After a few days of peace
It had been a quiet morning at Capsule Corp. The Z Fighters had taken a short break, each retreating to their corners of the compound to rest or train lightly. Goku was meditating with Gohan. Piccolo stood atop the roof, eyes closed in thought. Bulma was tending to the recovery capsule that held Android 16. His mechanical parts were fixed, they just had to wait and regrow the tissues on his head.
And Trunks had finally found what he was looking for.
Android 18 was in the courtyard, sipping tea. She had grown more relaxed over the past few days, and while her expression remained distant, she hadn't caused any trouble. That alone was enough to confuse Trunks. How could she be so... normal?
He landed roughly, boots slamming onto the pavement, startling her. She turned toward him slowly, unfazed.
"You," Trunks said sharply, stepping closer. "How can you walk around so casually? Like none of it happened?"
18 raised an eyebrow. "What exactly are you talking about?"
"My world. My future. You and your brother turned it into a wasteland!" Trunks shouted, voice thick with emotion.
18 stood slowly, placing her cup aside. "I'm not your timeline's 18."
"You're still her," Trunks growled. "The same face. The same power. You killed everyone I ever cared about."
"I haven't hurt anyone here."
"That's not good enough!"
He went Super Saiyan in a flash of golden energy, the sudden surge of power shaking the compound. The sky above rippled as his energy flared.
In that moment, Android 18 didn't move. She stared back, not with fear, but with disappointment. "So what, you're going to kill me?"
Trunks raised a hand, glowing with charged energy—
—but it never landed.
A red aura surged between them as Krillin appeared, Kaioken x20 raging across his form. He grabbed Trunks' wrist and held it in place.
"Step down, Trunks."
"You're defending her?!" Trunks spat. "Again?!"
"I don't know the version of her you fought," Krillin said, eyes locked. "But I know this one. And she's not a monster."
"You don't know what you're doing."
"I know exactly what I'm doing."
Their energy clashed, stirring up the wind around them. But Trunks didn't push further. He saw it—Krillin's unwavering eyes. The conviction in his stance. The fire of someone who had already made his choice.
Trunks gritted his teeth and dropped his energy. "This... isn't right. You're all blind."
"Maybe," Krillin said. "Or maybe this world just has a chance to do things differently."
18 remained silent. But her eyes never left Krillin.
Later, back inside Capsule Corp, the atmosphere was tense.
"Where's 18?" Goku asked, noticing her absence.
Krillin frowned. "She's gone."
"What do you mean gone?" Piccolo narrowed his eyes.
"She left a note saying she was leaving. Trunks confronted her. I stopped it from escalating, but... I think she felt like she didn't belong anymore."
Gohan lowered his head. "We should've talked to her. We didn't even give her a chance."
"She doesn't have a Ki signature," Piccolo said. "We'll have a hard time tracking her."
Everyone grew silent.
"She'll be alright," Krillin said, trying to sound confident. "She's smart. She can hide."
"But Cell is still out there," Goku reminded him. "He's after her."
"That's why we can't waste time," Vegeta said, entering the room with arms crossed. His eyes immediately locked onto Trunks.
"You. With me. Now."
Trunks looked up in surprise. "Huh?"
"We're going into the Hyperbolic Time Chamber."
Goku raised a brow. "You're not going to ask?"
"I'm not in the mood for asking," Vegeta said flatly. "If he's going to carry the name Saiyan and talk about justice, then he better be strong enough to back it up."
"You're taking Trunks?" Goku asked.
"Yes," Vegeta replied. "He needs to see what real training looks like. Maybe then he'll learn not to lash out like a child."
Trunks hesitated but clenched his fists and nodded. "I'll go."
"Don't slow me down," Vegeta said, turning on his heel and waiting for Goku to open a portal then entering, which surprised Trunks.
Trunks took one last glance at the others, then followed.
As the two Saiyans vanished into the portal, Krillin remained seated, staring at the spot where 18 had stood earlier.
"We need to find her," he said softly. "Before Cell does."
Everyone nodded.
They still had time—but how much, no one knew.
The massive white void of the Hyperbolic Time Chamber stretched endlessly, like a blank canvas upon which only strength could be painted. Silence echoed around the Capsule Corp tent at the chamber's entrance—an oasis within a brutal world. The only sounds that broke the emptiness were the grunts, clashes, and occasional explosions of raw energy.
Inside, Vegeta stood firm, arms crossed, watching Trunks pant heavily, his golden hair flaring wildly as he held onto his Super Saiyan form.
Vegeta's gaze narrowed."Tch. You're wasting energy again."
Trunks clenched his fists. "I'm doing my best!"
"No, you're not," Vegeta snapped. "You're flailing. Super Saiyan is not a tantrum. You think rage alone will let you surpass me? You're deluding yourself, boy."
With a yell, Trunks rushed forward again. His speed cracked the air, fists aiming for his father's face.
But Vegeta didn't move.
WHAM!
A brutal backhand sent Trunks skidding across the white tiles, bouncing twice before he tumbled to a stop.
"GAAAH!" Trunks slammed the ground in frustration, sparks flaring around him. "Why can't I land a single hit?!"
Vegeta finally stepped forward, his voice low but intense. "Because you don't understand what it takes to surpass limits."
Trunks slowly looked up, lips bleeding, eyes fierce with frustration.
"You think your enemies will give you time to transform? That you can just scream louder and hope it works?" Vegeta pointed to his chest. "Super Saiyan isn't a powerup—it's a state. A controlled, precise, burning storm. And you haven't mastered it."
He powered up slightly—just enough for his golden aura to flash.
"Stay transformed. For days. Weeks, if you must. Sleep in it. Eat in it. Breathe it. Master it so completely it becomes second nature. Only then will you begin to improve."
Trunks blinked. "Stay Super Saiyan… always?"
Vegeta turned. "You think Kakarot became strong by accident? I watched him. That idiot lives in the form when he trains now. The moment I realized that, I knew we had no time to waste."
He looked over his shoulder. "But I won't hold your hand. You're my son. Act like it."
The weight of his father's words crushed Trunks more than any blow. But somewhere, under the pain, the shame… was clarity.
He stood, wobbling a bit. Then focused his breath. Golden sparks danced at his feet.
"Alright," he said, voice steady. "I'll master it."
Weeks passed inside the chamber.
Each day began with a storm of fists. Each night ended in blood, bruises, and stubborn silence. Vegeta offered no praise, no encouragement. Only harsh truth and harder training.
But Trunks grew.
He stopped shouting to transform. He stopped burning through Ki with every blow. His movements became sharper. His aura thinner—but stronger. Controlled.
And one day, as the two clashed in mid-air, their fists collided in equal power. Boom!
Vegeta grinned. "Finally. You're starting to fight like a Saiyan."
Later, during a break…
Trunks leaned on a pillar, breathing calmly, golden hair now glowing quietly as though it belonged on him.
Vegeta sat cross-legged, arms folded. "Tell me… why are you so obsessed with killing that woman? 18."
Trunks looked down. "She… she wasn't like this in my timeline. She and 17 destroyed everything. Killed everyone. There was no mercy."
Vegeta closed his eyes. "That future no longer matters. You've already changed everything just by being here. But if you can't separate your pain from your power, you'll always be shackled."
Trunks said nothing, but the words dug deep.
More time passed.
Vegeta began pushing his own limits now. Their spars lit up the white void, echoing with thunderous impacts. Their bond sharpened—still harsh, but stronger.
Vegeta didn't say it aloud, but he saw it. Trunks was becoming a warrior. Not a boy shaped by tragedy. A true Saiyan.
And at night, when Trunks lay sleeping, still glowing faintly with golden Ki, Vegeta would stand watch.
He'd whisper once, just once—too soft for anyone to hear:
"You've done well, son."
Outside, nearly a day had passed. Inside… a year of growth. A year of fire.
And now, the door of the Hyperbolic Time Chamber creaked open.
The white light poured out… and from the blinding fog, two figures stepped forth.
Vegeta, confident and calm.
And Trunks, Super Saiyan—his aura calm, his eyes sharp.
Stronger. Faster. Focused.
The world had changed.
And now, so had they.