-----Future, alternate timeline 1, year 795, october
 

* Damn thing is faster than I thought...*

Trunks skipped a few feet backwards, as a fist brushed very close against his face.

Too close.

He had never really fought hand to hand with any of them, and he had to admit, the little Creature facing him possessed an amazing speed and technique; it had thwarted all his attempts at firing a ki ball, parried all his blows and kicks with a dismaying ease, and now, he realized, had managed to find a breach in his defences. There were three bleeding slashes accross his cheek, where he thought his skin had only been grazed. But what was more, Trunks was starting to get tired, and he somehow suspected his opponent to be merely...starting.
 

"Seiya-chan !! Seiya-chan, okinasai !!!"

Startled awake by his sister's shrieks, Seiya confusedly sat up on the rugged floor where they had spent the night, locked in each other's embrace.

"Niichan's gone !" The little girl exclaimed, answering his unspoken question.

Seiya didn't wait for any further explanation. He scrambled to his feet, grabbed his sister's wrist and nearly dragged her up the unlit staircase. Their rapid footsteps resounded in the dusty hallways as they raced swiftly, at top speed through pitch darkness, their senses well inured to the absence of light. Soon enough, they reached the threshold of their underground hide. Without slowing his pace down, the boy snatched the tattered cloak that hung on the wall near the entrance, and, draping the heavy garment over their heads, the two children rushed out of the cool shade into the bleak, glaring emptiness of the desert.

Trunks wiped sweat off his brow with the back of his hand, in a mechanical gesture. Not that droplets of perspiration really hindered his vision. It used to bother him like hell before...Before. His ears were ringing painfully, and he wondered if, by any chance, he wasn't becoming deaf too...

The sun.

The god damned sun was taking it out of him. Any normally constitued Human would have been dead and dried in less than twenty minutes in that dizzying, sweltering heat. Trunks himself was reaching the limits of his endurance...

Crawling lazily on the sand, the Creature was taunting him. It wasn't even bothering to observe its opponent's weaknesses, as if it already knew the inevitable outcome of the fight. Trunks ground his teeth in frustration. He could almost see the Creature's lips twisted into a hideous rictus, its soulless, glittering eyes leering at him, silently mocking his persistence in protecting something that was bound to be destroyed.

*That remains to be seen, you freak.*

Trunks drew a long breath and powered up one more time. His aura grew brighter and he felt his body being revived with a new surge of energy. His smooth, fine hair stiffened and changed colors, from pale lilac to gold. He transformed gradually, being careful not to lose control, as to remain aware of the Creature's whereabouts.
 
The latter suddenly took several hurried steps backwards and let out a blood-curling snarl. There was no mockery in that sound, Trunks noticed, but something rather akin to surprise - or rage. Clearly enough, he wasn't the cause of such a reaction - the Creature's kind had easily defeated Super Saiyajins before - but his heart nearly stopped when he realized who was.

" Niichan...Yametekure..."a little voice pleaded.
 
The Creature, forgetting him completely, launched itself in the voice's direction. In the same fraction of a second, Trunks made a desperate dash for it, letting his ki burst as he reached Super Saiyajin three level.

" GET AWAY FROM THEM !!!!! "

The scream ripped his throat, filling the empty desert, piercing through the oppressive heat. He caught up with the Creature, flying atop of it, and gathered all of his energy into his right hand. * NOW * his mind ordered. With all the precision and strenghth he was capable of, he released a ki ball powerful enough to split the Earth in two, hadn't he learned how to perfectly steer his attacks. The Creatures's body was instantly pulverized ; the ki ball continued its course, speeding horizontally through the dunes, raising wild sandstorms, and  finally shooting out of the Earth's atmosphere like a meteorite.
 
It was perfect. His father would have been proud of him.
 
Perfect.

Only...

Something was wrong, very wrong. But Trunks wasn't allowed any time to wonder, as he was being lifted up in the air by a will that certainly was not his own.

" Niichan..." came the little voice, suppressing a sob.

His body went through several uncontrollable spasms, and he tasted blood in his mouth.

* No....*

Seiya-chan.

V-chan.
 
Dende help them. Then again, the unfortunate Nameccian God and the Dragon balls were long gone from this world...Trunks had failed and he would not get a second chance. If he died now, the twins would be lost. They had been so close. So close.

It was all his fault. It had been from the very start. Nothing compared to the horrible realization; not the mere fact that he had just been defeated, not the unbearable pain in his lower back where the Creature had caught him after evading his most powerful attack, not even the hand that was digging and clawing through his flesh...
 
But just then - and Trunks wondered if his slowly drifting into unconsciousness didn't play a great part in it - he ceased to feel the twins' presence. His failing senses rose in alarm, as he tried to pick up the precious lifesigns. He found nothing. For all he knew, they had vanished into thin air.

The Creature dropped him. He cried out in pain, feeling the rough sand burning the open wound in his back.

Again, the furious snarl could be heard and, as suddenly as he had lost track of the twins, his senses were overwhelmed by an incredibly powerful ki, diametrically opposed to the Creature's.

Not just powerful, he corrected.

It was a staggering, awe inspiring ki. It was a whole universe flooding out of nowhere, its waves crashing against the shores of their miserable world and quickly eroding them away. It would have made even the fiercest warrior fall down to his knees. It was humbling...

The next few instants were a blur in his mind : from a distance, as if someone had placed filters in his ears, he heard a violent bustle, punctuated by the Creature's distinctive snarl as it lunged itself at its new enemy. There was a sharp, metallic sound that Trunks immediatly recognized : the sound of a sword - his sword - being unsheathed, and almost at the same time, a frantic, ear-splitting howl of agony.

Then, silence.

The temperature was well above a hundred degrees, yet Trunks started to shiver. He panicked, lost in the dark, blind in every sense of the word, utterly helpless in the presence of a force so alien and unknown to him that even the thought of being afraid seemed futile.

* I'm Saiyajin. * he reminded himself.

Thus, with that last thought, he gathered his courage and the last ounce of pride he possessed, and laid still, waiting for whoever or whatever was still out there to come and...

Hands.

There were hands on him, lifting him, pulling him close. He whimpered in protest and unsuccessfully tried to tear himself away from the unexpected embrace.

*Don't be scared* Trunks thought he heard...or felt ?

The frightening ki he had perceived earlier had transmuted into a soft, ethereal presence, and it was slowly enveloping him, with the all encompassing  warmth and reassurance of a mother's womb. He realized his skin was no longer exposed to the biting rays of the sun, and, as he drowsily wondered how there could ever be any shade in the middle of such a barren, flat wasteland, a faint gleam of light made its way through his eyes. Trunks blinked several times, but the dim light would not subside. Had he become insane, to the point where he fancied he was able see again? However  curiosity took the better of him; as much as he found it difficult - and painful - to even lift a finger, he tried to move his head. It could be all but a dream, a senseless figment born out of a dying man's imagination, but he had to know. He wanted to see the one to whom belonged the gentle hands, the steady, eerily slow heartbeat he felt against his ear, the voice that pervaded his mind and body like a passing mood.
 
Trunks looked up. And gasped.

"Your wings..." he breathed. " They...They're becoming... white... So beautiful..."

Again, he started coughing up blood. A thin, graceful hand lifted ; it caressed his hair, removed a few lavender colored strands from his face, cupped his bruised cheek.

"I'm... sorry I didn't want to see..." he finally managed to articulate.

*Ssh...*

*Do what you have to do.* Trunks replied silently. *I love you.*

The heart next to his ear skipped a beat; the pair of crystal blue eyes looked down at him with a surprised, almost pained expression. However the eyes smiled again, and the arms gathered him closer. Soft lips took possession of his and he relaxed completely, as the world grew faint and his thoughts began to fade. The white wings closed down on him, and for the first time in the last five years, he welcomed the darkness of sleep. He was not afraid.

There was nothing to be afraid of.

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This story belongs to Madperson, don't copy it unless you want to end up in the Madhouse's cave for all eternity (and believe me, that's a very long time !!!). *.*