature perched atop Mash's shoulder, muttering a simple phrase, "...what about him?"

Fou looked up, its tiny blue eyes meeting the manic stare of a hunter obsessed with his favorite hobbies, seeing little more than a demonic red glint from the man's crazed expression; the beast didn't need a warning or anything to know it was time to run, he blasted off Mash's shoulder, racing down the hall at near supersonic speeds, with a blue blur chasing after him, shouting about loving when prey runs away, getting chased by a pleading Mash all the while.

Trunks took a satisfied breath, begging a lazy stride down the hall, knowing that he had truly won today's battle; after everything that Fou had done, it was finally time for retribution, and while the teen couldn't understand the unspoken hatred between Archer and his Lance-wielding counterpart, he wouldn't get in their way, the fight was between them and no one else.

He approached Archer's downed form, planning to help the man up, only the Servant beat him to the punch, standing completely unharmed on his own two feet, armor unscathed, his expression shifting from one of casual indifference to utter severity in less than a second. Trunks stopped, unsure of what was happening, before the man spoke, "Good, they bought that little act...we need to talk, you and I."

The swordsman's mouth hung open for a moment in confusion, looking to the side for a second, only seeing the metallic walls surrounding the isolated pair before refocusing on his newest ally, "What do you mean? I thought-"

Archer scoffed, wiping a layer of dust off his red jacket with the swipe of a tan hand, his stoic expression more telling than anyone could believe, "Do you truly think a loudmouthed fool like him could get the jump on me when he screams everything under the sun like that?" A mild irk appeared on his forehead as he shook away the thought in a brief show of distaste, "If I had dodged him, then we wouldn't be able to talk alone like this, where we can speak honestly...now-" the Emiya crossed stood there, leaning against a wall as a vibrant light shined behind his form, "when are you going to tell them?"

Trunks looked to the ground for a moment, squinting as he considered the man's words; not understanding what was happening, the fighter regained his composure, raising an open palm upward as he spoke, "Tell them what?"

The Servant's grey eyes gleamed beneath the artificial lights, his weary tone dispersing into a sea of authority, looming above the time traveler as the pair stared off against one another; with neither party willing to give way, the Archer took a slow breath, and spoke, "that you aren't human."

...

And that's a wrap!

For those who are annoyed with my creative liberties, I understand, but it's sort of a necessity if I want to get any real development and bonds going; this is a fanfic based on character dynamics at the end of the day; I work with the hand I'm dealt.

I'm really looking forward to the Future (awful pun) of this story, and once again, all of your responses and critiques have been fantastic; it means the world to me that people like the idea of a Dragon Ball x Fate crossover, especially with an underutilized character in the community, (if I had to guess I'd say about 90% of DBZ crossovers involve Goku, Gohan, or even Goten as the lead, I need more Future Trunks in my life and clearly so do the readers!)

We're going to try to add new Servants at a healthy and sustainable rate; the last thing I want is for this story to retain interest by just constantly throwing new people into the mix; we'll do our best to expand upon every significant player in this story to the best of our abilities and form genuine connections and conflicts overtime; with all that said and done, take it easy, and I'll see you all in the next one; cheers.