The Tournament of Terror! The Savior Has Come!
Trunks wiped his eyes and slowly sat up, still on his knees in the dirt. This was it. It was over. He was never going to defeat Cell. He'd never had a chance. Wallowing in the absolute depths of his despair, Trunks looked at the broken sword in his hands. There was still about an inch of jagged, broken steel jutting out from the hilt. He felt his heart racing as the sunlight glinted off of the point of the blade.
"It'd be so easy…" he whispered. His hands were trembling so horribly that he nearly dropped the sword. He closed his eyes… but when he closed them, he saw Gohan. Not the Gohan of this timeline but his Gohan. The look of surprise and horror on his face. The hole burned right between Gohan's wide open eyes. Trunk squeezed his jaw shut and his grip tightened on the sword as his eyes opened slowly. "No," he muttered in a resolute growl. "No," he said again, more emphatically, as he rose to his feet. "Cell doesn't get to win this easily!" Then he took off into the sky again to head back to the Lookout. He had to tell the others what he'd learned. He knew he couldn't defeat Cell so the only ones he could hope for was Goku and Gohan. That was a little funny, actually. From the stories his mother had told him growing up, that was how things had usually gone for everyone before Cell, too.
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"You said that if Goku is alive in the other timeline, they'll be able to defeat Cell," Trunks said as he helped his mother work on the time machine, handing her tools from her toolbox when she reached for them. "Was she really that powerful a fighter?"
"It's not that," Bulma replied, her voice slightly echoing with her head buried in the Time Machine's inner workings. She reached a hand out and Trunks handed her a soldering iron. "Goku was the strongest of us but her greatest strength was what she could do for others. She inspired us and made us feel like everything would be okay. As long as we knew Goku was coming, it gave us an energy to fight on. All we had to do was hold the line."
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Yet even as he reflected on his mother's words, Trunks remembered what Cell had told him. If Cell had been travelling through time for fifty years, she must have fought Goku before and defeated her. So much for Goku's inspiration. Was there any hope of winning?
"It's funny," Trunks muttered bitterly to himself. "I didn't even know I had any hope left to lose." He flew in silence on the way back to the Lookout and the expectant expressions on everyone else's faces hit him like a punch to the stomach.
"Trunks!" Bulma exclaimed with worry as she ran up to him and stroked his face with motherly overexcitement. "What happened? Are you okay? Are you hurt? Do you need a senzu?"
"Trunks," Piccolo put in before Bulma could smother the young man, "What happened with Cell? We felt your power skyrocket before it dropped down to almost nothing and then Cell flew off."
"Yeah," Launch added, "You don't look like Cell kicked the shit outta ya." Trunks started to reply when Bulma wrapped her arms around Trunks and held her time-displaced son close.
"I'm just glad you're okay," Bulma muttered. Being hugged by his mother, whom he had almost assuredly failed and was more than likely dead, was almost more than Trunks could stand.
"Trunks?" Suno asked as she saw tears forming in the corners of Trunks' eyes. "What's wrong?" Trunks reluctantly shoved Bulma away and forced himself not to cry, feeling Vegeta's glare on him from a distance. He wouldn't give the bastard the satisfaction of thinking he was weak. Then he let out a shaky breath and told them everything Cell had told him. Their faces fell at the revelation and a cloud of dread seemed to hang over them when Trunks was finished.
"Well..." Tenshinhan observed succinctly, "Shit." Launch and Krillin nodded, clearly sharing his sentiment.
"So what the hell are the 'Cell Games?'" Suno asked. "Is… she," she was still getting used to the idea of calling Cell that and she'd actually seen Cell's Perfect form. Ten, Launch, Bulma, and Piccolo had a very difficult time of wrapping their heads around that. "Is she gonna like… host a big track and field event or something? Whoever throws the shotput the furthest wins and if she wins she blows up the world?" She wasn't being serious, obviously, but she really had no idea what was going to happen. This was so… weird. Freeza had toyed with them back on Namek but that was different from Cell turning the fate of the world, of the universe, into a literal game.
"I don't know," Trunks admitted. "Cell just said to watch the news." He sighed and shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry," he muttered glumly. Krillin patted him on the arm and gave him a weak smile.
"It's okay," he assured Trunks, "You did your best. Besides, world's not over yet! We've still got practically a whole day before Gohan and Goku come out of there! Who knows what kinda power they'll have when they come out?"
"Oh yes," Vegeta scoffed, speaking for the first time since Suno had shoved a senzu into his unconscious mouth and forced him to swallow it like a dog with medicine. "Grovel before Kakarot and wait for her to solve the problem. Bunch of cowards!" Trunks' face burned with anger as he shoved past the group to stomp towards Vegeta. He smirked at Trunks' fury and shook his head in disappointment. "And you're the worst of the lot," he said harshly. "No doubt you intend to put all of your problems and your failures at my feet like the disappointment you are, refusing to accept ant responsibility for your actions." Trunks' eyes widened at Vegeta's insult and the King of Saiyans glowered in contempt. "You had all this power inside you. You could have finished Cell off at any time! So why did you not do so?" Trunks seethed as his fury smoldered in his dark eyes, looking more like his father in that moment than he could ever realize. "Well? Come on, let's hear it!"
"Because," Trunks spat contemptuously, "I wanted to believe in you. I wanted to give you a chance to do the right thing. Because despite everything my mother told me, I wanted to believe you could be a good person. Because I was an idiot." He sneered at Vegeta in utter disgust. "I can't believe I ever wanted to know you. I don't want anything to do with you!" Then he turned sharply away from Vegeta and headed back toward the others, leaving Vegeta to ferment in his anger and his wounded dignity.
"So," Krillin asked, "What now?" Piccolo shook his head.
"We know that Cell isn't going to make an attack for at least a week," he observed. "Goku and Gohan, as Krillin already pointed out, won't be coming out of the Hyperbolic Time Chamber for several more hours." He gave a shrug, his blue cape billowing slightly in a sudden breeze. "I suppose we'll just have to wait until they come out." There was a slight pause. "...I more or less live here now," he remarked, "But you all are free to go home."
"Oh yeah," Launch muttered, "You and Kami merged. Kinda forgot about that in all the excitement. ...Which means there's no more Dragon Balls."
"I'm sorry, what?!" Bulma exclaimed. She'd missed that particular revelation as she had been cut out from the telepathic relay of this conversation earlier.
"When Kami and I merged," Piccolo explained, "The Dragon Balls became inert as Kami technically no longer existed and the Dragon Balls were tethered to his life force."
"Oh no," Bulma muttered as the color drained from her face. "Oh no, this is bad."
"Yes," Ten remarked dryly, "We already came to that conclusion."
"Well, wait a sec," Krillin objected. "What if we went and got a Namekian to come from New Namek to serve as Earth's Guardian? I mean, we did save their entire race, I don't think they'd mind that much."
"That'd be great," Bulma muttered sarcastically, "If I hadn't lost the paper that the coordinates were written on." The rest of the group promptly face-fell.
"Oh, you've gotta be fuckin' kidding me," Suno groaned irritably. Bulma held her hands up defensively as the others glowered at her and got to their feet. "Well maybe Kaiou knows. Has anyone tried asking him?" There was an awkward silence. "Wait, can any of us talk to him?"
"I've never tried," Tenshinhan said with a shrug. "His jokes aren't really my style." They all waited for the expectant "I heard that!" that would usually follow that sort of statement but it didn't come and they collectively shrugged. Except for Trunks, who just stared at them. His mother and Gohan had mentioned Kaiou in their stories about the way things were before everything went bad but as neither of them had been dead there was only so much they could tell him.
"I tried while we were waiting for Vegeta and Trunks," Piccolo admitted, "But I couldn't get any response. Even with Kami's knowledge and energy expanding my spiritual consciousness, it was as if he simply… wasn't there."
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In the year 850 on the technological marvel that was Toki Toki City, Northern Kaiou, the supreme God of the Northern Universal Quadrant and greatest martial artist among the lesser Kaious, stood in the domicile of Chronoa, the Time Kaioushin, master of all time, the oldest of the Kaious, despite her youthful, childlike appearance and impulsive, energetic nature.
They were in Chronoa's kitchen and Kaiou was giving her cooking lessons.
"Thanks for coming by," Chronoa said cheerily as she watched Kaiou expertly dicing carrots and leeks on a cutting board while she used a mortar and pestle properly for the first time in her nearly-infinite life. "Honestly, I dunno what I'd do without you stopping by every couple hundred years."
"I just don't understand it," Kaiou muttered as he pushed the vegetables into a neat little pile and started cutting up mushrooms. Chronoa looked at him quizzically.
"Don't understand what?" she asked. Kaiou pulled down his sunglasses and peered at her with a certain measure of exasperation.
"You're the Time Kaioushin," he pointed out, "The observer and controller of all of time! How can you not find enough time to figure out how to cook? I swear, the last time I visited you were nearly chopping off your fingers!"
"Well I don't have an answer to that," Chronoa admitted, "But you know what I can do as the Time Kaioushin?" her childlike face suddenly hardened as her eyes narrowed. "I can go back in time and ensure that you were never born. I mean I kinda shouldn't because I'm supposed to preserve the time stream but, hey, as long as a Northern Kaiou is born, no harm done." The color drained from Kaiou's face and his blood ran cold.
"S-so," he stammered as a nervous, force smile curled onto his lips, "C-can you get me the wok? You wanted to learn how to make stir fry today, right?"
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The group looked at each other again and shrugged. "I guess we'll all meet here tomorrow," Suno suggested. "Not like there's any point in hanging around here for the rest of the day." Everyone nodded and those who could fly started to make for the edge of the Lookout while Bulma popped one of her plane capsules.
"Make sure to keep the news on!" Launch called as the human quartet walked off the edge of the Lookout and flew off in three separate directions. Tenshinhan and Launch came home to find that Chaozu had returned from the Wolf and Ox household with about half a dozen extra pancakes from Chi-Chi. Suno returned home and tried to grade some tests before almost immediately quitting with far too much on her mind to focus on who got what history question wrong and sat down to flick through the TV.
Krillin floated out over the open ocean and was nearly at Kame house. He hung in the air and listened to the rolling of the waves as he felt the breeze brush over the smooth surface of his shiny head. He was completely alone. It was in that moment when he recognized his solitude that he cracked. He threw his head back and screamed in anguish and heartbreak before burying his face in his hands, sobbing pathetically. He'd just let her die. If he had just been stronger, if he'd been more of a man, none of this would have happened. They could've killed Cell and then gotten one of the Namekians to be the new Guardian and wished everyone back. But he'd screwed up again, because he was weak. This was his fault.
"Hey, Trunks?" Bulma asked as she started to climb into her yellow plane, "What happened to your sword?" Trunks gave a start and looked down at his hand, having almost completely forgotten that he held the broken blade in his tightly-clenched fist. "Trunks?" Bulma repeated softly as he stared at it.
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"Mom," Trunks said eagerly as he tugged on Bulma's shirt to get her attention. He couldn't have been more than nine or ten. "Mom, mom!" Bulma set her tools down on the workbench and pulled off her helmet, smiling down at Trunks. She was probably already working on the time machine, even back then.
"What is it, sweetie?" Bulma asked as she dropped down to a crouch to look at Trunks eye level.
"You need to make me a sword!" Trunks told her firmly, as if this were an undeniable fact. Bulma raised her eyebrows curiously and gave Trunks a weary, questioning smile.
"What the heck do you need a sword for?" she asked. "Who would even teach you how to use it?"
"Gohan showed me some of the books he read when he was my age," Trunks explained. "In his stories, the hero always beats the monster with a sword! If I'm going to beat Cell then I need a sword, too!" Bulma laughed and tousled Trunks' hair.
"Okay," she told him. "One sword. I think I can take care of that." She was probably already overworked and exhausted, to say nothing of the stress of losing nearly everyone and everything that had mattered to her. Yet she still made Trunks that promise. "Anything for my little hero," she added before kissing Trunks on the forehead.
"Mooooom!" Trunks groaned as he pushed her away in embarrassment and tried furiously to rub the smooch-stain off.
It was nearly two years later when Bulma handed it to him. Trunks stared at it wordlessly in breathless amazement as he drew it from its sheath and watched the light of the workshop glinting off the almost mirror-like surface of the blade.
"It's beautiful, mom!" Trunks exclaimed as he gave a few practice swings, testing the balance and listening gleefully to the way it swished through the air. "As long as I've got something like this, Cell doesn't stand a chance!"
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"Trunks?" Bulma asked again, having gotten back out of the plane to put a hand gently on Trunks arm. "What's wrong?" She saw the tears in the corner of Trunks' eyes as his face screwed up in guilt and self-loathing. His hand shook so badly that the broken blade rattled in the hilt.
"Nothing," Trunks grumbled as he pulled sharply away from Bulma's touch, which startled her. "It's just a stupid sword. Just a stupid dream." He powered up to a Super Saiyan and screamed with rage as he threw the sword as hard as he possibly could, watching with contempt as it hurtled off toward the horizon. Then he flew away, leaving Bulma to watch her son with concern.
OoOoOoO
Back at the Capsule Corp building, Bulma managed to get Trunks to sit down with her in the living room to watch some TV with her and his "past" self. Trunks sat down in a bit of a huff with his arms folded while Bulma channel surfed. She stopped on a trio of ducks in colorful sweatshirts and matching caps.
"Oh, I used to watch this when I was a kid!" she exclaimed happily. "I didn't know they were still rerunning it."
"Race cars, lasers, aeroplanes," the theme song sang, "It's a duck blur! Y'might solve a mystery or rewrite history!" Trunks looked incredulously back and forth between the television and his mother, who was dancing in her seat with the baby Trunks happily giggling in her lap.
"Wh… what is this?" he asked in bewilderment.
"It's a cartoon," Bulma explained. Trunks didn't look any less confused. "What," Bulma asked, "You never watched cartoons?"
"When?" Trunk asked flatly with growing irritation. "When would I have ever had an opportunity to–" He stopped himself and set his fists in his lap, squeezing his eyes shut and taking a few deep breaths. "I'm sorry," he muttered. "I didn't mean to–" They were interrupted as the TV set crackled and immediately switched to a human man in a dark brown suit sitting behind a news desk. The dark-haired, clean-shaven young man was Caesar Firecracker, kid brother to famous field reporter Jimmy Firecracker, and the new lead anchor for the ZTV afternoon news after the previous head anchor, a skunkman, was forced to step down for "inappropriate workplace conduct." The young anchorman was clearly sweating bullets and looked absolutely terrified.
"L-ladies and gentlemen," he stammered while trying to maintain some level of professional conduct to rein in his mind-numbing terror, "We interrupt your regularly-scheduled broadcast to bring you this emergency b-bulletin." He swallowed and started to speak again when a voice from off-camera cut him off.
"It's alright," Perfect Cell assured him as she sauntered on screen and stood behind Caesar's chair, "I can take it from here. This will go out to everyone, right?" Caesar nodded nervously. "Super!" Perfect Cell then looked straight into the camera. "Imperfect dregs of the Earth," she began, "My name is Perfect Cell!"
"That chick is Cell?" Bulma asked in disbelief. Trunks nodded, his jaw clenched shut and his fists squeezed so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Vegeta watched the broadcast on the television in his bedroom and his face curdled with rage at the sight of Perfect Cell.
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"Wait, what?!" Launch exclaimed as she, Tenshinhan, and Chaozu stared at the television. Yet again, their new show had been interrupted. This time it had been the big fight between Mob and Teru. Tenshinhan merely stared with all three eyes bugged out wide.
"...Not bad," Chaozu muttered appreciatively and received immediate death glares from the other two. "What?"
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Roshi and Krillin watched the broadcast on Kame Island, Roshi sitting on the couch and Krillin leaning over the back of it, glowering at the television. Roshi took off his sunglasses and rubbed his eyes, squinting at the picture.
"I thought you said it was some kinda bug," Roshi muttered. Krillin only glowered at the screen.
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"If you're wondering around the cause of the recent disappearances in cities all across the globe," Perfect Cell continued before pausing dramatically and chuckling, "You're lookin' at her. Thankfully, your time of terror is nearly at an end," she flashed a malevolent smile with murder in her eyes. "Because you're all going to die."
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"Good heavens!" Yuki gasped as she watched the broadcast on her little TV. She held tightly onto Chief Eighter's big hands as he stood beside her and watched worriedly. She hoped Suno and her family would be alright.
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"Sooo," Upa said as he sat on Mai's desk while he, Mai, and Iris watched the news on the TV in their office, "Time to skip town for a little while?" They'd been lucky so far, honestly, Epicenter City being one of the few major cities that hadn't been hit yet. Maybe they could go visit his father at the Holy Korin land, away from the rest of the population, until this blew over.
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Yamcha frowned and ground his teeth as he watched on the Ox King's big screen TV. The rest of the family was outside in the backyard, the kids wanting to play with "Pawpaw" and the swing set that Ox King had bought and and built for them. He'd let them stay out there and tell them about this himself later.
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"Now don't worry, I'm not gonna just blow up the Earth," Perfect Cell continued with an almost teasing tone to her voice. "Did that already and it's just kinda boring after the eighth time. You'll have a chance to avoid your planet's fate and protect it from my wrath in… the Cell Games!" She turned around to face the map of the world on the wall behind her and stabbed her finger through the map in the plains between Epicenter City and the Northern Mountains. "Exactly ten days from today," Perfect Cell explained as she turned to the camera again, "I will be holding an open invitation tournament: Me versus the entire population of this planet! Those seem like pretty good odds, right? All you have to do is defeat me in single combat. Or heck, rush me all at once, I don't really mind!" She spread her arms out wide in a challenging gesture, beckoning with her hands, as if she was genuinely expecting the world to attack her right there. "So go ahead, get your strongest fighters! Come one, come all! Don't hold anything back! Because if you can't defeat me?" Perfect Cell chuckled and put a fingertip on Caesar's desk. "Boom." The desk burst apart into subatomic ash, causing Caesar to collapse to the floor since he'd been leaning on it. "See you all in ten days!" Perfect Cell said with a parting wave before flying up through the ceiling like a rocket, laughing maniacally and melodramatically. Caesar climbed up into his chair and did his best to look professional.
"W-we will bring you more on this story as it develops," He said, "But for now we will return you to your regularly scheduled broadcast." Suno watched the whole thing with a steely expression on her face, her hands on her lap as she hunched forward to lean closer to the TV.
"When my wife gets out of that chamber," she muttered resolutely, "She's gonna kick the shit outta you." A few minutes passed and Suno had barely settled back in to watching her show when the television cut to static again before going to the front of some large mansion with a balcony overlooking an enormous crowd that had gathered in front of it. "Huh," Suno muttered, "That was quick."
"Ladies and gentlemen," said Jimmy Firecracker as the camera panned down to the beleaguered and bespectacled correspondant, "We now bring you live to Orange Star City, the home of the World Champion, who will give a statement as to what you just heard."
"World Champion?" Suno muttered as she scratched her head. That sure didn't look like her house.
"Ladies and gentlemen," a deep and sonorous voice boomed from the house, "Have no fear, your savior is here! The champion of the 24th Tenkaichi Budoukai–"
"Wait, when did that happen?" Suno, Krillin, Yamcha, Tenshinhan, and Launch all asked at the same time.
"The man of the hour," the voice continued, "The tower of power, too sweet to be sour, too hot to handle and too cold to hold! The Immortal, the Headliner, the Showstopper, the Icon, the Main Event! The Once in a Century Talent! The People's Champion, the Best in the World, the Ayatollah of Rock 'n' Rollah! The World's Most Dangerous Man, the Lethal Weapon! The Phenomenal One! The Greatest Man that Ever Lived! Big Daddy Cool! He is the Best there is, the Best there was, and the Best there ever will be!" At this point, white smoke had begun to billow up from the balcony and the crowd was shaking their fists and stomping their feet, working themselves into a frenzy. "The Man They Call… Hercule!" Hercule Satan, as he had legally changed his name, burst through the balcony's double doors to rapturous cheers as the gathered crowd roared and screamed his name.
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"Oh my fucking God!" Tenshinhan exclaimed in exasperation while Launch was reduced to peals of wordless, helpless laughter, falling off the couch and kicking her feet in the air as she turned red in the face.
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"Wait, seriously?!" Yamcha asked incredulously. "This guy won the Tenkaichi Budoukai?!" He wished someone had told him when the 24th tournament had been. He could've actually won it for once!
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It clearly wasn't just the Tenkaichi Budoukai that Hercule had won as he had more than a dozen championship belts from various tournaments he had won draped over his arms and strapped to his waist and legs, with his wife Miguel holding up two and his young, pigtail-wearing daughter Videl holding one in her arms. Hercule held up his hands and the audience immediately went silent, hanging onto his every word.
"Well lemme tell ya something, Perfect Cell!" Hercule boomed, his voice amplified by the earpiece microphone that he was wearing. The audience cheered and Hercule waited for them to stop before continuing. "You show up outta nowhere, ya kill a whole buncha innocent people, and you think that makes you bad?" Hercule gave a short, rhetorical pause before immediately roaring, "It doesn't matter what you think!" The crowd parroted his words as he said them and cheered again. "You forgot one thing, Cell," Hercule continued. "You forgot about The Man! You forgot about The Champ! You forgot about the guy who's gonna stomp a mudhole in your ass and walk it dry!" The crowd roared as Miguel gasped and looked down at Videl, who heard all of this with a huge grin on their face. "In fact, why don't you all tell Cell what's gonna happen when I get my hands on her in ten days?" Hercule asked, gesturing down to the crowd.
"Cell's gonna get her fucking head kicked in!" The crowd chanted, clapping their hands rhythmically before chanting it again. "Cell's gonna get her fucking head kicked in!" Hercule laughed and beckoned for the crowd to keep chanting, cupping his hands to his ears to make them chant even louder. Miguel's eyes went as big as dinner plates and she quickly covered Videl's ears while she elbowed Hercule in the ribs and gestured angrily down toward Videl with her chin. Hercule, as if realizing his mistake, quickly gestured for the crowd to hush, which they did immediately.
"My dad's gonna kick Cell's fucking butt!" Videl exclaimed. Miguel nearly fainted on the spot as Hercule threw back his head and laughed boisterously. The crowd roared as Hercule scooped Videl up and put her on his shoulder before grabbing Miguel and putting her on his other shoulder, thrusting his arms triumphantly into the air as the crowd cheered.
"Fuck 'er up, Hercule, fuck 'er up!" They shouted before clapping and stomping their feet. "Fuck 'er up, Hercule, fuck 'er up!"
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"Soooo," Tenshinhan asked the still laughing, still-red-faced Launch on the floor, "We're not actually going to let him fight Cell, right? She'll kill him just by looking at him really hard."
"I-is that supposed to make me not want him to fight?" Launch asked, barely able to get the words out as tears ran down her face. Ten sighed and rolled his eyes. What a circus this was turning out to be. It would almost be funny if it weren't also completely terrifying.