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"Is that the best you can do?"
He hears as he pants heavily above a puddle of blood mixed with sweat trying to push himself up on his feet. Everything is red, air itself is a heavy burden on his being, as if the very gravity is trying to crush him into a mere stain on tiled flooring. He looks up, though even rolling his eyes in his own sockets takes time, let alone moving his head and neck. All that, to see a man folding his arms glaring down at him.
"Answer when I speak to you!"
He is... Towering. Taller than any man he has known or seen. Despite that, he is something else entirely, human looking yet somehow monstrous as well. Wild hair that stands up as if to defy this insane gravitational pull, eyes that pierces into the soul and breaks through solid steel, complimented with a scowl of sheer disrespect along with utter disappointment. Condescension on another level far beyond anything no other person could hope to meet.
But in that face is a bizarre and striking similarity, for he sees it every time he looks in the mirror. There are slight differences in the nose, his cheeks, and of course this man has black hair as well as black eyes... Yet, these still cannot hide that he is looking at his own face.
"Such soft skin, such weak bones, and an even weaker spirit..."
Even the physique of this man is like his own, beyond comprehension with his chest showing a litany of battle scars, but what truly snatches his attention are two key things.
The first is a brown tail. A real tail that idly moves around almost mockingly as his own cold sweat is dragged out of his straining pores, this tail silently mocks him by casually swishing in the air, but it is this man's words that nearly stop his heart.
"No son of mine should be this weak! I don't care if you're just a toddler, we Saiyans are planet conquerors from birth, so stand up! Or is that truly, the best you can do, huh?! I will not ask again, boy!"
"... It... I-It isnt-!"
He speaks forcing himself to stand. A grown man enters a fighting stance ready to spar with a young child barely able to stand.
They fight and it is pure agony for the child.
Every move feels sluggish, every joint screams and bone aches, his body is being ripped apart each passing second. His teeth threaten to fall right out of his gums. This pain is intensified each time this man, his alleged father, pounds into him at blinding speeds. From being able to see bullets in slow motion, to matching the speed and power of a light based attack, he cannot fathom how a simple punch can feel so... Terrible.
It is in this exchange of brutalizing blows that he finds himself bearing a tail as well. A tail that, in this light, is the same as his own hair. So many questions he wants to ask but cannot as he focuses on simply staying alive against the meteoric onslaught sent down by his own father.
He barely lifts his arms up in time to block the second wave of bone shattering attacks, does his best to parry the few he can see that make it past his pitiful defense, until finally letting out a primal scream as he headbutts an oncoming hook for his jaw. He pushes his father's fist back catching the abusive man off guard and stumbling back.
It is enough to let him finally respond in kind by sending an uppercut to his chin letting out a thunderous crack upon contact with a visible blur of force. He put his all into that one blow, standing in equal defiance of this cruel environment, adopting the same stature of his foe.
He feels like he should be surprised, but this memory of himself in this moment feels disdain instead of shock, self loathing and inadequacy as his "father" only spits a small splatter of blood to the wet ground.
"Hmph. Struggling to land a punch in one-hundred and forty times gravity? Pathetic... Even so, landing any punch on me deserves some measure of commendation."
The boy grits his teeth with rage at... Himself. He should be better, can be better, so much is on his shoulders and this strength is simply not good enough!
But why?
"Never forget, boy. You are the Son of King Vegeta, my son. Royal Saiyan blood courses through your veins. In that blood is unmatched, unrivalled, uninhibited and ever growing so long as you understand why it must."
This man, Vegeta, is a king. This would make himself a prince? King Vegeta steps forward as the red lights in the room turn white, the intense gravity vanishing at once which allows him to breathe at last without gasping between a choked throat and waning lungs. King Vegeta walks past him. For a few steps before finishing his speech.
"One day, a power greater than that you may ever know will appear before you, and it will kill you if you are not prepared. Your mother, our planets, our people, and all of our empire will all die if you are not prepared... But before all of that, you will die. Will you allow that by being soft?!"
There is no hesitance in both him in the past and the him of the now as he answers turning to face his king.
"No sir!"
King Vegeta turns his head slightly, showing a glance while hiding a smile on his face.
Trunks's bloodshot eyes dart from each end of the Time Scroll open before him.
"Not here either... Not there... Where...!?"
He asks himself in quiet desperation. Trunks is no stranger to nightmares, but such vivid and bizarrely different scenarios, scenes that have never happened in his life before? That is uncommon.
But these strange instances are becoming the unsettling norm now. Ever since his last adventure with the Time Patrol, the close call with Demigra, and the creation of Conton City.
He has been assailed by dreams and memories that are his, yet not. Is it because of his own interactions with the Realm Outside of Time? Is this due to his experiences as a Time Patroller? He wanted to get to the bottom of this by himself. He needs to cease these distractions.
"Yoohoo! ~ You're up early!"
A peppy voice chirps. He flinches for a moment, but in truth, Chronoa reminds him of his mother. He turns to see the Supreme Kai of Time, the Goddess of Gods and Guardian of the Keeper of Time: Tokitoki, who sits upon her head with its beard braided with accessories. Bows and hair clips of pastel colors
She sees his dumbfounded face as they approach him, and giggles at his speechless reply.
"Seems some of our, fashionable agents, managed to get a hold of him while I was distracted! Tokitoki seems to like it!"
She says with mirth as she gently scratches her companion's leg. Though it has a beak, Trunks swears he can see it smile, somehow.
"Kiii!!!"
The bird calls out. He needed this. This was the breath of fresh air he needed. She always made things, brighter.
"Supreme Kai of Time! You do know, you made it so there's no night, right?"
She pouts at his reminder.
"Oh hush, you! Nighttime would force the manga artists to ink more! Be more considerate!"
"You are, breaking a wall I am not privy to."
Trunks' eyes lower, a tired smile from her constant jokes, especially ones that fly over his head. She rocks her hips side to side watching him with an accusatory leer.
"I know your sleep schedule! I made it myself, so, why are you up? Something the matter? You don't study the Time Scrolls this hard unless something is stressing us out."
She inquires, hopping from the ground and holding onto his shoulder as she uses him as a perch. Her short stature is a necessary façade to keep her immense power in control, but also disarming those easily fooled by her genuine childish nature, something Trunks has fallen for a few times.
Such as now, as he turns away from her, though he does not hide the Time Scrolls in his hands, nor those on the desk before him. There was no need for such a thing. He does however turn his face away from her for a moment, scolding her.
"Nothing to report-! Hey, just go around! Please, act your age!"
"No. Don't wanna. Hm? Isn't this Planet Vegeta? A little before Bardock's final stand against Freeza?"
She asks, studying the contents of the scroll. In truth, she knew this part of history as well as every blade of grass within the sacred Time Nest. However, she glances between it and Trunks, who reluctantly gives his answer.
"I-I've been having strange dreams lately... Dreams that I was raised in this part of history instead of my own."
Chronoa tilts her head as she hangs from her perch on his shoulder. Her arms overlap as she rests her head on them, with Tokitoki flying off, her pure eyes gazing into Trunks' sweating face. She always did this when she wanted more, be it answers, tools, entertainment or even food. The last she did not need but partook in for the fun of it.
It occurs to him then... Chronoa is his friend. He should at least be open with her about his issues, should he not?
He shakes his head then. He is a mortal serving the greater good. He should not treat her so personably.
"Distractions. I apologize-! This is just some, silly dreams I'm having-"
He says to dismiss his concerns. He will shoulder this burden. He can overcome this trivial matter.
"OW!"
He yelps as Chronoa slaps the back of his head. She rarely hit him with any real force... In fact, that had been the first time she ever hit him.
"Don't do that again."
"D-Do what?"
"You're going through something right now. Tell me more so I can help you!"
She demands, pouting. For someone as old as Time, if not potentially older, he had a hard time reading her. Then again, he always pushed people away, people that aren't like him. Weren't, with him, during his turbulent life.
But she is not someone he needs to protect... Often. They are partners. The charge to protect Time itself is theirs to share, and if he cannot be trusted or trust her in kind, then this will not work.
And he knows he can trust her.
"I've been having strange dreams lately. Memories that I know aren't mine... But they're so vivid, so real, that I have found out more about other histories I've never even heard of but... Are here, within the Time Scrolls, histories that I shouldn't even know about. Why am I having these?"
Chronoa floats in the air, idly kicking her legs as she floats in front of him, gesturing to a seat at the desk.
"Would like to tell me about them, please?"
He reluctantly sits down and begins to recall one particularly nasty one.
"My Lord. You've done well, but there's a minor issue."
Trunks glances to his side, a towering giant, a real one this time, wearing angular armor much like his own though no spandex to hide the rippling muscles that make him look like a twig. Despite the intimidating stature and size of this bald warrior, a flash of a menacing smile across his moustache face, Trunks feels no fear.
Not for himself.
"These bugs are still crawling around, Arlia! We can't sell a planet if the population on them ain't dead!"
The man gestures to the cowering people. A populace of insectoid humanoids. They tried to defend themselves from him, but found solace in him, they look to him now as a savior. They are his now, he saved them from themselves and now stands before an inevitable end, one he must stop himself.
"What I say here goes! Understand me, Nappa!? I will take this matter to the Grand Vizer himself!"
Things blur, moments and memories flash and mix before things clear again, Trunks standing before a throne where Vegeta sits.
No, a man that looks remarkably similar to Vegeta, but his father is nowhere to be seen. This man is as tall as the bald Saiyan, but has a beard that does little to hide his deep scowl, his mouth opens spitting in a venomous tone.
"Mercy isn't the way of Saiyans. That humanity in you is holding you back. Get rid of it. You are a Royal Saiyan Prince, a member of the upper echelon, that means we take what we want."
Trunks answers back attempting to speak flatly and failing. Desperate to save his new friends.
"B-But the lives there could aid the Empire through tribute taxes! We control the planet, they get to live using their local knowledge to procure resources for us! They're already loyal after all my efforts! Isn't that-?!"
"Sound logic and reasoning, but that planet is an arid desert with nothing of worth! Nothing but some spices and bug water, you bleeding heart!"
He stands and flies towards Trunks at speeds completely outside the realm of human capabilities, a fist raised.
"Your father has been too soft with you and your mother's muddied blood hinders you! It's time you learn what it means to be a true Saiyan Warrior!"
Everything turned red. He could feel himself being hit, him hitting something back, for what seemed like an eternity of back and forth violence until finally the crimson veil over his eyes parted with a wipe of his hand. On the ground barely breathing is that same man. Trunks sat on his knees panting between haggard breaths barely able to peek out of one eye, and even then his vision is hampered by the blood that had splashed into his face.
A mix of his own and this man before him. The man himself looks up at him with one eye as well, but unlike Trunks who had a swollen bruise over his eye, this copy of his father had completely lost his.
This cruel and fatal demon he has the misfortune to know as Grandfather smiles at him. Defeated physically, but his lesson has been learned, a dogma now set inside the young boy that would change his life for the better as a Saiyan Warrior.
And the worst for everyone else.
Chronoa eyes her latest protégé with concern. He retold this horrible tale with an unseen horror. She has seen him emote before, joy, anger, even sadness as well as kindness. But even in the most dire moments, rarely did he show fear, especially in front of her.
It is not too obvious. She sees it in the tremble of his eyes, the rhythmic bouncing of his leg, the select few cold beads of sweat trickling down his brow and cheek.
"I can't tell if there's something wrong with me or if this is just... Some effect from working as a Time Patroller. Has anyone gone through things like this before, Supreme Kai of Time?"
She shakes her head. No one but those above her know how this all works, and those in that category are less than five, meaning someone else could be behind these... Nightmares.
"This is the first I've heard of it. Why don't you try to rest, and I'll watch over you, see if anything else is going on?"
"I-I wouldn't want to impose-! Ahh!!"
He yelps as she pulls on his hair.
"If you're not at your A game, then you'll be prone to mistakes in the field, and end up getting hurt when you should be just fine!"
"Okay-! Okay! I get it! Could you let me go, now!?!"
She does and he rubs his head. She then huffs before she hugs his neck.
"You're so stubborn... You try to hold the world on your shoulders, because that's all you've been doing so for such a long time. You don't have to do that anymore. You're not alone."
"... Su... Supr-... Chronoa. Thank you."
He, reluctantly, hugs. Not too long later, Trunks rests in a bed staring at the ceiling of his assigned room as his boss and friend hover her hands above his body.
"If you can't find any distortions within the Time Scrolls, there could be something attached to you, and it might be due to our daily headache."
He exhales through his nose, incapable of laughing, but even he finds some measure of amusement.
"Which one? Towa? Demigra? Maybe both? I wouldn't be surprised if he came back to life out of nowhere..."
"I don't know... But as you sleep, your ki will be at its weakest, and I'll be able to find anything that stands out from your own. It could be using your energy to hide itself..."
"If it isn't just me going crazy."
Trunks speaks in a sardonic voice. Chronoa pouts at him.
"You're not. Now shut up and get some shut eye."
He obeys. His eyes slowly fall and his breathing slows. She concentrates, and immediately as his power fades to a humble small flame, but there is something else there. Something, familiar.
Once discovered, it flares, and in response so too does Trunks as he erupts with power. He flies out of his bed and flails, wrapped in agony, searing pain overtaking his mind as Chronoa attempts to restrain him.
The aura of Violent Mode often found from the interfering energies of their foes envelopes him, however, it is different. The Violent Mode comes from Towa's studying the Time Rifts, from enhancements, all to create her ultimate creation in Mira. Mira was built for this purpose.
Trunks however, has now been taken by something else, something natural. Not scientifically created, unique, but true. Whatever it is, malice does not emanate from it, but it does bleed from Trunks.
"Trunks! There's something inside of you! Something reacting, to you! Tell me what's happening! Are you okay?!"
"Nggh!!! Urgh!!! C-Cyborgs...!!! You'll pay!!!"
He flies at her reaching for his sword, finding only empty air, but he moves to swing at her. He overshoots, flying through the walls and entering the bright grassy field outside, fighting an enemy that does not exist.
"YOU'LL PAY-! YOU'LL BOTH PAY!!!"
"H-He's hysterical...! No, it's him, but he's seeing something... S-Sorry to do this, Trunks!"
She holds her hands out and closes her eyes as she gets a grasp of him with her magic.
Telepathy. Entering the mind in such a manner is an invasion of privacy Chronoa does not approve of. However, at such dire times, and for such a dear friend, she will do what she can to save him.
Even if that is from himself.
The world falls away as she enters his mind. For a moment, as she blinks them open, she sees a flash of light. Then, lightning streaking across a blackened sea of ruinous clouds, tears of a mourning planet silently weeping.
A city landscape that tells of unspoken disasters and endless woe, buildings not flattened are tilted heavily, debris litters all but clearings made by even more destruction. Before her, before him, there were two familiar faces. Twisted. Molded, made into true monsters, perverted from his trauma of this horrible night.
A moment that has played in his head, over and over again, as two mechanical demons stand over a beloved martyr's corpse as it lies desecrated in a shallow puddle of mud.
"GET AWAY FROM HIM! DON'T YOU TOUCH HIM!!"
Trunks roars as he bursts ahead with lightning speed. He fights against the devilish duos, their taunts ringing in his ears, the cries of anguish of innocents echoing in his mind.
With Chronoa hearing every haunting voice... Thus, she must shout even louder.
"Trunks! This isn't real! You already defeated 17 and 18!"
"Wh-What!?!"
He gasps, and flashes of memories briefly streak by, like streetlights on a speeding highway. He remembers, he is not that same weak boy any longer, and shatters the air with a punch.
He and Chronoa fall away from one another, empty space surrounds them filled with floating crystals. The Realm Outside of Time. She reaches out for him, and he reaches out for her, but at once they find themselves as one.
A giant monster towers before them within a desolate wasteland. What once was a verdant land of progress, of culture and wisdom, wrought to broken mud and broken dreams.
Broken people surround him, hopeless, but too stubborn to give up. Damned if they surrender, damned if they fight back, but damn is it not their choice to try.
And he will try.
The blade in his hand has history. Their history, now is in his hands, as is their fate. They are powerless against this gigantic entity. This, phantom god, but not him. It is why he is here.
Chronoa recognizes this entity. Its ghoulish face, its gilded carapace, and bladed tail. A mix between zombie, cicada, and dragon all in one blasphemous union.
"Hirudegarn...?! Whe-When did this happen!?! No-! This is! Planet Konats! This is-!"
"DIE MONSTER! YOU DON'T BELONG IN THIS WORLD!!!"
Trunks bellows out in a younger voice. He is the same age as he was in the proper timeline these two met, just a child, wearing the armor of Saiyans with King Vegeta's royal necklace around his wrist.
The Phantom Majin is fast, but he is faster, and she does her part as well. It hits hard, but this is not about strength, not this time.
The blade is singing as they move, humming and glowing as they get closer. The beast attempts to disorient them, becoming a vicious ghost that is immune to physical damage, yet as Trunks swings his arms? The blade finds its mark, and the monster howls in agony as fire sparks to life, a glorious inferno blazes across the sky as it reforms without a tail.
The severed limb falls to the ground. It bleeds. It weeps. It feels pain. He has done more than wound it.
He has given the planet hope once again.
"MINOTIA! TAPION! NOW!!!"
He commands. A duo, a young man and a boy his age, they take a stand, and bring woodwind instruments to their lips.
A melancholic song stuns the beast still. It is paralyzed, only for a moment, but it is stuck.in stillness just long enough. With the warcry of a warrior unbefitting his small body, Trunks brings the sword down from the head, careening in a straight descent as a guillotine blade that executes this demon.
Freeing all those trapped within, a bright light from its dying form sends him and Chronoa back into the void dimension, with the Goddess of Time now flicking her wrist to snatch Trunks' fleeing body.
"Something is-! Forcing you to relive these alternative timelines!"
"Sup-Supreme Kai... Please...! I can't tell! Who I am! What is real-! There's just so many...! So many...!"
He says as he thrashes in the air, before they find themselves in another world, once again sharing a perspective as they glare down an army of glimmering death. Cold smiles, condescending jeers, and eyes that promise unending harm.
Meta Cooler and the Big Gete Star.
"So... Many..."
He grumbles under his breath. Chronoa begins to panic as she tries to get a grip, to find some way to control the situation, to just understand what is happening.
"Trunks-! When is this!? Why are you-!"
Chronoa tries to say but finds herself deafen by the astronomical power of a blast that comes their way, directly from the massive spaceship itself.
Trunks holds his hands up to deflect the blast. If he evades, the planet is done for, and lives he is defending are all forfeit. His fingers catch fire, his palms ignite into a blaze, his arms sizzle with smoke as his shoulders and face burn with intense heat.
But this is, different, yet again. He is, older... Much older. A thick beard, scars across his arms and chest, his hair overgrown and unkempt. With the shout of his ancestors, the Great Ape's power surges through him, his arms bulge with the rest of his body as he sends the attack right back at the spaceship damaging it.
The army before him all stared at him with stoic frowns. Unamused. Angry.
[ "You were supposed to die a quick death, Guardian." ]
[ "Now. We will take our time draining you of your energy." ]
[ "Down to the last bit of ki." ]
[ "Just as we did that fool father of yours, and of course, Son Goku." ]
Despite the feeling of his limbs being turned to ashes, Chronoa finds that his arms are only mildly singed, not at all harmed. He rolls their head, and for a moment, she finds herself unable to look away from him, as his reflection appears in the coming army.
As they clash, another flash sends them back, back into the Realm Outside of Time... But it is not.
It is a realm mimicking it, one within Trunks, a piece of it having entered him somehow now. She summons even more chains to restrain him.
He struggles against her hold, unintentionally making her job difficult, but a solution comes to mind then. This energy, this influence is feeding off of Trunks, it is tormenting him to get him to utilize his energy.
So they will just have to feed it until it bursts.
"Trunks! Listen to me! You, are the Warrior of Hope! I won't abandon you! Gohan and Bulma, they put their faith in you! Your father Vegeta, Goku, even me! No! ESPECIALLY! ME!!"
She pulls against him to get him to react, to give in as she holds tight on the bonds connecting them, dispelling the chains to hug him tight as they lock eyes. For a brief instant, Trunks becomes lucid, returns to reality as he and Chronoa share a moment.
"Something is trying to get you to lose yourself, but I know you won't lose, because I chose you! So, give this thing your everything you've got! Because you're not fighting alone! I'M RIGHT HERE WITH YOU!!!"
Everything shatters around them as Trunks is surrounded by new memories. He has been alone, all this time, or so he believed. So did every version of him believe...
But that isn't true.
A vision of Trunks eating dinner with his mother in a bunker, laughing in spite of all they've suffered. One where she is getting help wrapping a tight bind around her chest to hide her identity, only for the truth to come out, and for her friends to not care... Because they love her.
Memories of him and Gohan, him and Goten, of Goku and his father training. Meditating with Piccolo and Tien. Learning with his sister from Yamcha, teaching others with his best friends within the Time Patrol and...
Her.
She glitters in his eyes. She was everything... Right. Everything he was missing. He never really thought about these things until her, and it drove him insane, drove him to be better. To be stronger. Faster, smarter, sharper and wiser. She became all his power, for without her, how could he ever hope to achieve the heights he reached without her? How would he know, experience and enjoy it all so much, without her?
Chronoa had found what was, in all accounts, a harmless but troublesome meddling in time, and sought to punish him. For Trunks, meeting Chronoa, was the second best thing to have ever happened to him. The first, being every moment they ever had after that.
"You're not fighting alone, and you never have, because we're right here with you... Now, let loose everything you ever held back! Don't be scared now! No more holding in your emotions! I want you to give this creep, all of it!"
"Y-Yes ma'am!"
Trunks affirms as they are whisked away into the upper atmosphere of Earth, surrounded by Bojack and the Galaxy Warriors. One by one with mere swipes of his fists, he defeats them, power surging through his body as he releases the golden light of the Super Saiyan.
Then enters the ascendant state beyond the legend as he stands against the embodiment of evil in Janemba, blades clashing, dimensions shattering as he cuts the demon in two. His soul shines in its truest form, burning blood red, ruby red eyes and crimson hair as he becomes a god in his own right against Mira.
Mira sends him back, his body and spirit falters from the pain, but he lands in a gentle embrace as Chronoa catches him. Donning her true form, the two now side by side as Mira's appearance twists into what is truly haunting them.
A violet-red crystalline figure, a fusion of all their past enemies, eyes upon eyes with arms too long and too many legs to work with. A being confused by itself how to appear. How to counter them. What strategy, memory, or even thought to use to get its way.
"So you're what's inside of me? Trying to turn me into a meal? FINE THEN! HAVE ALL YOU CAN TAKE, AND MORE!"
Trunks roars as his godly power reaches its ineffable heights. Chronoa, smiling as she stays behind him, her own power added to feed this insatiable entity. She can see it, they can feel it, as it begins cracking before their eyes.
"You picked the wrong one to feed off of! I don't know how you came to be, I'm not sure if you're even aware of what you're doing, but you made your last mistake trying to take away what's mine!"
The amalgamation inflates, its body cracks with the fragility of glass, but it does not yield. It does, something. Something desperate. Something dire. It flies right at them, breaking apart, vanishing into non-existent embers piece by piece. It finally crashes into them as it explodes...
Chronoa wakes up to a damaged Time Nest. Still, at least it holds. She must have had another nightmare. She is not sure why she sleeps, aside from boredom, but it is bad etiquette for someone at her station.
She is the Supreme Kai of Time. She is to be vigilant. She must be adamant. She must be... Constantly watching. Never interacting. Never being. Never for her, to laugh with those she has come to know from an impossible distance, for their jokes are beyond her. Never for her, to feel cool water on a hot summer day, for the Time Nest is a nascent voice dedicated to the preservation of the timeline. A nexus where all begins and she must see where they all end.
Never for her to know these people that become integral to the growth of the universe. To see their great deeds, to study their immense turmoil, to experience as a mere witness to their stories that she etches within the Time Scrolls.
Only her. Just her. Always.
For she has to do this alone. She will do this alone. She must do it. Alone.
"Supreme Kai of Time! Supreme Kai of Time!! Wake up! Hey!"
Trunks shouts as he shakes her unconscious body. Her eyes are open, but glazed over, empty with the faint light of something behind there. Not dead, but stifled, muffled. Muted. Breathing, yet so still she would be no different than a corpse.
He looks up to the cracked dome above them, the walls of the Time Nest stubbornly standing, as she had barely saved him while doing her duty as the Keeper of Time.
Yet now, here she is in a worse state than himself, all thanks to him...
No.
Now is not the time for guilt or self-pity. Not now. Not this time. He will not fail again, not this time. He was too late to save his friend, his mentor... He has been too late to save his mother, in another time... Too late to save another Kai... H
Lessons learned, just as she had taught only just now, that he is not alone. He is not weak, and neither is she. He brings her head up to his own, pressing their foreheads together gently, as he centers himself. Slows his breathing, calms his mind, and recalls an often forgotten trick of Marital Arts... Something he has always lacked at... But he could always learn.
Long, long ago, Mūten Rōshi had told a young Tienshinhan of the psychic power masters of ki possess. He would see it again through Goku, through the Cold Clan, Cell and even far ahead into the Tournament of Power.
He could never hope to be as advanced as many of them... But a connection, just meager telepathy, even he should be capable of that much...
He must be...
Days do not exist in the Time Nest. There is no sky. There is no, outside. Just this chamber of infinite space. A bird cage of an unending room, to fill it with the unending span of history constantly being made, all so that unending progress can be made. There was never meant to be, an end.
Not for her. It is her honored duty to be the arbiter of integrity. Never to interfere, never to edit or revise a tragedy. Never to indulge in victory. Never know the feeling of conversation. Never know the feeling of a handshake, a hug, or even...
Such thoughts are troublesome. Why is she thinking of them? Why think of, ice cream, or tea time? Why think of driving a car or playing a card game? Such useless tasks are for mortals exclusively. For the gods may allow themselves to indulge to become more attuned with their charge, but she is the god over those gods, and thus must remain forever out of their reach.
Even her own kind has forgotten her... Or, had she ever been among them in the first place? Has she ever known anyone, anything, before the Time Nest? Before her role as Supreme Kai of Time?
Does she even have a name?
"Chronoa!"
She turns her head slowly at a unique sight. She has seen... Earthlings? No, his eyes are too sharp, his jaw and nose, as well as those peculiar ears. He is a Saiyan... Perhaps, a hybrid?
But she has never known this one before. She knew of Son Gohan and Son Goten, Son Pan, Bra, Beat-? No, this was someone new. A vision? She has not hallucinated in a while, and Tokitoki only sleeps, never wakes up to play or fly. Only to eat. Tokitoki does not play tricks like this.
So why is she imagining this now? Has she finally lost her empty mind? The ghost runs at her and slides to a knee, smiling with such desperate joy, she likened his face to a star.
She had nearly forgotten what such light looked like residing in the dim shelter of her sanctuary. The darkness of her holy prison.
"I found you! You look...! Tired! I'm sorry I came so late!"
"... You're... Late...?"
She asks slowly. How long has it been since she last spoke? Is that even her voice? Trunks watches her, bewildered by her exhausted behavior, almost sickly. Is this what he looked like when he had become afflicted with this parasite?
Her eyes, a dull grey as opposed to the glittering black. Her hair, a monotone hushed pink, and her skin a ghastly shade of pale. She is in her restrained form, skinnier, with poor posture and rings so heavy under her eyes that she could be mistaken for wearing mascara.
Did he look like this in her eyes? Or... Is this how she has always felt, in her core, hidden from all others.
Is this the real her?
He has no time for this. He must find the culprit. Does he locate it here? Does he search for the monster infesting her soul?
"You're... Real..."
She says reaching out for him. She can sense his energy, and he does not hesitate to grasp her hand, a warmth she has never known but feels so familiar.
"You're...! Real...!"
She quietly exclaims. The area shakes then, an earthquake of a sort, and for a moment he grew worried.
"The Time Nest-!"
"It's fine... Nothing happens here. We're stuck here, forever. Maybe not you... But I am... I must be here."
He looks at her, then at the endless Time Scrolls meticulously stacked in various ways, some even made to make structures mimicking buildings or people.
Is this what she has gone through? Is it a hallucination? Is it a memory like his own?
Does it matter?
"You can take a break."
He says as he picks her up. Her eyes widen slightly, but she holds onto him tightly, not wanting this moment to end. Finally, finally someone else is her. Another person. Another being, and she is now, oh so tired. Such an awful host she is.
"I have to... Maintain my duty... Get you a snack or-"
"Did you forget? Supreme Kai of Time, it's me! Your faithful Time Patroller! You just rest here-!"
He says as he attempts to put her down on what he thinks is a bed. A cushion for sure, but its frame is made from Time Scrolls, fake ones he realizes as he inspects them a moment longer. This whole world is, fake.
But she is not, and she refuses to let go of him, so he sits down with her.
"And I'll keep an eye on things until you've rested!"
"But you're mortal... You'll be dust in a blink of an eye... And I'll be lonely again..."
She says with a sniffle. Such a thing as simple as that would never bother her before... Or perhaps... It had always bothered her.
"Then you'll have to wake up soon, won't you?"
He lays back as the room shakes again. Her eyes begin to fall, fluttering weakly, barely able to stay awake.
"But this is my... My... My responsibility... They're all... My responsibility... And mine... Alo-"
"You're not alone, Chronoa."
Now, it is he who hugs her tighter. He watches the cracks streak across the walls and into the void above, reaching the boundless ceiling, as she begins breathing slower. Her body loosens as she starts to succumb to her weariness.
She starts to remember things that never were. Memories of learning how a rice cooker works. Memories of playing rock paper scissors for the first time. Being able to tell her many practiced jokes, being able to laugh at all, is able to smile with another.
She remembers his energy first. Then, as she nuzzles her head into his neck, she recalls those lilac locks. His striking blue eyes that hold the sky in them, free as clouds, bright as a child's dream and vast as an ocean. She remembers his smell, as her lips ever so slightly curve into a small subtle smile, and her eyes finally close.
"You were always... So warm... Trunks."
Trunks opens his eyes in time to see Chronoa wake up as well, her hand on her throat as she chokes on something, he holds her up before squeezing her from behind to force the object out of her body.
A lone crystal.
Later, after some studying, Chronoa would learn the truth behind their latest misadventure.
"It would seem all the battles within the Realm Outside of Time have caused some kind of mutation to some of the Time Crystals that have yet to hold a timeline within them... It was growing into a living being using the immense amount of ki that would be flung around, and I think it latched onto you, hoping to become something more... So it was using its properties to elicit a flight or fight response to gather more ki to sustain itself."
Trunks eyes the isolated crystal as it floats within a glass vial
"Then... Is it dangerous even now? "
She shrugs.
"If it was malicious, I don't think it would allow itself to remain inside something as fragile as that. I've been feeding it a small but steady supply of god ki, and so far, it's been dormant. I think it's only just coming into consciousness... It's... Confused."
"I've been there..."
He says through a weary chuckle. She can empathize with his exhaustion. Physically, the Time Nest took a beating it has not received since Demigra's stunt after their wish for a savior only resulted in Trunks becoming that very chosen one by Shenron. Since then, neither have had much time to rest.
"Maybe we'll decide on what to do with it later. For now...!"
Trunks gives a premature bow as he speaks swiftly and formally..
"I have disgraced your authority and trust with my failings! The Time Nest could have been destroyed due to my gross negligence! Please! Punish me as you see f- GAH!"
He yelps as she pulls on his hair, nearly forcing him to fall on the ground.
"Graagh!! Shut your mouth! You're so stupid sometimes! How!?!"
"Wh-What're! Hey! Lemme go! Stop acting so childish-! Ah-!"
She releases him with a victorious grin as he slaps a hand over his mouth.
"That's much better! ~ Quit pretending like I'm above you!"
"B-But, your position-!"
"Is a title of little substance if my own subordinate is stronger than I am!"
She says with a dismissive roll of her wrist as she walks past him.
"Y'know, you're pretty cute as a girl. Think we could recruit that one? Ooh! Or that older one! He was so han-handy! Plenty strong too!"
She jokingly prods. Trunks rolls his eyes at her as he starts to follow.
"Ha ha, but I'd rather not have to deal with another me so soon."
"I'm tired! ~ I think I'll take myself, a quick nap before I fix the Time Nest."
He snaps at her, gobsmacked at her casual demeanor, a double take between her and the floating vial.
"What-?! I get it's secured-! But-! We still have so much to do! Don't we?"
She stops at the entrance to a hallway giving him a pout.
"And risk having you keel over from overworking? I'm not a tyrant like Bojack, and my worker's policy is way better than Freeza's, and speaking of? I need to make sure everything inside isn't a mess from earlier! Come along, since you wanna work so badly!"
He reluctantly obeys her command. He must have angered her from how she spoke. However, when he reaches a secluded room he never even knew existed, Chronoa shocks him further upon opening the door.
It is, bare. Just a lone stone slab with a simple futon on top, no pillows or sheets. No windows or lights. Someone as expressive, emotive, creative as her... All this time... Had such a dour dwelling.
"This is... Your room..."
"Help me with the bed, would you? I haven't used it in a long time. Just, go lay on it and see if it's still comfortable.
He knew it was not. How could it be? Fur pelts in caverns looked more inviting than this. However, though his face shows his worry, he does as she asks and sits on it.
"Hey, I said lay! Down on your back! Go on!"
She huffs as she throws her arms around. Seeing her act like that again is refreshing. He chuckles through his nose as he lays down. To his shock, it is comfortable, but it is Chronoa jumping on top of him that has him breathless. Their faces inches apart as they look within each other's eyes.
"S-Su-Supreme-!"
"Hey. I saw how you see me already. No need to hide it."
His face burns hotter than any attack he's suffered in his life. Her face flushes a deep pink as she glances to the side.
"Mortals and gods... Aren't allowed to mingle... It shouldn't even be possible..."
She then locks eyes with him again. A smile he so rarely sees, a smile exclusively for him.
"But you're always making the impossible, possible... And right now... You're just Trunks. I'm, just, Chronoa. We're... Dear to each other..."
"... Yeah. Yeah, we are."
He replies trying not to stammer his words. She hugs him, resting her head on his shoulder, their heartbeats slowing down together. Beating at different paces, bit by bit, bump by bump, two hearts beat together as one as he wraps his arms around her waist.
"... I'm glad you're here..."
"I'm glad you brought me."
"... If you wake up before I do... Don't leave me... I hate being alone."
"So do I..."