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.

5. Divergences

Welcome back to another edition; back so soon? As one of you mentioned, the last chapter was a necessary info dump where we introduced Trunks to Chaldea, establishing a few bonds and getting things settled, so I think I owe you a more eventful chapter before working on my other story. At some point in the future, I'll whip up a concept map of Chaldea once my beta reader and I have hashed out exactly what we want it to look like.

A few housekeeping things to get out of the way, and then we can dive back into things; first, to clear something up; Trunks is not going to learn magic, nor is he going to teach anyone to use ki; he comes from a separate universe where Fate's type of magical power just doesn't exist, (the guy also doesn't have circuits so, I don't know where this idea sprung up from lol). It may sound like a personal critique, but it sort of destroys the premise of a crossover when you make one universe's power the norm instead of having both. Now, we can talk about him possibly training with the Kais or something in the future, but that's on Dragon Ball terms, not Fate; that option is basically off the table.

Some of you have been commenting or DMing me about a potential pairing, and while it's on my radar, I'm focused on getting this story off the ground before we dive into that sort of thing (it's very bizarre saying that when we're already 80k words in). I like to keep my readers in the loop, and while we are currently drawing up lists to debate, recommendations are very welcome, but I stress they stay within reason and common sense; feel free to comment or message me directly about it if you're so inclined.

There's been a bit of back and forth between power scaling, which was basically guaranteed from the start, where some people claim Trunks should be an invincible god, the others tend to argue in the opposite direction; you really can't win these arguments so I'll say I'm going to do my best to write fair, yet reasonable outcomes to particular battles, factoring in conceptual elements and divinity against the sheer power of the Dragon Ball universe.

Let's be reasonable; although destroying Earth is practically impossible in Fate, being able to crack a planet is still worth quite a lot, and on the other hand, there are plenty of anti-alien phantasms (like Excalibur) that could wipe an alien easier than Goku died to a heart virus.

Quick side note, the Trunks/Fou rivalry started as an offhand idea, which I'm happy to see everyone enjoy; their slapstick routine isn't going anywhere for quite a while, whether or not it's because I think it's hilarious or that developing a character that practically only says their name is hard, I'll leave that up to you to decide.

With everything said and done, let's dive into things and go straight into the meat of what I've been waiting for; the Orleans Arc starts now!

...

"I'M MY FATHER'S SON!" -Gohan to Bojack

...

"That you aren't human."

*Bump-Bump

A twitch of a hand, an instinctive grasp for an anchor which didn't exist, only to fall into a restless stupor once more, with a relentless drumming of a heart pounding faster by the second. Trunks had never known fear; death was a common part of his life, snuffing out his closest friends and family without any trace of mercy; over the years, the Saiyan had learned to stop caring if he lived or died, driven by the singular purpose of exterminating the people that destroyed his world, nothing else mattered.

The Earth was broken, with fragmented communities huddled in the various crevices still afforded to them in the lawless wastes. Wherever people would try to reclaim the planet that was lost to them, the Androids would appear and turn everything to dust once again, their machine-like efficiency driving the human race into near extinction. There was no hope for a world without a population to inhabit it, but in some ways, it made things less complicated for the time traveler...Gohan had taught him to remain distant, protect the innocent and leave before they could ask questions; when your world is under attack by foreign entities, imagine the response if people suddenly realized there were aliens living among them too...one's with a legacy of exterminating other species for a living, that was something you kept under lock and key if you ever wanted to live a normal life around other Earthlings. Long after his best friend had died, Trunks tried to follow his lessons as best he could; this question never came up because the warrior never let it happen.

It was a scene like any other, with Archer patiently waiting, arms crossed, blocking the only exit from the summoning chamber laid at the very heart of Chaldea, a monumental facility unlike any other, carved into rock, ice, and snow, going down and around for near miles beneath the desolate world beyond...there was nothing out there, no people, no other place to seek help, this was it, and for the first time in the halfling's life, he couldn't walk away, and he was scared.

Trunks' form tensed, with every honed muscle screaming at the hybrid to follow the course of instinct, only suppressed by his human alignment, held by a thread between fight or flight and rationality. If he were any younger, the time traveler would have chosen the former, taking off into the sky and never talking to these people again; cutting your losses was a norm in the wasteland, but that wasn't an option here. He took a slow, unsteady breath, his chest shaking in trepidation as he forced himself to meet the man's stare, "...How do you know?"

As mechanical components whirled behind the pair, with the summoning chamber settling back into place, its sounds were overridden by a simple yet all too confirming huff from the Servant as he raised an open palm, speaking as he examined his clenched fist, "When we met, I had thought you were just another upstart magus, floundering his way through pride and hubris, but you were different."

The metal flooring beneath the Servant audibly creaked as he leaned atop its surface, yet he paid no mind, only focused on the strange Master before him, "Power is an elusive thing; some crave it beyond anything else, while those who have it either look upon themselves or others with disdain." He gave the teen a slight nod, "Call our encounter what you will, but I can tell when my opponent is holding back, almost always for a show of force down the line, but yours never came; you were stronger than me in every conceivable way, yet you did just enough to let me pass on my own terms, and I didn't know why."

Trunks could only stare at the man, unsure of what to say in this encounter, with his words making less sense by the moment; he huffed, pinching between his eyes for a moment before reorienting, an irk of anger growing within him, "Is it really that hard to think I just wanted to help them?..." the fighter scoffed in frustration at both himself and his circumstances, raising a hand only for it to fall against his side in exasperation, "Yeah, I do hold back, because there's a fine line between going through with something and being just another monster, people are scared of things they don't understand, and if they knew how massive that gap between us is, they never would have let me in."

With a tap of his foot, Archer raised a hand, pointing a thumb backward toward the looming lights trickling in from the distant halls of Chaldea, his expression firm, "That fear is exactly why they invited you here, they're desperate and riding a high on someone that can handle themselves, and someday they're going to question what you are and what you really want."

Trunks grit his teeth, briefly exposing his sharpened canines, swiping a hand over the air as dust billowed across the chamber, "And I'll tell them that all of this is just so I can go home and see my mother again, my HUMAN mother, you say I'm not human, but I was born on Earth, raised on Earth, this planet is just as much mine as it is yours."

The Servant shook his head, eyes closed for a few seconds as he let out a breath, soon reopening their gray confines to the world beyond, "I could care less that you're an alien; I've seen enough of your life to know what your intentions are...despite what your so-called Saiyan race did.

The halfling froze up, his mouth agape as the counter guardian just stood there, the shock making him turn to look in every direction as though he were checking for an unseen observer, "I- ah...-" his anger soon taking hold as energy began to build within him, "How the hell do you know that?"

Without missing a beat, Archer raised a tan hand as electricity began to jolt off of his person in waves, crackling along his unfazed flesh as a bright light flashed into existence, with blurred lines of intricate magical pathways weaving a weapon into reality. Within seconds, an all too familiar sword rested in the Servant's hands, a blade inherited from the hybrid's teacher and best friend a short time before the man's studied the weapon for a moment, staring at his reflection atop its polished surface, "Call it a talent of mine, but as I scan and replicate a tool for later use, each facet of its history becomes known to me, everything you've seen and done with it has been recorded within its essence."

His view slowly shifted, allowing the weapon to disperse into an array of colorful particles before even they fell into complete oblivion, with the Servant's features remaining steadfast, "I can't claim to comprehend an existence like yours, but I know full well the feeling of wanting what's best for others and failing time and again, it's commendable that you keep trying against all odds, but there are consequences for keeping things like this from others."

Raising a hand, Trunks gripped a hand over his jacket, knowing that his mother had given it to him as both a way to remember her and as a reminder of everything his journey into the past stood for, never having to talk about it all until now, faced with the reality of someone knowing exactly what he was. He shook his head in denial, "It's not that simple; I don't just do things because they're right." The Saiyan sighed, "It's because I'm the only one left; everyone else that stood a chance in my time is dead, and if I don't act, then everyone else dies; I couldn't live with myself if I let that happen."

Trunks took a slow breath, feeling his heart rate jumping by the moment as a long-suppressed frustration vented its way to the surface once again, "Now I'm here, and it's just the same as before, only I'm stuck in this facility with all of them, and I have no clue what they would think of me if I told the truth, so no, I'm not going to risk my only chance of getting home for the sake of being completely honest with them, it's big talk coming from the Servant that won't even tell me his name."

The warrior shoved the conversation aside, marching forward and past the Heroic Spirit as the man just stood there, facing away toward the summoning chamber with a stoic expression, "If you truly want to be seen as an equal instead of a Master, you can't expect your Servants to accept it when you won't grant them the same trust that they place on you."

Trunks paused at the doorway, his form shadowed by the luminous lights overhead, with recent memories surging to the surface, with images of a pink-eyed monster looming within his mind, one he stood no chance of beating, yet another failure on his list. And as he turned to walk away, his tone shifted into one of utter gravity, "If you saw what that sword didn't, then you'd know that some secrets are best left burned and forgotten; I've kept this secret my entire life; and I'm not planning to stop now."

Archer turned, watching the teen's figure slowly disappearing down the hallway, his emotionless stare ever apparent, "Then I won't speak of it any further, but I'm willing to listen if you need someone to hear you out; I said that I wished to see you grow, and I intend to follow through on that."

With a wave of a hand, the hybrid walked off.

...

Minutes Later

Trunks paused at a threshold, a barrier, both physical and not, a hodgepodge of construction tape and warning signs strewn before a hastily made barricade blocking off a stairway leading down into the depths of the Earth. From what he had figured out so far, Chaldea was built on layers, with the ones near the surface having far more development than the lowest, some areas connected, others having a specific entranceway, making finding your way a nearly impossible task if it weren't for his ability to sense energy.

The facility was both complicated and not at the same time; once you got your head wrapped around things, it started to make sense, with designated sections for housing, research, and development, and an entire wing for the command structure to work in, you had your usual facilities strewn around that he had encountered so far, an infirmary, a few gyms here and there, maybe a sign for a pool? But there was also a lot of open space, sections that didn't seem to have a use quite yet, laying cold and abandoned without anyone to work on them, a perfect place for a so-called Witch to hide away.

Kicking the debris to the side, the Saiyan glanced down the seemingly endless cavern of stairs going down into a darkened abyss, lit up by the occasional temporary light on the walls and ceiling. Trunks could feel the energy wafting up from below, like a physical embodiment of malice, the woman gave off a presence of sheer hatred, and it felt like something he needed to deal with sooner rather than later. Without a word, he began his journey, neither afraid nor worried about what the Servant could do to him, each step taken giving off an audible echo against the cold concrete and half-built metallic tiles.

As the fighter made his way down, he could hear the melodic tune of her hums against the barren walls below, with a sort of beauty interlaced with a threat of total annihilation for those who dared go against her, like a rose coated in sharpened thorns, daring the unknowing traveler to hold on, only for their flesh to be torn asunder. He paid it no mind, instead wondering how he would handle the matter.

There were so many ways it could go, but regardless there had to be two outcomes from this situation, and Trunks wasn't one to compromise; while the average person would want to learn more about the Servant before making a decision, he was a different kind of leader. It wasn't just his honed senses that gave off warning signs, but a lifetime of hardship in a broken and beaten down world, giving him insights into the worst that humanity could offer; no, the swordsman would handle this like any other threat, with as much force as necessary.

His boots echoed across the cavernous floor as he passed the final step, landing on a threshold between civilization and hollowed ice and rock, a small cavern cut into the Earth with a few winding tunnels in each direction, intended for some project or other, now empty, or so many would think. The hybrid's breath escaped as wafting white smoke drifted toward the ceiling.

The sing-song hum returned, growing slightly closer from the vast darkness ahead as a gentle tune bounced off the cavernous walls with an echo, providing a chorus unlike any other. "My-my, you wished to speak so soon, young Master~?" She clicked her tongue in disappointment with a graceful sigh, "I've yet to even prepare a meeting place for us; you must think so little of me~."

Trunks could practically feel the condescending tone of her voice as though she were slapping him in the face with it; he glanced to the side, seeing a small trail of winding wires going up and around the wall into the looming cavern above, connected to a small yellow generator below, he kicked the device with the side of his boot, the machine hummed to life as he spoke, the lights turning on at once, "This won't take long."

The Servant remained shrouded in shadows, controlled by her seemingly boundless magical reserves, and yet as the luminous glow from above grew, it began to fade, brought about by her own whims, soon dispersing to reveal her smiling robed form, standing amid a sea of rock coated ice, utterly uncaring for the biting cold which would bring any average human to their knees. "To the point then?...hmph, an admirable trait; far too many magus enjoy the thrill of boasting of their accomplishments to one another as if their pathetic endeavors mean anything of value; I can feel it in the very halls of this place."

She dejectedly sighed as though no one in the world could hope to understand the Caster's plight, her hands pulled behind her back as she gently stepped over the slicken floor, "Time and again, you see it, the fools of the modern world try to reach the True Magic they have no right to possess, they simply don't know their place, and should be washed aside."

The Saiyan's blue eyes began to glow as his deep-rooted anger only grew by the moment, knowing this was exactly what he had hoped to avoid. He took a step forward, ignoring the audible crunches with every foot taken, "Then why answer the call if you don't want to be here? What do you gain from all the smoke and mirrors?"

Caster gave a forlorn sigh, continuing on her trek to nowhere in particular, facing the ground below, "When a Servant is summoned, we get a glimpse of who our potential Master is, you know?... We have the right to appear or refuse the request; I've heard quite the array of answers, many believing in their inherent right to victory or a plan for glory by any means necessary-" she darkly chuckled, "although I dabble, the concept grows quite old after enough time, from one soul to the next, their failure is all but guaranteed in their hubris, but this time?"

She slowly spun, her darkened smile looming in the shroud surrounding the woman at all times, her sing-song voice taking on a new gravity, "I heard something entirely new, something...honest for lack of a better word." Caster took a step toward the hybrid, then another, "While every magus has a goal for which we aspire with all our hearts, you simply don't care, not for lack of interest but belief in your own strength, noble, yet blinded by that disgusting muscle you seem to cling to so desperately, but let's shift a bit...why have you come here exactly? Is it simply your bravado or a hopeless belief in some innate good of mine?"

Caster clicked her tongue with a pleasurable sigh as though she had caught on to something, "You see, hope is a poison; believing in the potential betterment of others does little to assuage the horrors of reality; I'd rather sit and watch men wallow in their own despair than give in to such a concoction, I brew my own and refuse to partake."

Trunks' mind rand wild, he had never actually been a leader in his entire life, always working alone, never having to correct anyone, always trying to see the good in others, but his experiences in the past had taught him something, sometimes you need to take action...Servants and mages seemed to look down on normal humans as if they were nothing; maybe it was time to move beyond how his mom or even Gohan had taught him to respond...how would his father react to someone like this?

He scoffed, feeling an intensity surging from within him, knowing that the woman wasn't taking him seriously, "Something I learned pretty quick growing up, appealing to someone's morals is worth nothing... if you had any, to begin with, then you wouldn't be making empty threats."

She laughed at that, a harmonious spell of her sinister ideals, culminating in a rhythmic chant to the world beyond, "What you call empty, I call patient; any fool can pick up a knife and gut some other worthless brigand all they want, but there's a joy to watching the slow decay of those who deserve it, have you no sense of name?-" She took a step forward, "Have you no desire to have your efforts culminate in a grand exhibition as your product destroys all which it encounters?"

Small pebbles began to shake and rise on the cavern floor beneath the halfling as he grit his teeth, "And what do you get out of it? You poison some innocent person and watch them die, that's it!?" He practically growled, "Let me guess, you get some sick kick out of it, and that's all there is."

The woman lightly scoffed in indignance, as though the hybrid had offended her in some fashion, "Well, of course, I enjoy it; it's the same as finding a pretty face like yours after all, you study it and decide how it makes you feel~" raising a few fingers, she listed in a sing-song voice, "There's a due process to it all; a place to brew, a place to test, and a group of subjects, willing or not-" she feigned a sweet smile, "But since you're so upset, I'll promise to leave it to a simple one or two every now and then after I find just the right place for a little workshop of mine~."

Her smile grew beneath her hood, the sight forcing more and more energy out of the Saiyan as swirling clouds of dust began to billow across the chamber, "You think I'm just going to let you run free in this place because you were summoned? Because you think you can do whatever the hell you want? Well, let me tell you something."

Crossing his arms in defiance, the Saiyan held his ground, uncaring for the transparent waves of purple energy washing over him as the Servant relentlessly smiled in her feigned delight, "I might not know your name, but I can tell exactly what kind of person you are, and just how far beyond redemption you truly are, there's no point talking you out of it, you know why?"

White ki erupted across the warrior's form, with the ground giving way beneath him as wind rocketed toward the Servant, bouncing off of some unseen, glass-like barrier surrounding the woman. Her smile retracted into a frown, and he gave no quarter, marching forward with a burning pride within himself, "Every living thing gives off an echo, the words you say, your thoughts and actions, the fundamental building blocks that make you who you are, I can sense it all, and your energy is nothing but wicked, so I'm going to give you an ultimatum right here, right now."

Trunks stood directly in front of the Heroic Spirit, looking down on her as his energy surged, with waves of fallen debris blasting around them, his brow furrowed, "You'll swear to never harm anyone in this building, not the staff, not the Servants, no one, and you'll stay where I can see you."

Caster stood there a moment, her hood overshadowing her immaculate features, her silence soon turning into a light chuckle, her shoulders bouncing up and down before it morphed into cackling laughter as she cried out in a mocking tone, "Oh, and then what dear Master? You're going to stop me when I toy with those men upstairs?"

A blush overcame her pale features as she continued to giggle into the surrounding darkness, "Can you even fathom the number of people that have gotten in my way and lived to tell the tale? My entire existence is built upon treachery and deceit, and I've killed for far lighter offenses." Shaking her head, the woman fell into another fit of cries, "Do you really think you can do a thing to stop a Heroic Spirit?"

Her laughter continued as the hybrid stood there in silence, with the Servant running a gloved hand across her face, "Oh my, you must forgive me for someone with no magical energy; you truly are something else, my little barbarian~" She took a step past the Saiyan, her grin growing more menacing by the moment, "Perhaps when I've driven them all into insanity...or perhaps I'll make them impotent first...then make them go mad... I'll point them in your direction, and let them know just who caused this to happen."

*Bump-Bump

Time slowed as the warrior raised a hand, his ki flaring as it slammed down, crashing through the Servant's barrier as the sounds of shattering glass broke through the veil of silence intermingled with her fading laughter, grasping her shoulder with enough force to stop the Spirit dead in her tracks.

*CRUNCH

Bones audibly popped as the Caster dropped to her knees in less than a second, slammed down with an impossible force as her nerves screamed in pain; with the Saiyan looming overhead, she tried to flick a wrist to launch the magic which had become second nature in her perfected craft, only for an even greater pressure from above to come crashing down, her flawless face colliding with the cold floor below.

*CRUNCH

Cracks spread through solid rock as the hybrid put more and more energy into his onslaught, feeling the woman's reinforced bones giving way beneath his one-handed hold, his eyes glowing as a deep-rooted rage boiled over, his authoritative voice echoing into her very mind as he spoke, "Your kind only respond to one thing, so I'm going to talk, and you'll listen, try anything and...well-"

He raised a free hand, pointing a single finger out toward one of the many spiraling caverns splintering off from the main chamber as a luminous glow overtook the digit, with golden sparks raining down onto the Caster below. She could only watch as a beam no larger than a pencil fired off down the passageway, clearing the void in less than a second before the entire subsection exploded in an array of light.

*BOOOOOOOOOOOOM

As dust and rocks rocketed out of the chamber, they rained down around the pair as the Saiyan spoke, "I've had enough of your kind lately, thinking you're above everyone else and that you can do whatever the hell you please because you're strong, I'll tell you something, from someone that isn't even trying to hold you down-."

*CRUNCH

Her figure sunk into the very Earth, with jagged rocks stabbing into the Servant's form on all sides as the pressure only increased by the second, with every fiber of her body on the verge of tearing apart, his ferocious voice ringing out all the while, "You're going to go upstairs, live with the rest of us, and leave everyone alone, feel free to hate me all you want, it doesn't matter, or, I kill you right here and now, and you can go back to whatever hole you crawled out of because whether or not you leave this room means nothing to me."

The hybrid's senses tingled as the woman tried to mutter a foreign language; feeling a pressure building around them, he instinctively slammed her head into the ground, feeling her skull beginning to buckle as the energy dissipated with her cries, "Y...YIELD..." the force dropped in a second as she lay there, watching as his hand lit up for a brief moment as the familiar twinge of a contract burned into his seals as she mumbled, "I yield..."

With a forced smile of his own, the halfling relented, gently patting the Servant's torn shoulder as he stood upright, with her laying face down within the jagged tomb of his creation, "I'm glad we came to an understanding, but just so you know-" he slowly began a march toward the exit, knowing that the message was clear, but deciding to speak anyways, "Try anything again, and I won't stop next time."

Caster lay there, gasping for breath as a sudden influx of energy flowed through her at once from her new Master, with every wound along her body healing in rapid succession, the pain dwindling into near nothing in seconds. She grunted, pushing herself up as her clothes mended themselves in a burst of purple flame, her hidden eyes flickering in a boundless rage, swearing vengeance on yet another man who humiliated her in such an uncouth fashion, speaking with a rasp as she stumbled to her feet, "What sort of beast are you?"

Trunks' stride refused to relent, his mind wandering toward his father, wondering if that was the right thing to do, yet somehow knowing the man would approve his decision. It wasn't something the warrior wanted to do, but if he was going to have to work with people like her, there needed to be a line in the sand on what was and wasn't acceptable; if they ruled by strength, then so would he. Looking forward, the swordsman only muttered, "Your new Master, apparently."

He left her like that, knowing that the message had gotten through.

...

Hours Later

Snow pelted across the antarctic wastes, traversed by only a handful of people throughout the continent's long, isolated existence, a place not meant for mankind, yet through sheer grit and more funding than any could comprehend, Chaldea remained a beacon in an otherwise uninhabitable land. Small flakes danced along the glass window panes strewn along the outer edges of the facility, kept from coating over entirely through some unseen heating process or other, with strands of liquid falling to the wayside mere moments after impact.

Trunks idly watched the process happening again and again; his feet kicked up as he sat on the windowsill, not entirely sure what to do with himself, just staring at his own reflection and the distant hills that seemed to go on forever in each direction. It's strange; the Saiyan found himself in a literal world of opportunity; there was a facility to explore, people to meet, and things to do besides grumble about how awful his Earth was, yet he didn't feel like doing any of that.

He had spent his entire life alone, traveling through what was left of his Earth, whether it was the burned-out cities or the nearly empty countryside; it was a planet filled with plants, animals, and even the birds were untouched, just everything humanity had ever done or made was nothing more than cinders, his most fond memories were those camping trips Gohan would take him on in the distant woods, just them, where things made sense, and his idol could answer any question the boy threw at him with ease. The man believed in him without question, always claiming that the son of Vegeta would be the one to bring peace to their world, he never knew why, but it helped to have someone around.

Sure, Trunks had his mom to answer some questions here and there. Still, she hardly knew anything about the Saiyans or his own father even, hell, most of what he learned came from secondhand stories about her trips with Goku, of all people, who everything seemed to rely on. But, because of the time traveler's meddling, now things fell on the younger version of his mentor, Gohan, the eleven-year-old protector of Earth. He winced at the thought, lightly slamming his head back onto the cold metal plating adorning the wall, letting the cool temperature overwhelm him, knowing he messed up again.

*Tap-Tap-Tap

The Saiyan glanced toward a looming sliding door as a pair of footsteps approached, opening with an audible hiss as its computerized systems recognized motion before their scanners. His gaze was immediately met by a burning pair of red eyes atop a distinctive layer of blue on all sides, and with a casual salute, the Celt spoke, "Figures you'd be out here-" he gave a mocking grin, looking away for a moment, "You're a moody little bastard aren't you?"

Trunks chose to ignore the comment, giving the Servant a nod and a casual wave of a hand from his perch, "Cú, how'd that hunt of yours go?"

The Lancer-class groaned, kicking the ground in defeat as his boots bounced off the immaculately clean tile, "Ah, little thing got into a vent, and that assistant of yours pulled me out when I tried climbing in after him-" with a casual swipe of a hand, literal pounds of dust billowed off the man's azure mop of hair, "good to know she has some backbone at least."

Trunks chuckled at that, idly scooting back as he placed a foot on the ground, leaning against his resting knee, "Mash is just new to this sort of thing; she'll find her way eventually."

The spearman hummed, approaching and taking a leaning stance on the wall across from the halfling; glancing out the window, the man asked, "You so sure?... I've never seen a case like hers; your average Heroic Spirit instinctively knows their phantasm from the moment we're brought into existence, but she just doesn't."

Trunks shrugged it off with a sigh, observing his reflecting eyes as they briefly flashed a brilliant green before settling down once again, "For the longest time, I had the wrong idea about what it really meant to get stronger; I thought that if you just trained hard enough, that you would get it someday-" he shook his head in denial, "but that's never how it works."

Cú glanced at the teen from the corner of his eye, his expression stoic as he crossed his arms in idle thought, "It helps to have great teachers; hell, I had more than my share, but it's up to the student at the end of the day, to have the will and the talent to keep pushing forward, do you think a timid girl like that has it in her?"

The halfling raised a fist, clenching it as he felt his energy surging from within, "There are different ways of getting power, some people are just born it, and others get it through sheer effort, but there comes a level where you just can't go any higher, where progress slows, and you're stuck feeling helpless, wondering if this is the best you can do."

Images burned through the Saiyan's mind of that fateful day in the streets of Pepper Town, those burning feelings within his heart, the despair, grief, loss, and inevitably leading to an untapped mountain of rage, just waiting to come crashing through his limits at the cost of everything dear to him. He glanced toward the Servant, "That's when you train to take the big leap, so you're ready to rise and meet the next challenge; actual power comes in response to a need, a drive to protect the people and things you hold closest to your heart, not just because you want to have more of it."

Hearing the howling winds blowing beyond the protective confines of Chaldea, the fighter continued, "Mash might not have everything together, but she dives headfirst into a fight to protect the place she calls home...-" he paused a moment, "it reminds me of someone that I used to know, just as shy and timid, but always there to try anyways, and if she's anything like him, then who knows how far she'll go when this place needs her."

The Lancer idly tapped a foot on the ground as he listened, slowly turning to face his new Master, "It's always possible, but you only really see what someone is made of in the moment; I don't know, I was born with talent, but if it wasn't for a few guiding hands here and there I wouldn't be half the man I am now, but it's not that simple-" he scratched a finger along the side of his face, "How about you? Where'd you get those freaky talents of yours?"

The hybrid looked down, studying his boots for a moment in thought before shrugging, "I guess I'm both in a way; my dad comes from a line of...famous martial artists, so everyone just expected I'd be born strong too...and I was."

Trunks smirked at an old thought, "I figured out how to fly when I was six...practically gave my mom a heart attack; she never wanted me to train or do anything my dad did; she always said I was too young."

Cú gave the hybrid a strange look; his red eyes narrowed just a bit, "Flying runs in your family? What is your dad, a damn bird?" Running a hand through his tied-up blue locks, the man shrugged, "Feh, not like I have much room to judge; being born different is a blessing and a hell, not like my old man gave me more than the strength to do as I pleased."

The Irishman sighed, turning his head in disbelief, "Heh, my family couldn't get rid of me soon enough; since day one, it was always about me being a child of destiny, sending me off with my uncle to fight for an army in Ulster; I went along with it, but-" his grin grew a bit, "Honestly? I just wanted to fish and do whatever I felt like, and still do; mixing a real battle with a relaxing day off beats any of the crap they have in this metal box."

The Saiyan dug deep into his thoughts, trying to think of a saying his mom had offhand mentioned about one of her stories; he leaned back against the metal framing, gazing toward the structural supports above, "Work hard, study well, and eat and sleep plenty. That is the Turtle Hermit way."

Cú gave a nod of approval, looking toward the skies above, yet not seeing a thing through the looming cloud fronts swirling overhead, "Truer words have never been spoken-" he blew air through his lips in mild annoyance, "I don't care if the system explains how all this modern stuff works a million times over, it's just not real, where are the boundless grasslands of Éirinn in a barren place like this? There's nowhere I can tuck away and fish my woes away, you know?"

The Sayian crossed his arms in idle thought, leaning against the glass as it sent cold chills through his system, "Yeah, I got used to it after a while, but it's all so constraining." he idly cracked his knuckles with a stretch, raising his hands to the sky, "You ever try ice fishing?"

The Lancer's eyes lit up for a moment as though a lightbulb had gone off in his head; he gripped a fist, studying the ground, running through what could only be advanced mathematical calculations in his mind, looking toward his new Master with a flicker of hope in his gaze, "...could you blast a hole in the ice?"

Trunks tapped a foot against the glass, ignoring the audible thump on impact, giving the Servant a nod, "Well, I could, but we're gonna have to talk business first-" driven by the insatiable urge of instinct, the Saiyan's focus intensified as he pushed himself upright, "We split whatever you catch, 60/40."

Cú scoffed, standing upright with an audible hiss, his red eyes gleaming in righteous fury, "What kinda bogus deal is that?! I'm the one doing the work; why don't I get more, huh?!"

The halfling began to chuckle, with a business savvy only known to those who have been groomed to inherit a multibillion-dollar conglomeration from a young age, where ruthlessness made the difference between profit and complete bankruptcy. A dark aura surrounded him as he clasped his hands together, wearing an all too confident smirk, "It's just business; without me, you get no hole in the ice and have to eat in the cafeteria like the rest of us."

A tremble ran through the Celt as he stood there, shaking in a silent rage, his teeth exposed for the world to see, "You're...you're bluffing, you'd be stuck in that room with me too...you...you need me!"

Trunks' smile widened as he slowly stood from his perch, meeting the man's stare with a power unlike any other, "I've eaten rations since I was a kid; what's a few more years of that kind of hell?" he took a step forward, "You think you know suffering? Try eating nothing but the same ham and cheese omelet for a month straight, then talk to me about how there's nothing fresh to eat."

He got in the Servant's face, standing mere inches away as power surged from the depths of the warrior's very soul, his blue eyes gleaming beneath the lights, "So go ahead, call my bluff; I have nothing to lose."

Cú shook for the first time in his life, fearing the endless cavern standing before him, driven by some unseen force to do its bidding against even those who would consider the hybrid an acquaintance. He broke, his shoulders dropping as the Celt slumped over, facing the floor in utter defeat; moments passed before he slowly raised a hand toward his oppressor, "Tch, fine...heartless bastard."

The Saiyan nodded in silent approval of his actions, knowing that in the business world, there was no such thing as mercy; Bulma would be proud. He reached out, clasping the Servant's hand as his command seal burned bright for just a moment before dissipating, "I think this is the start of a beautiful trade arrangement."

The Lancer rolled his eyes, letting go with a visible shrug of indifference, "Whatever, we should get moving anyways; your little assistant asked me to bring you to that headquarters of theirs, something about starting a mission, I don't know, she's still uppity about the whole vent thing."

Trunks tilted his head a bit, following the Irishman as he spun on his heels, casually marching back into the depths of the facility, with the Saiyan on his heels, "So, where's she then?"

The man snorted a bit, crossing his arms behind his head as he leaned back with indifference, "Well, someone had to find that pet of hers... that, and she thinks we're gonna eat the rodent if we get our hands on him."

Trunks scoffed, looking away in a slight huff, "Little bastard keeps picking fights he can't win..." soon shaking the thoughts out of his mind, "I was kidding when I said that...mostly."

Cú only responded in a gleeful hum, ignoring the winding metallic walls surrounding the pair on all sides, lost in his own little world of thoughts and random ideas, "I'm keeping my options open if the fishing idea doesn't work out, too bad the thing doesn't have a lot of meat on him, a real hunt is man versus beast, where neither knows who's gonna come out on top, you know?"

As the pair crossed an intersection, Trunks followed the Celt as he took a sudden turn, with the Saiyan remaining in silent thought before speaking, "I guess, but at a certain point, there aren't many animals that can put up a fight, hell, I hunted wolves as a kid, and their bites couldn't even break the skin."

The Servant gave him a side glance from the corner of his eye in a complete deadpan, "Kid, your arm is bigger than that pretty little Director's head; a wolf isn't much of a feat...speaking of,-" he turned a little more, "where is Feisty anyways? I haven't gotten my fill of getting on her nerves yet."

Cú watched as the teen went silent for a moment, just giving the man a slow shake of the head, giving him all the information he needed; the Lancer clicked his tongue in disappointment, "Damn, she was fun too; it's a shame."

Shaking away his brief stupor, Trunks raised a brow at the man as he continued to walk with an ever-confident stride, "Yeah, it is... but you know she clearly hated your guts, right?"

The Lancer barked out a dry laugh to nothing, in particular, kicking a boot against the floor as he disregarded the comment entirely, "Kid, I'm more used to that than you could ever believe, but a guy's gotta try, especially when she's exactly your type."

Glancing at an overhead sign with mild interest, the Servant followed his path with ease despite just arriving in the facility mere hours ago, raising a finger as he marched onward, "Sure, a normal woman might say sweet things and do this and that for you, but let's say you're gone on a campaign for half a year, haven't seen or heard from her all that time, do you really think she'll be all sunshiny when you walk in that door?"

He barked out a laugh at the thought, shaking his finger back in forth in denial, "No, no way, not unless there's something shady going on behind closed doors; a loyal woman would beat you with a spoon for making her worry, that's how you know they care...even if it's a pain sometimes, but that's real love, it hurts like hell, but you can't get enough of it...that and they're fun to tease." He turned a bit, "you got a type?"

Trunks sputtered for a moment, his mouth hanging open as his eyes narrowed, "I...I never really thought about it, I guess?" Looking toward the looming lights above, he continued, "Everything in my life was always so focused on fixing the past; I just kind of ignored everything else...not like there's a lot of girls to talk to in my time anyways."

Cú paused dead in his tracks, spinning on his heels, his eyes wide as though he had heard something sacrilegious, "Seriously, you?... Not even a girlfriend...a...a crush?"

Not understanding the question, the Saiyan crossed his arms in idle thought, "I mean, if I'm being honest, Mash is the first girl I've ever talked to besides my mom."

The color drained from the Lancer's face; his head fell as he approached, dropping a hand onto the hybrid's shoulder as the boy stared at him in confusion, "No women at your age...you poor thing, what kind of God does that to a person?...that's it...I've decided-"

His head shot up, revealing a glistening pair of glowing red eyes filled with an energetic spark of ambition as they shimmered beneath the lights, "I'm taking you under my wing as a protege; I can't see a man dying of thirst next to an ocean, my heart couldn't take it."

Trunks tried to back away, only for the Servant's grip to tighten, with him mumbling, "I...I don't understand-" he stuttered, "didn't you just admit that girls don't like you?"

Letting go, the Servant spun on his heels, placing his hands upon his hips in a heroic stance, facing off against the uncertainty of what was to come with a relentless pride in his own existence, "Your first lesson, when you fail, try and try again my young student!-" as the Lancer energetically approached a looming passageway ahead, with the command room laying just beyond its confines, his image morphed into a familiar bald visage, wearing a distinctive turtle shell within the halfling's mind as he spoke with a booming authority, "If you're to learn well, you must play well, someday you will understand the meaning of these words, I swear upon my pride as a Lancer!"

With a sigh, Trunks passed the Servant, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head, not sure what the man was going on about before the door opened with an audible hiss, revealing a familiar yet different scene as the entrance closed behind him, a voice soon ringing out, "...What's got you so frazzled?"

The hybrid glanced to the side, spotting the new Director leaning on one of the many desks strewn about the room, his hair completely frayed as bags rested just beneath his hardly open eyes, with more mugs and coffee stains on his desk than anyone could fathom. Trunks shrugged, "Just...Cú being Cú-" ignoring the looming fear of what that Servant had in store for him, the Saiyan took a step forward, "How about you, Doctor?... Did you not sleep last night?"

The man let out a tired chuckle, his head drooping a bit before bouncing back up, "Paperwork-paperwork-paperwork, eugh-" he let out a yawn, uncaring for who heard it, "I don't know how the Director managed it all, even with the UN gone, there's still a mountain of damage reports to fill out, too much red tape..."

Lurching back, the Director slammed one of his many mugs in one go, gulping down the bitter concoction as it did little to assuage his exhausted visage. Waving a free hand toward the halfling, he mumbled, "Ah, but enough about me, there's been a change of plans, and we need you mission ready...We'll-eugh" pinching between his eyes the man continued, "We'll do a real one later."

The Director lazily pulled out a swiveling chair, tapping the back of it a few times before the Saiyan got the message, slowly sitting in the seat as the man stumbled in front of him, reaching into his labcoat before pulling out a stethoscope from the depths, placing the two prongs in his ears as he walked around the hybrid, standing before him, putting the diaphragm on the swordsman's chest, listening for a few moments as he tried to suppress another yawn, "Well...it's beating..." he yawned anyways, "you're probably good to g-"

*TSSSS

The door slid open with an audible hiss as a demonic presence made itself known; it didn't give the men a second to react, launching through the passageway at untold speeds, its paws extended like talons, ready to sear the flesh off of any that dared cross its path.

Trunks' senses went wild, driving the warrior to slam a boot into the ground, pushing back as his wheeled vehicle glided toward safer lands; the good Doctor wasn't so lucky, standing upright at just the wrong moment as a ferocious beast collided with his face, his smile ever-present as the Archaman went flying across the room, as a monster bellowed, "DIE FOUUU."

The Director sputtered as literal pounds of dust and hair fell from the monster onto him, coating him in years of unclean waste as he fell into a coughing fit, his attacker appearing as little more than a moving mound of debris; he received no help, only more beatings from the miniature demon rampaging through his command room.

A nearby gasp caught Trunks' attention; he leaned over, looking past the assault going on right in front of him, seeing an exhausted Mash standing in the doorway; with the most casual shrug, he leaned back in his throne, "So where'd you find him?"

The Chaldean let out an audible groan, looking toward the heavens above as though she were more exhausted than words could describe, "He got stuck on a lint trap-" she glanced down, mumbling, "Where is F-Fou no!"

Mash raced across the room, dodging between computer terminals before sliding to a stop, standing before the threshold of Fou's wrongful assault on an innocent man as he lay limp on the ground, having accepted his fate long ago as the punches kept coming. The Kyrielight leveled the softest stare she could muster at her Master, knowing he was at fault for this, "Senpai..."

With an audible groan, the Saiyan relented, slowly standing up, "Ugh, fine...You might wanna get behind me-" And as his Servant stumbled to safety, he reached out, grabbing the literal mountain of dust that was Fou, lifting the beast into the air as debris rained down on the comatose Doctor below. It was a simple idea, flare his ki and blast the particles stuck to the animal away in one clean swoop, but the second his energy made impact, the room exploded in a cloud of ash, blanketing everything in a layer of waste.

The Director lay there, his skin completely coated in soot; raising a tired hand, he rubbed his eyes clean, a pair of glistening green orbs amidst a sea of darkness; he tried to open his mouth to speak, only to taste defeat in the form of dust falling onto his tongue, he sputtered, rolling over, dazed, weak, and exhausted. He looked over, watching as Fou rabidly tried to lunge at its nemesis as the teen held him in the air without so much as a care in the world, and yet, the Doctor could only say, "Okay...who's ready to rayshift?"

...

Minutes later

Trunks looked up, staring at the giant model of Earth looming overhead, his thoughts running wild, knowing that it had the exact same map that he had seen in Da Vinci's workshop...just what did it mean? He knew that the world was subject to intense flux where continents tended to shift over long periods, but where exactly was he on the timeline? That was on the scale of millions of years, and yet these people seemed only marginally behind them on technology; none of it made sense.

The halfling sighed, figuring that this was something he'd need to look into later on when there was time, turning toward the Doctor as the man tapped along a glowing data pad in his hands. "So, how does this whole thing work?"

Lazily tapping on his keys, the Director input a command as several cylindrical objects rose from the floor, their towering forms looming overhead as their doors slid open with a hiss. Glancing toward the swordsman, he raised a finger, "In layman's terms, we're hiding your existence from the World and projecting you into the past; in principle, it's pretty similar to how you travel around, except you're here, but not... at the same time." Seeing the utter confusion on the boy's face, the man shrugged, "It's best not to think too hard about it; just do what you did in the last Singularity, and we'll call it there."

Trunks gave a simple thumbs up, long since used to not understanding scientific mumbo-jumbo when living with the world's greatest inventor, "Got it," his hand turned, pointing behind him toward the looming glass windows above as a figure stared down at him, "and what's Da Vinci doing here?"

The man shrugged, glancing toward the woman leering down at them, "Besides being her usual eccentric self?..." he smiled a bit in the Saiyan's direction, "Ah, she gets like that whenever she finds something interesting; she doesn't mean any harm...-" he looked away, "usually."

At that moment, Mash marched down the stairs with a docile Fou perched atop her shoulder, walking past an array of stations that once held dozens of workers, now left to a skeleton crew to operate, a few familiar faces here and there, some giving the girl a wave while she saw the others giving curious stares at her new Master, she'd have to remember to introduce them at some point. Disregarding the thought, she gently plucked the beast off her shoulder, setting him loose on the ground before approaching the pair, "Mash Kyrielight reporting for duty, ready to deploy when you are, Senpai."

Trunks tried to open his mouth to question just what the inventor was interested in but soon deflated; pushing the matter aside, he gave the girl a nod, approaching one of the pods strewn about the room, looking into its claustrophobic confines with interest, raising a hand to feel the smooth material lining its surface, he took a slow step in, leaning back into the device, facing the outside world as the Director tapped a few keys on his console, with a sliding glass door rising over the warrior.

He stood there in silence for a moment, his enhanced senses picking up a few distinct words from the coffin's muffled confines, a destination...a place called France, yet another location the Saiyan couldn't define the year 1431 A.D...none of this made sense to the time traveler, but he decided to take a page from his mentor and accept it for what it was.

Feeling a sudden moisture, Trunks glanced down, watching as a strange green liquid began to fill the chamber; peeking out, he could see Mash in her pod giving him a gentle wave before being submerged entirely, and so, despite his apprehensions, the hybrid let the strange substance overwhelm his person as the world went dark.

*FWING

Trunks couldn't quite describe the sensations he endured at that moment, like his entire body was being tossed and turned in a storm, yet not moving at all, a complete contrast of whirling motion as the darkness burned away, replaced by an ethereal blue light spiraling around him, with shooting tendrils of energy bouncing off of his skin as he approached a distant horizon, only to be overwhelmed by a bright flash of pure white.

*WOOSH

The Saiyan simply drifted before a rush of sensations rushed into him anew, feeling a thunderous updraft flowing through his tied purple locks; his blue eyes shot open to the world once again, no longer in the metallic confines of Chaldea, but instead dropping from the skies themselves over an expansive green landscape.

Trunks allowed the sensations to wash over him; even as the ground drew closer by the second, none of it mattered; the halfling had been flying his entire life, and a fear of heights was practically impossible for the time traveler when even the most brutal impact from the upper atmosphere would do little more than scratch him, but a cry from above knocked the fighter out of his stupor.

Glancing up, he spotted Mash flailing about in her armor as she helplessly crashed downward, and with a burst of ki, the swordsman's fall stopped entirely as he hovered there, holding out his arms as the armored Chaldean slammed into his waiting palms as she stared at him in a daze, "You good?"

Mash stared at him for a brief moment, a creeping blush driving its way onto her face as she looked away before realization set in; she looked at her empty hands in confusion, "Senpai, have you seen my-"

"KYU FOUUUU"

Trunks only had a second to glance up, his eyes widening in shock as Fou stood atop a spinning metal disk, piloting his craft with a rage directed solely toward the halfling as Mash's shield collided into his skull, the sudden force rocketing the pair downward as spittle flew from his mouth, he spun uncontrollably, only able to pull the Servant close as his back faced the rapidly approaching ground below.

*BOOOM

The Saiyan tore through the Earth on impact, his body leaving a trench in its wake as his momentum slowed against the soft dirt, with him dragging to a complete stop as he lay there for a moment, with the world spinning uncontrollably, and the Chaldean's shield impacting nearby, with a jutting arm slammed into the land like an anchor, Fou lept from his vehicle with a prideful smirk, knowing he had wo-

A hand shot out from the ground, spraying a fine array of mud and grass across the battlefield, clenching around the creature's soft fur as it trembled in terror. Trunks raised Fou overhead, his blue eyes shifting into a vibrant green, "Have a nice walk back." and with a flick of a wrist, the tiny creature went sailing off into the distance, screaming its name all the while.

"FOOOOOOOooooouu-"

*Twinkle

Trunks slumped back into his hole, uncaring that his Servant was sprawled out on top of him as he stared up at the blue sky above, "Mash...what happened to Fou in those vents?"

The Chaldean groaned as she lay there, her face burning in embarrassment as she put a hand on the hybrid's chest, pushing off of him as she sat on higher ground, catching herself as her heart stopped thumping, "He...He tried to get out of one of the dryers and..." she fell back, looking up at a passing set of clouds, "It was still on...and Fou got stuck in the lint catcher..."

Mash wiped a gloved hand along her pale face, flicking off layers of dirt from her skin with an audible sigh, "Senpai, did you really have to throw him?"

In a burst of energy, the Saiyan levitated upward, his ki blasting every spec of dust off of him, soon landing on his feet, arms crossed as he faced his ally, cracking his neck as a stiff feeling overcame the warrior while he glanced at her shield, still embedded into the ground. "You're still learning, so I'll give you a piece of advice, don't forgive and forget, if someone wrongs you, respond in force, or they'll just keep doing it."

Mash's violet eyes widened a bit as her Master held out a hand, and with a sigh, she took it, getting pulled up as if she weighed little more than a feather; shaking off the disorientation approached her fallen phantasm, "But Fou doesn't mean it, he usually isn't like this with people."

Trunks disregarded the comment entirely, knowing full well what that little rat was capable of, "If he's smart enough to talk, then he's smart enough to know actions have consequences; I'll believe you when he stops trying to fight me every five seconds."

Turning, she scanned the horizon, squinting beneath the open sunlight above as she tried to peer across miles and miles of rolling green plains as far as the eye could see, "Senpai, you can't just leave him alone in the middle of the Hundred Years War, he could get hurt or..." she pinched between her eyes, "...You don't know what I'm talking about, do you?"

The Saiyan shrugged off the question entirely, casually adjusting his sword strap back into place, "Not a clue Mash, not like everything needs to make sense-" glancing toward where the Chaldean was looking, his focus drifted upward, pointing a finger toward a darkened blip, "Think about it, we never question why dragons still exist... not since we drove them to the countryside, but there they are flying around."

*RRRRRRRRRR

"THE WHAT!?"

The Director's blue avatar fazed into existence beside Mash, roaring out in disbelief as the girl jumped back with a squeak; the man paid her no mind, seemingly staring down at his monitor as he watched the winged beasts soaring through the skies. While the Chaldeans needed precise instruments to scan the creatures, the Saiyan idly watched their scaled forms gliding through the winds toward some distant target; he raised a brow at the pair's reaction, "You act like you haven't seen a dragon before... Not even a dinosaur?"

The Doctor slowly turned toward the teen, a look of complete disbelief on his face as he ran a hand through his fluffed locks, "Y-...You've seen a dragon before?... Seriously?"

Trunks tilted his head, not understanding what the problem was, utterly ignorant of the utter bafflement on his allies faces, "I mean, yeah, my teacher even had one as a pet growing up, named him Icarus-" he mumbled, "never stopped talking about him either."

Romani took a breath, leaning back as he reached out, pulling a steaming cup of coffee into frame as he took a massive gulp, exhaling a small cloud of steam, "I...I'm not even going to open that can of worms right now," he shook his head as a rush of bitterness coursed through him, "I was going to tell you we're already looking into the ring of light in the sky, but it might do you some good to see where those things are flying off to, hm?"

The halfling, completely ignoring the defeat in the man's voice, glanced upward, his blue eyes widening in mild interest as he studied a massive beam of ethereal light traversing the skies for as far as the eye could see, jutting through layers of clouds as it pierced through everything in its path, he shrugged it off, figuring if push came to shove, he could just fly into the stratosphere and blast it apart.

The swordsman gave the Doctor a nod, turning toward his "Servant" as the girl idly watched the distant blips against the harsh light from above, "Mash-" as she turned, he continued, raising two fingers, "two choices, either I carry you, or you ride on my back, cause I'm not walking that far."

A moment passed before the girl slumped over, her shield lightly crashing into the ground below, "Senpai...you can't seriously be that lazy, right?"

The Doctor jutted in, his apparition shaking his head in disapproval, "No, he's right, Mash; if you two ran, we face the risk of missing whatever it is those things are up to; we can't tie ourselves up, and expect the best results."

The Chaldean nodded, watching as her Master lazily hovered in the air, rotating until he was laying flat in the air, arms stretched out, the sight reminding her of a certain comic book character she couldn't get enough of as he flew through the streets of Metropolis. She let her angst drop a bit and gave a gentle smile, "...shotgun," before hopping onto the Saiyan's back, the pair rocketing off into the skies above.

A few moments passed before an unbridled nausea came to an abrupt stop, with the pair leveling out as cloud fronts drifted around them; Mash slowly opened her eyes to the world once again, pushing aside the shifting feeling in her stomach as she observed the scenery below. It was an endless sea of green, with forests looming in the distance adorned with passageways of open fields for the defender to gaze upon for an eternity.

Mash had grown up with a strict program, instilling decades of information into her mind alongside a general fascination for all things great in the world, driving her forward. Chaldea would always be the girl's home, every memory of hers traced back to its winding halls in some way, shape, or form, but its grey confines felt like a trap sometimes, where her only escape was through stories both real and not. But for the first time in the Chaldean's life, there was an image to go along with the passing thoughts of other lives from the boundless edges of the Loire Valley to the looming rivers almost out of sight, and yet...

Her gaze shifted, reaching out to graze a finger against the billowing white aura carrying her Master forward through the skies before coming to a pause, "...Senpai, have you really seen a dragon before?"

Trunks gave a slight nod as cold winds blasted around the pair in a deluge, "They're a lot easier to hunt than they are to train; my mentor had known Icarus since both were really young, so they had sort of a pack bond going on."

Mash stared down, her inner geek rushing its way to the surface, ignoring the impossibility of the entire situation; whether it was them flying through the atmosphere or stories about turning a mythical creature into a pet, she paid no mind, with a sparkle in her eyes growing by the second, "Did you ever meet him? What is it like?"

The Saiyan took a sudden turn, following the trailing energy signatures as he hummed in thought, glancing upward, meeting the Chaldean's excited stare as she leaned overhead, "A few times, he still lives on Mount Paozu in a cave somewhere; it was a lot easier to do stuff with him back when he was small, you know, like dancing," Trunks clicked his tongue, "nowadays he's twenty-something feet tall."

Trunks felt a pressure on his back as Mash passively tried to push more information out of him; he sighed with a slight smile at the girl's child-like wonder, "I mean, Icarus is sort of what you'd expect for a dragon; you know? Big and purple, giant pair of wings and bright green eyes, but he's not really a pet; he's more like a friend that does his own thing most of the time, then spends the night relaxing with whoever decided to pay him a visit."

The Kyrielight glanced back and forth, looking for a notebook before slumping over in realization that she had left it back in the facility...wait, she stopped, raising leaning a little further forward to see her Senpai's expressions, "Hold on, you dance?"

The halfling scoffed at the accusation, rubbing a finger along his face in mild embarrassment as an old memory surfaced, "No...it's more...you know what?" he looked away in a huff, "I don't want to talk about it."

Mash placed a hand on his back as she leaned forward, "Oh come on, Senpai...please?"Getting no response, she rolled her eyes at how stubborn he was being about this, "I promise I won't laugh."

Trunks crossed his arms in a huff, his face contorted as he tried to retain his pride, but another plead from the Servant broke his guard as he grumbled, "Fine...we were in his cave, and I had just learned how to fly so I was burned out by the time we got there and decided to take a nap in his nest." His face burned as he continued, "I'm laying there, dead asleep, and my mentor decided to start whistling; now, I didn't know this until he did it, but Icarus was trained to dance whenever someone did that."

His face burned hotter despite the chilled temperatures of the upper atmosphere, his blue eyes looking anywhere except toward Mash, "...Well, Icarus decided that he wanted a partner, so-" Trunks bristled as he heard a giggle from above, "he scoops me up and next thing I know, he's got me in a deadlock slow dancing around the cave while my teacher is just laughing at me the entire time...longest five minutes of my entire life."

Mash tried to hold a hand over her mouth, picturing her stoic Senpai getting thrown around like a ragdoll as he tangoed with a living dragon, failing to suppress another giggle before the dam broke, with her raising a hand as she tried to stop herself, "I...I'm sorry, I just...why didn't you make him stop?"

Trunks huffed, crossing his arms in annoyance, "I don't know...I didn't want to hurt the guy; it's not like he meant anything by it-" he deflated a bit, "Dragons don't trust easily, and I didn't want to ruin what Gohan had with him...stop smiling."

Mash shook her head at how easy it was to embarrass her new Master over something so minor; idly deciding to file his mentor's name away for later, she hesitantly patted him on the back, her smile persisting, "Oh, it's not THAT bad, Senpai." The Chaldean looked over the horizon at a looming stone structure as it slowly came into view, "It's sweet that you care about him that much."

Trunks went quiet; his limited pride shattered in a way the Saiyan could only imagine his father would understand; he looked out in indignance, staring straight down and away from his ally, and as they shot toward their destination, he was only able to mutter, "...whatever."

...

Meanwhile

*Drip-Drop...Drip-Drop

An immaculate banner waved against the evening breeze, its white cloth interwoven with golden threads as a shimmering symbol of the fleur de lis emblazoned upon its surface, the flowing material a stark contrast to the surrounding devastation, a landscape marred by crevices torn into the Earth, with the marks of talons dragging on as far as the eye could see.

An armored figure stood on shaking legs, panting away their exhaustion yet refusing to budge, all the same, driven forward by a devoted urge to protect even those who despised their very existence; such was the fate of the firm believer, enduring blow after blow knowing that their enemies know not what they do. They leaned forward, their polearm jutting into the mud below as blood trickled down its shining staff, a mixture of both their own and of those who dared prey upon the weak.

A pair of amethyst-like eyes stared down at the ground below, feeling the clinking of their tattered armor, a battle dress worn on the frontlines of countless battles, remaining firm against impossible odds, driven forward by a faith more pure than any could comprehend, following set of instructions passed down by the Almighty. They raised a metal gauntlet, gripping a fist against their rightful tool of war; though they never quite enjoyed the premise of battle, it was a tragic necessity brought upon by the actions of the depraved against the innocent souls of the world.

Though this should be a trifling matter, the Servant felt weakened beyond reprieve, deprived of their connection to the Throne of Heroes, neither knowing their place or purpose in this all too familiar land; they chose to do as they had always done, push onwards through trial and tribulation, retreat was no option in the face of adversity, for the snarling beast ahead would only turn its sights upon those who stood a far lesser chance at survival.

A faint smile grew upon the Saint's features as she heard the distant cries from the looming stronghold mere feet behind her, a meddling of battered stones and broken soldiers composing its interior, hurling insults despite her intentions, even as she fought for their very lives, they chanted against her, with words of "witch" and "false prophet," bouncing off her with a pained acceptance...no matter, for the Servant would care and love for her people as she always had.

A snarl drew her gaze upward as a scaled beast batted its crooked wings in her direction, its extended jaw barring an array of sharpened fangs all too willing to shred the Heroic Spirit to pieces; the creature was weakened, its entrails pierced through her faith-driven strikes, piercing its armored hide...though the Saint stood much the same, with winding gashes along her person, their duel becoming one of attrition, though something told the young woman that this next encounter would snuff the light of one of them forever more, a pity, but one which must occur.

As the icon raised her polearm once more, her right leg drifted backward, tearing its way through broken soil as she readied herself to strike once more...A sudden tingle ran up her back as a small figure gently hopped its way along her flowing blonde locks, tied together like a veritable stairway upward; a fluffy face soon appeared beside her, perched atop the woman's shoulder as it nuzzled against her, bringing a slight smile to her face. "You have my thanks, little one, for this Saint would be lost were it not for your support in my time of need."

"Fou!"

The adorable animal had fallen from the sky mere moments before the confrontation began, standing by her side all the while despite their imminent destruction...No, this would not be where they fell, for the word of the Lord guided them to meet in this place, and she as his messenger, Jeanne d'Arc would conquer this opponent in his name. And as the dragon brought about from the pits of hell prepared to lunge, she did the same, launching into a sprint across a charred landscape, uncaring for the hatred of those around her; the icon slid to a stop, screaming as she-

*FWOOSH

One moment, the winged beast was surging downward, its bloodied jaws opened to crush the Servant in an instant as she raised her banner with pride, its jagged, spear-like edge aiming for its blackened heart, and the next...purple...a figure materialized in front of the dangerous creature, and with the simple push of a hand, the wyvern's jagged maw slammed shut as it stopped in place, held by an invisible force as it struggled against its new foe, a voice ringing out, "Hey Mash, this one's a lot smaller than what I was talking about."

Hearing a sudden impact behind herself, the Servant spun on her heels as waves of dust and mud burst away from a small crater, revealing a girl not too far from the icon's own age, carrying a gargantuan shield as her purple eyes stared on in trepidation, "Senpai, it doesn't look very friendly..."

Turning back, the Saint watched as the creature lashed out, its jagged talons striking out against its oppressor again and again, only to make no headway as its body refused to move an inch forward, with each attack meeting air as it growled in a fury. Jeanne tried to cry out, to warn these passersby of just how many of her countrymen had fallen to these monsters before the boy cut her thoughts off entirely with a disregarding shrug as a luminous glow erupted from his outstretched palm, growing more vibrant and hot by the second as he muttered, "Well, this one's feral."

*BOOOOOOM

An explosion rang out as a burst of yellow light erupted from the teen's hand, the force crashing through the wyvern's skull as it vaporized on impact, with the energy rocketing through its body and into the upper atmosphere, leaving a smoking and charred corpse as the dragon's remains slumped over in a heap, dead.

A silence overcame the Servant as the boy turned around, completely disregarding her existence as his blue eyes scanned her companion, still perched upon the girl's shoulder, hissing in an instinctive rage, with every strand of fur standing on its back as the swordsman greeted it, "Hey Fou, have a nice flight?"

Jeanne's armor audibly buckled as the beast launched from her shoulder, rocketing through the air as it lunged for the hybrid's exposed face; she could only watch in perplexion as he raised both hands to the sides of his head, the very sight causing the animal to retract and cover its eyes, only earning a grin from the boy who simply dropped his stance, catching Fou in one hand before tossing him to Mash in an underhand throw, who pulled the enraged beast into a bear hug, refusing to let go.

The Servant shook herself from her stupor after a moment, looking toward the swordsman as she sighed away her exhaustion, plating a gentle hand over her heart, giving him a tired smile, "Although your help was unexpected, you have my thanks," glancing toward the keep looming overhead, with leering soldiers peaking out of various holes in the structure, her joy only seemed to grow, "because of this, my countrymen will live another day."

Glancing toward Mash, the icon approached, raising an armored finger toward the beast still trapped within the girl's hold, gently scratching his chin, "You two must be friends of his, no?~" she giggled as the creature nuzzled into her gauntlet, "He advanced alongside me no matter the obstacle, such a feat is worthy of the Lord's praise."

*CLACK

A single impact nearby, a soft thud against the ground as a hardened object bounced along, having missed its target entirely, followed by the crumbling of distant rock as a man rose atop the fortress tower, his armor bent and rendered nearly useless, his pale face half revealed to the elements, exposing an array of gritted teeth as he raised a hand, gripping one of the many stones which made up their compound, practically growing, "don't you dare..." he lunged, throwing the jagged object at the Saint as it landed nearby, "SPEAK HIS NAME!"

*CLACK

A silence followed as the Saint stood there, staring up at the man as more rose around him, taking up arms across the towers and walkways, their forms battered and broken, some clearly starved while others stood with missing limbs loosely tied in smeared bandages, each brandishing a piece of their devastated stronghold as they launched projectiles at the Servant, most helplessly landing on the ground nearby, but a few struck true, bouncing off her head and body as she took the blows with stride, ignoring their cries of "demon," and "witch," knowing this is exactly what would happen the moment the threat had come to an end.

Trunks idly watched as the rocks soared through the air, with Mash raising her shield, a makeshift cover over herself and the mysterious Servant, the Saint's eyes met his as she gave a forced smile, "It might be better for us to take this elsewhere, hmm?"

As the pair walked away, the Saiyan remained for a moment, glancing back at the men as they screamed out to the void beyond, completely uncaring for the projectiles as they did little more than bounce off of his skin on impact, just listening to their words, piecing together a story of betrayal, loss, and destruction, with some even having tears streaming down their bloodied faces for those lost to the turmoil. His gaze hardened before he turned back, leaving them there to settle their own affairs...considering he couldn't speak French.

Minutes later, the shouts had grown distant, and the Saiyan had become impatient, stopping in the midst of an open field as the evening sun loomed overhead, its rays shining down upon him as he stared down the Servant, "That's far enough," he glanced over his shoulder, "I can sense they aren't following us, and you have some explaining to do."

Mash sputtered, whirling around as she pattered close to her Master, with Fou still clutched within her grasp, "Senpai...don't be rude, she's trying to help."

He shook off the thought, brushing past the Chaldean, "Mash, if you didn't notice, those people were more terrified of her than the dragon attacking them," the Saiyan gave her a slide glance, "Don't be naive; we have a right to ask what's going on here before following a complete stranger into who knows where."

The Saint gave a slight chuckle facing the ground for a moment, "Oh, if only I were a stranger, we would not need to have this talk at all." With a gentle strike, the icon planted her banner into the Earth, allowing it to stand upright as she strolled forward, hands clasped together, giving the hybrid an understanding smile despite their circumstances, "I do not blame you for your mistrust, as they have done little more than decry me as the witch who burned them and their families to ashes, but I ask that I may speak my part, not as a Servant, but as Jeanne d'Arc, a country girl who died mere days ago."

Trunks could only raise a brow as sparkles rained down around Mash as if she had met some great idol of hers; he studied the Saint's form, from her steel-plated battledress overlaid with cloths of various hues of blue, some adorned with various symbols the fighter had never seen, to the armored torque atop her head before deadpanning, "Sorry, but, never heard of you."

The Saint's smile persisted as she took in the statement, her eyes lightly widening before simmering down into a serene blue, "Maybe that's for the best; as you say in your language, this would be a..." she cupped her chin with a gauntlet, "a fresh start, no? I appeared a mere few hours ago, only to hear that I have done terrible things I have no knowledge of."

Jeanne gracefully reached back, swiping a few loose rocks from her flowing blonde locks with an elegance beholden to those chosen by God, "I try to help where I can, but you've seen how they treat me."

Trunks gave the Servant a knowing nod, his features hardened through a lifetime of warfare and desperation, "You can't hold that sort of thing against them; when people get scared, they don't think; they just act out and come to regret it later...or not at all."

The icon's fingers twitched as she twiddled her thumbs together, trying to resist the instinctive urge to put her hands together for prayer; she gently sighed, giving a sweet smile, "I don't; forgiveness is a much greater blessing than stewing in your own anger, a friend sounds much better than a foe, no?~"

"Fou!"

As the little beast squirmed within Mash's arms, the Saint gently approached, patting him on the head, "Oh, I meant no harm against a cute one like you... call it, hmm-" she tilted her head a bit, raising a finger as realization struck, "a play on words."

The animal's head slumped over in silent defeat as his struggle for freedom came to a standstill, held there by Mash and her accomplice, keeping him away from his rightful target, "Fouuu..."

Her smile dwindled yet remained as she stood upright, glancing toward the distant fortress, appearing as little more than a blur in her enhanced senses, "I cannot give you all many specifics; I am cut off from the Throne and cannot use my abilities as a Ruler, though it matters not, I will tell you what I know in my heart." The believer took a slow breath as her eyes shimmered in utter determination, "If there truly is another Jeanne d'Arc roaming these lands to harm the innocent, then it is my responsibility to put it to an end, for my God and my homeland."

Mash stared at Fou as his tiny blue eyes met hers with a twinkle, yet she paid no mind to his dismay, instead going through an array of thoughts before speaking to no one in particular, "Can there be two identical Servants in a place like this?..." with a grimace she looked up at the pair, "I'll try to get in contact with the Director, he might know something about this."

Jeanne could only watch as the Chaldean wandered off before turning, facing the vast forests on the horizon as the Saiyan remained by her side in silence, "...You must find me mad to consider another of myself in the same time and place."

Trunks slowly crossed his arms, maintaining a weariness despite understanding exactly what the Servant was talking about, soon raising a hand as he spoke, "It's not as bizarre as you think," and as she turned, the Saiyan continued, "Guess we haven't explained ourselves, huh?"

Tapping a foot along the soft grass, he hummed, "I'll give you the long and short of it; something in this time went wrong, and we've been sent back to fix it by the place that girl Mash works for...I'm just another time traveler they met along the way, but before then, I encountered a younger version of myself; we met, interacted, and existed in the same place, so it's not impossible."

The icon took a slow breath as she raised a hand, "Even so, if there were another Jeanne d'Arc, why would she kill King Charles? Why would she slaughter so many in the grand city of Orleans?" the Saint raised a hand to her heart, "I would never do such terrible things, yet all their words point directly toward one truth...that she would."

The Saiyan idly glanced away, watching as Mash spoke to a flickering hologram of the Director, still adorned in layers of soot, before turning back, "Yeah, you might not, but we're fighting people who are messing with time itself, all they would have to do is cause a branch in a different direction, you'd have an entirely different set of circumstances, some people might not exist, while others are so radically different, they might as well be an entirely new person."

Raising her head, Jeanne took a few steps forward, her blue eyes reflecting an inner turmoil that threatened to breach at any moment, "Then how does one respond to this? How am I to react when another who looks to be my twin does all that I would not? Are we not the same by day's end?"

Trunks shook his head in silent denial, "No, you aren't, and you already said it yourself-" He pointed toward the distant fortress laden with cracked and fractured walls and damage without repair, "She needs to be stopped because of what she's done, not because she exists or because it's part of some competition over who's real and who isn't, every timeline is just as valid as another, and you might look alike, but you are not the same person."

The Saiyan raised a hand, exposing his vibrant command seals as they glowed against his tan skin, "You know, I might come from an entirely different time than the people I'm working with, but my morals stayed the same, I saw right fighting against wrong, and I chose to help the people trying to do good for the world, there's nothing else to it, you don't compromise that sort of thing, she needs to be stopped."

Jeanne stared up at the swordsman, her words firm, "I'm aware of what she's done and the level of sin that this nation has experienced by her hand; I'm inclined to join you to put an end to this, but-" her angel-like features contorted into a grimace, "I wish to speak with her, to convince her to stop this bloodshed, and if we truly are the same person, then she would listen, though I hate to ask, I have a request-"

The martyr stood upright, her form fitting for the legendary Maiden of France, a soul dedicated to both her nation and her God as she focused on the halfling, "I will not lie, in my current state, I could hardly put up a fight alone, and this will likely end in yet more turmoil, but I cannot stand aside as she ravages the place I call home, will you help me?"

As she spoke, the time traveler couldn't help but be reminded of his own world, destroyed by a foreign presence as freedom fighters gave everything they had and more to put the Androids down, and while thousands stayed inactive, the brave few kept the struggle going...what kind of coward would it make him to not do the same for someone else?... He sighed, reaching out a hand as he mumbled, "You're not going to make much headway with someone like her, but I guess we'll be along for the ride."

A sparkle overcame the Saint's features as she took his hand in her own, staring down at her armored digits, "Perhaps not, but as a Saint and a person, I simply couldn't live with myself if I did not try to spare her life, but regardless-" she looked up, giving the hybrid an angelic smile as she spoke with a sincerity the warrior had never encountered in his entire life, "Thank you for giving me this chance, Master."

He bristled for a moment before looking away with a prideful huff, refusing to let himself show any weakness, "You don't need to do the whole Master bit with me...just Trunks is fine."

The Servant tilted her head a bit at the name but gave a confirming nod, "Then I'd like it if you just called me Jeanne, the Holy Maiden has only just died after all, and it might be nice to play the wandering farm girl again... for a little while at least."

The hybrid felt a presence approaching, turning away from his newest ally, glancing toward Mash as the Servant marched toward the pair with a pep in her step; he raised a brow, "Any news from the Doctor?"

Mash paled for a moment before deflating, "Ah, asking him to be reliable for once was my fault," she gently kicked a mound of dirt with a boot, sending an array of particles into the air, "he gave me a maybe and hung up."

The Saiyan's eyes narrowed as he tried to glance over her shoulder, not seeing anything in particular, "Then what were you doing over there anyways?"

The Kyrielight raised her shield for a moment as she jostled the device around in the air, "Just setting up a leyline connection Senpai; we happened to be on a hotspot, so I figured we might as well; the other Servants should be able to appear now that we have an established link."

Not understanding a word of what that meant, Trunks chose to trust the Chaldean's word, looking around as if he were expecting someone at any moment, "Uh, do I need to...you know...do something?"

The Servant shook her head as she rested her shield on the ground, leaning atop its surface for a brief moment as she gazed at the surrounding scenery in absent thought, not noticing a swirling mass of color blitzing into existence behind her, "Sadly, they won't be able to appear for longer than a brief skirmish before being sent back to Chaldea," Mash sighed, her gaze drifting up toward the looming halo above, "There just isn't enough mana t-"

She paused in absolute terror, meeting a pair of gleaming red orbs hovering overhead as blue strands of hair drifted with the wind, a man's face resting mere inches from hers as he spoke in a demonic tone, with a confidence only known to one man who defied all logic with his every step, "Yo."

Mash squeaked in terror, instinctively letting go of her shield as she lurched back, slamming her free fist into the unsuspecting Lancer's chin; the man's jaw crashed onto his tongue, sending a spray of blood into the air as he flew through the skies as he came crashing down like a fallen log.

Time slowed as Mash looked at her target and back to her fist again and again, her mind clicking in realization as she saw a familiar azure bodysuit come into frame against the blur of her agitated mind; she stuttered, her entire body shaking in embarrassment, the Servant tried to reach out a hand, sweat pouring down her pale face, "M...Mr. Chulainn!-" she ran toward the man, flickering through apologies, "I'm so so-"

The Lancer raised a hand, stopping the Chaldean dead in her tracks as he leaned back, launching himself off the ground, with the Celt landing on his feet as he gently rubbed a finger across his jaw, "I deserved that...eugh," with the bone audibly clicking together, the Servant rolled his shoulders, "don't ever apologize for a fight you didn't start, Pinkie."

Mash stiffened at the new nickname but decided to push her annoyance to the side, figuring she owed the man something after what just happened, "I thought you'd be on standby..."

He groaned, leaning back in a full stretch as he raised his arms to the skies above, "And miss this view? Do you think I'm gonna sit by and let you lot explore the world while I'm stuck in that cold rock?" The Lancer slowly inhaled a breath, taking it in all at once, "Never happening, and besides-"

The Chulainn casually strolled over, putting a hand on his Master's shoulder as the Saiyan visibly stiffened, "Turns out we can come and go as we please when our Master's a walking battery, not that you mind, right boss-man?"

Trunks paused for a moment, feeling into his reserves of energy, yet hardly noticing a difference, sure there was a drain, but nothing crazier than a light training session; he shrugged, "It's fine, but where are the other tw-..."

*Bump-Bump

A static overtook the Saiyan's senses as he drowned out the Lancer's relentless complaints about a 'red bastard being around somewhere,' instead, the warrior turned toward a looming forest, detecting a sudden influx of higher power levels in the distance...with smaller presences dropping by the second, he took a step forward, then another, having endured this exact hell during the hunt for the Androids, as Cell picked apart entire towns by the day, and they could feel it all, the loss of life, the sudden disappearance of countless souls, he knew what was happening beyond the horizon, his inner rage bubbling toward the surface as the warrior's power level started to rise.

Mash tilted her head at the sudden mood shift, "Senpai?..." Not getting a response, the Servant tried to reach out a hand, "Is everythi-"

*BOOOOOM

The ground exploded as the Saiyan took off into the skies, his form awash in a white aura as he blasted off into the distance, clearing their line of sight in mere seconds, leaving his allies utterly in the dark. Their stupor was broken in mere seconds by Cú as the Lancer barked to the skies above, "OI, GET BACK HERE, I WASN'T DONE TALKING, YOU BROODY BASTARD!' before taking off in a mad dash after the swordsman, his form beginning to dissipate into a swirl of purple flame.

Mash looked to Jeanne, who looked just as confused as her, before turning back toward the rapidly vanishing Irishman, running after him, carrying Fou in tow, "Mr. Chulainn, what's happening?!"

He glanced over his shoulder, a savage grin atop his features as the Celt's red eyes gleamed against the dwindling evening sunlight, "What do you think!? The little runt is trying to steal all the fun for himself!-" Facing the skies, he roared, "I'M YOUR MENTOR, DAMNIT!" leaving the Servant and the Saint entirely in the dust as he vanished.

...

Crashing through the upper atmosphere at breakneck speeds, the Saiyan tore his way through darkened clouds laden with ash and debris, his enhanced senses instinctively picking up traces of char in the air itself. He sped up, rushing toward what would only end in another conflict, not that it mattered; if these were the people causing this level of devastation, then he'd kill them without hesitation.

Trunks was never one to have some elegant plan beforehand, nor was he the type to wait and see how things played out; Piccolo was a tactician, not him; the hybrid hated the idea of letting others suffer just so he could mitigate the risks for himself, instead, the halfling would throw himself into the fray and figure out the rest later. His allies would only slow him down, and there wasn't time to run or do anything else; no, sitting by wasn't an option.

More power levels vanished by the second, with each sensation sending shockwaves of rage through every fiber of his being. In the near distance, a town was in flames, its buildings in glowing against the gradually setting sun as burning embers danced into the skies above; it was a strange sight, with structures composed of cobblestones and hastily compiled logs of various makes and sizes dated and decrepit even by the time traveler's standards.

Trunks' rush came to an abrupt stop as he hovered over the urban landscape, staring down at the billowing smoke as fires tore their way through what was once a center of civilization like any other, now reduced to little more than withering ruins. He could feel a countless number of those winged beasts circling overhead, with some prowling through the streets, their forms laden with the blood of their victims as it dripped from their sharpened jaws.

He flowed with the breeze, drifting overhead as a quiet inferno raged through the city, the silence of the dead a phenomenon the swordsman had become all too familiar with over the years. He ignored the weaker presences, shooting straight toward the center of town, a ring-like circle of buildings, shops, storefronts, and more, now reduced to little more than rubble.

A building stood tall at the center, a tall structure made of the same bricks and stones as the rest of town. Yet, this one was interwoven with stained glass windows adorning the front and sides, depicting images the halfling had no hope of understanding, with a looming cross of polished granite adorning the top. Yet, his focus drifted to a person standing at the threshold of this once holy place, bearing a banner similar yet different to his new ally's, and where one depicted a golden array of shimmering symbols of both pride and place, this one took on a different meaning altogether, a white surface emblazoned with a blackened dragon, a stark contrast to the Saint's heavenly aura.

She faced away from him, yet the Saiyan could discern a set of familiar features, although with stark contrasts, from her bleach blonde hair to the armored battledress coated in darkened hues to the headpiece adorned atop her head.

Trunks slowly landed behind the Servant, knowing fully well that this woman was responsible for all of this; she continued to stare off into the dimmed confines of the building ahead, yet he could see a darkened smile appearing atop her immaculate features, her condescending voice escaping with an undertone of both sheer rage and a distant elegance all the same, "I can't claim many have approached me in such a direct fashion as of yet, but I won't congratulate your bravado, after all-" she slowly turned, with the fallen Saint's armor audibly clinking with each motion until her glowing yellow eyes met the hybrid's in a standoff, looking down upon him in all senses but the actual, "Suicide is a death for cowards."

Trunks met her glare with his own, idly watching as the setting sun's vibrant red rays shined through a glass window, with the colorful aura illuminating the demonic maiden, "So you're the one responsible for all this?" he gripped a fist tight, "if this is the best you can do, I'm not impressed."

She let out a deceptively angelic laugh, raising an armored gauntlet to the surrounding destruction, watching in manic glee as embers fell upon her waiting palm before clenching it shut, "Hmph, none of this is my best; it's simply us enjoying ourselves in our moment of triumph, it is..." her face contorted into a sadistic snarl, "A victory lap, as you English-speakers say."

The Saiyan's heart began to thud faster by the moment, his gaze narrowing, "You call this a victory? What do you gain out of butchering a town of people that did nothing to you!?"

The Servant slammed her polearm into the hardened cobblestone, with cracks spreading around its base as her flag waved in the breeze, "But they have done me wrong, and as we are taught, those who sin must be punished, but now? Not by some God drifting in the skies while his creations suffer, but by my own hand."

As the Servant's glare intensified, the looming church behind her burst into flames, with sparks traveling throughout the stone structure as windows burst open in plumes of putrid ash, the glow illuminating her in a demonic light, "When the Saint Jeanne d'Arc burned alive at the stake, did the people of France cry out in despair as the English destroyed their icon?"

The sinner waved a hand, with more fires bursting around the town, engulfing entire structures in moments in a sea of her own wrath, "No, they stood idly by as my skin melted from my very bones, and I turned to ash before the people who once claimed to love me, the ones who I had sacrificed everything for, yet, when circumstances had flipped, and it was I who needed them, they did nothing!"

She took a step forward, her glare only growing as she saw no trace of fear on her opponent's face as he stood against the billowing flames, "This is divine retribution for what had transpired, all are guilty even if they are not aware, and through this new covenant, France and her people will burn-" she raised a hand, casually snapping her fingers "Though, fools like you will not live to see it."

*CRASH

Glasspanes exploded outward in a shimmering array of colors, raining down on the landscape below as a roar bellowed out from within the cathedral, with flames bursting out of the new gateway alongside a shrouded figure. In less than a second, a wyvern rushed through the smog; its jaws extended as it prepared to tear the halfling to bits.

Trunks simply stared at it, uncaring for the beast as his anger toward the fallen Saint grew and grew. With a growl of his own, a white aura erupted from the halfling as his left leg slid back, tearing through solid rock as his fist shook in unbridled power, he swung, with the warrior's fist meeting solid skin, the creature's form bent and buckled beneath his might, its body exploding into a shower of blood and gore, shooting into the skies and along the storefronts, flowing around the pair in a sea of gore as it vanished into purple flames.

He stood there, glaring at the witch as she stared at him in trepidation, his fist steaming as blood trickled down to the ground below, "So instead of going for the people who did this to you, you do what? Attack the innocent and burn everything they love to the ground because they didn't help you?"

The Servant's yellow eyes gleamed in silent rage as her fists visibly shook, "Fool, there are no innocent souls in this world; whether one calls them a victim is just a matter of perspective, and from mine, they are little more than bugs that need to be crushed for their transgressions."

Trunks scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief, "Your kind always look down on everyone else, thinking you can just do whatever the hell you want because you're strong, no matter how stupid your reasons are; I've seen it my entire life-" he raised a finger, pointing it toward the fallen icon, "you are a child, and I'm going to enjoy showing you just how inferior you are."

Her laugh returned, echoing through the now-empty streets as her melodic voice traveled for what felt like miles, "Make no mistake, a single wyvern is a trifling matter compared to what I'm capable of; you are not worth the air I breathe, you've only proven yourself a worthy meal for my followers."

As the woman spoke, a plethora of chirping cries roared through the night sky, followed by a trail of billowing black smog, as hundreds if not thousands of red-eyed bats tore through the city, swirling around the halfling as he braced himself, only for the veritable tower of creatures to coalesce, their disjointed forms becoming whole beside the fallen Saint as a kneeling figure came into view, their voice escaping with the regal authority befitting a monarch intermingled with utter madness, "A healthy specimen befits a man of my standing, as compared to the half-starved malefactors you've been feeding me, ruler."

The storm of energy subsided, revealing a man with skin paler than the moon itself, his flowing white locks an almost perfect match, their tone a complete contrast to the darkened cloak surrounding his form, with trickles of blood leaking off the Servant's sharpened nails, he raised a hand high, allowing the fluids to trickle onto his waiting tongue.

She snorted as her yellow eyes shifted toward the vampiric Servant, "Blame the good King for letting his people fall into such a state, or simply die of thirst-" the sinner's tone darkened, "But you will show me the respect I deserve, Lancer, unless you wish for Assassin to take your place."

*BOOM

A distant storefront burst open, the door falling off its hinges as a pair of heels clicked along the tattered streets as a woman wearing what had to be the most revealing thing the Saiyan had ever seen, what the teen could only describe as a dress without a front adorned with a metal cage, dragging a gradually shriveling corpse of a man along with her, soon yanking her fangs out of his neck before dropping the withered carcass to the side, with a feminine yet all too predatory voice ringing out, "I would have to decline, my dear Maiden; I seek beauty, not whatever taint emanates from that beast, I can sense his foul taste from here."

With a sudden glow from the halfling's command seal, a familiar visage burned into existence in a burst of purple flame, beginning with a distinctive set of white hair, trickling down to the same red jacket and waistcoat as always, speaking with the same neutrality the man consistently held, "Straight into the hornets nest with you, hm? I'm beginning to think you actively seek conflict."

Trunks' gaze steadied, turning back to face the fallen Saint and her vampiric ally as he went back to back with his own, "These people don't seem the type to want a fair fight; think you can keep an eye on that one with the weird doll, Archer?"

With a slight huff, the Servant's hands were engulfed in a sea crackling electricity as his opposing blades materialized, their black and white forms holding firm against the dwindling sunlight above, "Yeah...if I don't strangle the blue one first."

*SCHWING

Bursting into existence beside the man, the Celtic Lancer stood tall, his inherited phantasm spinning within his grasp as his right boot slid back along the ground, one arm jutting forward while the other pushed back along his spear's metallic red confines, a snarl present on his face, "Up yours too, red-" he glanced over his shoulder at his new Master, his grimace shifting into a grin, "Go wild, boss-man...but first, I have your next lesson ready."

Trunks lowered his stance, his fists tightening as his blue eyes shimmered against the glow of the surrounding fires, knowing this conversation was going nowhere important, "and what's that?"

The azure spearman's grin grew, "Heed these words, knowing the difference between feisty and batshit crazy is the difference between life and death, and that Saint-" he tilted his head back, "is out of her mind."

The fallen icon barked out a laugh, grabbing her polearm with her left, spinning the tool of war within her grasp, its darkened flag flowing with the motion as the black dragon's wings seemed to flutter with each gust of wind; the device soon resting against her armored shoulder. "You expect a mere human to fight against a Servant? Perhaps I'll enjoy this show more than I sh-"

Trunks gave the ruler no quarter, his entire body retracting as a vein pulsated against his forehead, a white aura exploding around his form as the Earth began to shake and crack beneath him with jagged rocks shooting into the air, breaking apart into dust as it swirled around him in a storm of debris, his blue eyes gleaming with rage as power surged into his limbs.

*BOOM

His entire form flickered out of sight, dispersing into mere afterimages of fading black lines; the fallen Saint could hardly react before the Sayian reappeared in front of her, hovering in the air as he spun, his right leg lashing out, tearing a screeching hole through the atmosphere itself as his knee bent, his boot slamming into the broken icon's pale face. Bones shattered on impact as blood spewed like a torrent from her broken nose, the sheer force rocketing the Servant back toward the cathedral as her body slammed at untold speeds straight through the stone exterior and into the supporting pillars within, a massive cloud of dust following in her wake.

*BOOM-BOOM-BOOM

Carried by his momentum, Trunks' hand exploded into a vibrant light as he pushed forward, slamming into the ground with a massive crash; spinning on his heels, the energy burst to life as a crackling sphere of unstable yellow energy, the hybrid roared as he let it fly, with the orb burning through the air, it collided with the building, overwhelming its lower portion in a colossal explosion as the upper floors came crashing down on top of the fallen ruler's form, burying her beneath several tons of broken rock, wood, and glass.

*RRRRRRRRRRR

As dust surged across the broken urban landscape, the Saiyan stood there, slowly turning toward the enraged Lancer as the artificial wind blew through his tied-up purple locks, letting out a steady exhale as the battered structure loomed behind his person, "Alright, let's go." The halfling prepared to dive into the fray, but a voice soon cut him off from the distance.

"Senpai!"

"Fou Fou!"

The halfling ignored the various insults and slurs thrown his way by the animal, instead glancing across the open landscape, spotting Mash huffing and puffing, standing in the fallen remains of one of the many houses scattered throughout the area, her saintly counterpart not far behind, Trunks gave the demihuman a slight nod but signaled her to stay where she was with the wave of a hand, his focus returning to the looming threat ahead as more energy blasted off him.

The maddened Servant drifted back, his golden eyes widening as he watched the rubble come to a standstill, feeling his ruler trapped beneath the surface, his thirst-driven mind all too capable of realizing how fast that attack was, almost beyond comprehension, the Lancer stood upright, the tip of his spear, a mangled mess of black and white components interlinked, forming a strange bond between purity and corruption, touching the floor with an audible scrape, he shook his concerns away in an instant, overwhelmed by his instinctive urges, "...no grandiose speech for a vampire like myself? Aren't I meant to see the error of my ways, to admit that I have sinned?

Trunks stood there, at the ready, yet he remained unmoving, his focus entirely on his target, but spoke out to another, "Mash, consider this another piece of advice." As the girl jolted to attention, he continued, his tone a mixture of both utter anger and gravity, "You're a trusting person, and while that's not a bad thing, you need to understand that some people just don't deserve redemption."

The Saiyan stared into the man's maddened eyes, without fear, nor caution driving him forward, only a sense of duty that few could fathom, "I've seen what you've done to this town, and maybe someone else would try to talk you out of it, but not me-" he gritted his teeth, exposing his own fangs to the vampire's fascination, "I'm gonna kill you, right here, right now."

The Servant grinned, his fangs barred as he threw his spear to the side, the device audibly clanking as his dagger-like nails extended, driven to near insanity by his madness; appearing as a ravenous beast, he growled, "Many have tried, and each ultimately succumbed to their own mortality, such is the fate of all who incur my displeasure-" he raised his left hand extended as his right retracted as a black smoke erupted across his body, "I'll drink what remains of you from a puddle, human."

Two opponents stood off, though neither could say they knew one another; the unlikely pair had far more in common than any could believe, though their existences stood in a complete contrast. Where both were descended from royal blood, only one would ever truly ascend the throne, yet neither could call themselves human all the same, both marred by an external pressure both revered and unknown, relegated to the lands of historical and scientific fiction. Yet where one fell to these foreign temptations and a boundless lust for the pleasures they entailed, the other retained their composure, trying to carve their own path in life despite their circumstances. An evening breeze billowed over them as the sun finally set beneath the horizon, their shadows extending before disappearing entirely.

*BOOM

The pair rocketed toward each other; with the Servant lunging for an overhead slash, the Saiyan slammed into the ground, his hands shooting up as they locked against his foe's in a deadlock. Trunks growled as the man's nails tore into his skin, putting more and more pressure into his onslaught as the ground began to crack and break beneath him, with the Wallacian meeting him tit for tat, the resulting shockwaves crashing through the air, tearing through the burned out remains of what was once a vibrant city like any other, now desecrated and destroyed.

*CRACK

The vampire's bones began to splinter and give way as the halfling began to overwhelm him, pushing the impaler back as his boots tore a trench through the streets, yet the ravenous beast persisted, his unrelenting hunger refusing to give way to a superior force. Instead, the Count lurched back, opening his bloodied mouth as his fangs extended, lunging forward with everything he had, slamming his exposed teeth into the Saiyan's arm, piercing through his hide-like flesh in an instant, trying to drain away any life for-

*GULP

The man spasmed as an overwhelming revulsion traveled through his entire body as though he had just ingested the most pungent of poisons known to mankind. In that moment, Trunks, in a spark of rage, pushed forward, against the suckling vampire, against bone and any resistance the man could put up against his inhuman strength, feeling the Servant's wrists snap and bend backward from the force as they gave way.

*CRUNCH

The Saiyan raised the man high, yanking his fangs out of his exposed arm as blood trickled to the ground below, slamming him into the hardened rocks below again and again as a sickening snap rang out, each impact tearing craters into the Earth before he spun on his heels, creating a miniature cyclone as they whirled around in little more than a blur, only letting go as the Servant's hands tore off, the momentum sending the tyrant careening into a cobblestone storefront.

*BOOOM

Trunks stood there a moment, panting as he gripped a hand over his bleeding arm, his eyes slightly widening in realization; the guy wasn't kidding; he actually was a vampire...the fighter paused as a pulse of pain rang through his mind, only to be suppressed by a burst of energy fortifying his mental defenses...just what the hell was he dealing wit-

"Foul..."

A thunderous cough rang out as the slumped-over tyrant lurched forward, falling from his embedded position and onto his knees, forcibly gulping whatever visceral fluids remained within his mouth down with a visible flinch of utter disgust, soon suppressing a gag until the liquid settled down, "Putrid like a rotting carcass, corrupted by a vile taint-"

The Servant pushed one leg up and then another, standing upright as a surge of energy rushed through him, rendering his broken bones set and healed within seconds as a purple flame ignited around his torn wrists, reforming shredded hands as the man's golden eyes ignited in ravenous fury, "Yet...rich, like a meal which could satiate a being even like myself for a lifetime...I crave more..."

A massive wave of smog erupted along the man's form as his eyes shifted into a burning red as his body began to contort and shift as it broke apart and reformed, his thunderous voice echoing out as a surge of bats rushed into the night sky, flowing between the broken buildings and charred remains of human life, swirling around the halfling like a living tornado of bloodlust, entirely focused on his existence alone, as though his blood were the key to satisfying an unrelenting itch within the back of the maddened beast's mind.

Trunks stood there, expanding his senses as his eyes closed to the world, feeling the shifting power levels rushing around him in a spiral, each identical yet a splinter from the whole, traveling around a darkened abyss surrounding him.

Time slowed as the Servant emerged, his half-formed torso lunging from the depths of his creation behind the Saiyan, his fangs crashing toward his exposed neck...only for the swordsman to lean oh so slightly to the side, dodged with a practiced ease as though the strike were pre-planned and coordinated, leaving the maddened vampire exposed as the hybrid grabbed him in an armlock, with white energy swirling around him, the warrior shot into the sky, forcing the man's unformed components to follow in his wake.

Trunks came to a crashing stop miles above the city as its faint glow loomed in the night sky; rotating mid-air, he aimed for an empty stretch of charred ruins as a white aura erupted around the pair, engulfing him and the Servant in its ethereal fire, "You want my energy?... Take it!"

*FWOOSH

The fighter rocketed straight down, like a shooting star heading for solid ground, his form lost in its blinding light as the vampire screamed into the night, his entire body burning as a foreign power overwhelmed every fiber of his being, burning off layers of skin as they neared their target, only for the halfling to let go at the last moment, the momentum carrying the screeching Servant across the medieval skyline, his body little more than a blur before it impacted with an ear-shattering blast, utterly annihilating miles and miles of civilization in an instant, vaporizing everything as a crater tore its way through the surface, in a blinding explosion.

*BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM

Trunks hovered in the air as the dust settled, watching as both the broken remains of city streets and mountains of loose dirt flooded into the pit, a silence ringing through the landscape he had just destroyed entirely, and at that moment, he could only glance toward his allies staring up at him in both awe and disbelief, wondering how he would explain this one.

...

And we'll leave things there for the time being; although I can't say when I plan to release the next chapter, it won't be as soon as this one, lol.

I was tempted to make the Vlad fight long-winded like the others (he's arguably one of my favorites) but really wouldn't stand much of a chance anyways, so it would threaten diminishing power scaling, so there you have it.

Some of you mentioned posting this story on other sites, which I might (I am notoriously bad with technology and websites, so it'll take me a while to figure things out if I go through with it), but with all that out of the way, take it easy, and I'll see you all in the next one; cheers.