The wind whispered gently atop The Lookout. The sky above was calm, painted in warm shades of orange as the sun began its descent. The world was safe—for now.
Trunks stood near the Time Capsule, his gloved hands resting by his sides as he gazed at the gathered warriors.
"Thank you, everyone," Trunks said, bowing slightly with a proud but respectful smile. "Because of all of you… my world finally has hope."
Bulma, arms crossed and trying to look cool, couldn't hide her misty eyes. "Hmph. Just be careful out there."
Vegeta gave no verbal response. He stood off to the side, arms folded, cape fluttering in the wind, his expression unreadable.
But as Trunks turned toward him and offered a respectful bow, Vegeta replied—not with words, but with a subtle nod. A gesture more meaningful than any speech.
Goku, hand behind his head, chuckled. "Take care, Trunks. And hey… when you get back, give those androids a good one for me."
Krillin stepped forward with a grin. "You're gonna do great. I can feel it."
Trunks smiled and turned to the others—Piccolo, Gohan, Raditz, Nappa, Tien, Yamcha, Roshi, Chiaotzu, and even Chi-Chi—each giving a wave, a nod, or a few words of encouragement. Android 18, quietly watching from afar, gave a faint smile before turning her gaze away.
With a deep breath, Trunks entered the capsule. The hatch sealed, and a low hum echoed through the air as golden energy surrounded the time pod.
A final flash of light—and he was gone.
Gray skies loomed over a broken city.
Buildings were twisted ruins, half-eaten by time and war. Wind howled through shattered windows and empty alleyways. The scent of ash lingered in the air.
But the silence was broken.
A gust of energy shot through the sky—Trunks had returned.
He stepped out of the capsule, breathing in the familiar air of his time, his eyes narrowed.
"This ends now."
He wasted no time. With a blur of movement, he shot into the sky, golden flames erupting around him as he flew toward a nearby explosion—his new scouter specially made to find Androids, had detected the familiar chaotic energy of the Androids.
Android 17 leaned against the husk of a broken police cruiser, laughing as smoke curled from a crater.
"You humans are so fragile. It's not even fun anymore."
Android 18 sat atop a wrecked building, legs crossed. "We're not here to play. Gero said wipe out resistance."
Then the sky above them shimmered gold.
A burst of energy slammed down like a meteor.
From the dust… Trunks emerged.
Not hesitant.
Not afraid.
Cold and resolute.
His aura pulsed in perfect control—no flaring rage, just focused devastation. This was not the Trunks who fled in fear years ago. This was a warrior honed by gods and legends.
17 scoffed. "You again? Guess you want to die twice."
Without a word, Trunks vanished.
Before 17 could blink, a fist slammed into his jaw, sending him crashing through a half-standing building. The wall exploded in a cloud of debris.
18 barely had time to react before Trunks was on her—his knee buried in her gut. She coughed up oil and hit the ground hard.
17 staggered to his feet, but Trunks appeared behind him.
"I've fought warriors that make you look like wind-up toys."
He drove his elbow into the back of 17's head—then spun and unsheathed his sword, slicing cleanly through the android's chest.
17's eyes widened. "Wait—!"
Trunks didn't hesitate.
"This is for my world."
He flared with golden light and unleashed a point-blank blast, obliterating 17 in a column of pure energy. The crater where he stood was scorched glass.
18 screamed, rushing at him in blind rage.
But Trunks didn't flinch.
She fired a volley of Ki blasts—Trunks swatted them aside effortlessly.
18 lunged, fist aimed at his head.
But Trunks caught her wrist.
His cold blue eyes met hers.
"I gave you a chance. In another timeline… you changed."
He twisted her arm, spun her midair, and drove a brutal kick into her back, launching her across the street. She slammed into a building, groaning.
He walked toward her, golden energy coiling around him like a storm.
"But not here."
She fired one desperate beam—but Trunks cut through it with his sword, then closed the gap in an instant.
With one clean slash, he destroyed her power core.
She dropped to her knees, sparks flying from her abdomen.
"W… why…?" she managed, barely coherent.
Trunks stood over her, sword glowing.
"Because mercy ended the moment you murdered our future."
He raised his hand, energy swirling.
And with a final beam, Android 18 was erased—no pain, no hesitation.
The sky cleared.
Trunks and future Bulma made an effort to rebuild the world. But only a few days after destroying the Androids a new threat awakened.
The sky over Future West City was beginning to turn blue again—clear and warm for the first time in years. The wind carried no scent of smoke, no echo of explosions. Trunks stood on a high plateau overlooking the ruins of the Capsule Corp labs, arms folded, the golden light of the setting sun dancing off his sword's hilt.
His mind was still processing everything—the defeat of the Androids, the peaceful expressions on the faces of the survivors, his mother smiling again without a hint of fear. But something… still lingered.
"No more threats," he told himself. "No more timelines falling apart. It's finally over."
But fate wasn't quite done.
In the dead of night, a quiet hum echoed within the remains of Dr. Gero's hidden lab beneath the rubble of West City. A grotesque organic cocoon peeled open, revealing a creature covered in a mix of green carapace and pulsing muscle. Long, dagger-like tail. Lifeless white eyes.
Imperfect Cell had awakened.
He stumbled out of his incubation pod, disoriented. He looked around the broken lab, then noticed… a silver glimmer just ahead.
"A time machine," he rasped.
It stood under a protective tarp, half covered in dust—Trunks' original Time Machine, once buried and abandoned in this timeline.
Cell's tail lashed with hunger.
"If I can travel back… I can absorb the Androids. Become perfect…"
He limped toward the machine, pressing the panel to open the hatch.
And then he froze.
A golden light exploded behind him.
"Step away from the time machine," Trunks said coldly, Super Saiyan aura humming around him like a controlled inferno.
Cell turned slowly. His body was underdeveloped. Imperfect. And instinctively… afraid.
"Y-You… Who are you?"
Trunks didn't answer. His piercing eyes locked on Cell with utter clarity. He drew his sword from his back.
"You don't belong here. And you never will."
"Wait—don't you understand? I'm you. I was created from your cells. I contain the DNA of all the greatest warriors—Vegeta, Piccolo, even Goku! I can bring balance—"
Trunks' sword was already glowing with Ki.
"I've heard that speech before. From a version of you far more dangerous than this. He died too."
Cell sneered, his pride flaring. "You can't defeat me in this form—!"
He charged.
But Trunks didn't flinch.
In a single blink, Trunks sidestepped Cell's clawed strike, spun around him, and delivered a devastating roundhouse to the side of his head. Cell tumbled across the debris-littered courtyard.
He stood up, body twitching.
"Why are you doing this?! I can evolve! I can become perfection itself—"
Trunks raised a single palm.
"That's the problem."
A brilliant beam of energy erupted from his hand—piercing Cell's torso clean through.
The monster gasped, coughing up dark fluid.
"You… fool… you don't… understand…"
Trunks flew above him, charging his final strike.
"I understand perfectly."
"Burning Slash!"
He cleaved downward with his sword, a wave of golden energy trailing behind the slash.
Cell screamed as the attack tore through him, slicing his body in half. His remains fell back to the ground, writhing… disintegrating into nothing.
Trunks watched in silence until there was nothing left.
No regeneration.
No cocoon.
No future threat.
Bulma looked up as Trunks walked in, his Super Saiyan form long deactivated. He looked calm… serene.
"You were out for a while," she said.
Trunks gave her a small smile. "I found something. Another creation of Gero's. Something called Cell."
Her eyes widened. "Did he—?"
"He's gone."
Bulma walked over and hugged him without hesitation.
For the first time since Trunks could remember… there was true peace.
The world slowly rebuilt itself.
Survivors came out of hiding.
Capsule Corp reopened its labs to help reestablish the power grid, water systems, and hospitals. Clean air. Open skies. Laughter.
And Trunks… stood atop a ridge, wind blowing through his hair. He stared at the city, not with a frown or worry…
…but with hope.
"This… is the future we fought for."
And the screen fades to black.
END