Tap. Tap. Tap.
The two Android siblings walked to the edge of the crater, hearing the despair in Gohan's voice.
"Oh? Beaten so badly you're crying for your daddy?" 17's lips curled into a smirk.
"In Dr. Gero's original orders, we were supposed to kill your father ourselves. Who would have thought he'd be so short-lived? Dying of heart disease, of all things."
18 jumped down into the crater and ground her heel into Gohan's head. "Son Gohan... aren't you the son of Goku?" she asked coldly. "We gave you so much time to grow, yet you're still this pathetic."
"Cough... hack..." Gohan spat out blood, his injuries so severe he could no longer form words.
17 joined her in the pit, shaking his head. "You guys are just too weak. I didn't have any fun today at all. I'm done playing with you."
"If this trash can't provide any entertainment, there's no point in keeping them around," 18 said, lifting her foot. She grabbed Gohan by the collar with one hand and tossed him high into the air. "Finish it, 17."
"Hahaha! If you insist, 18, then I won't hold back." 17 raised his hand, aiming at the falling Gohan. A sphere of energy, crackling with terrifying power, formed in his palm. "Die."
Whoosh!
As Gohan began his final descent, 17 unleashed the blast.
Dad... Father... I'm coming to see you. I hope you're still waiting in the Otherworld... Gohan closed his eyes in resignation, waiting for the blast to vaporize him.
But at that exact split second, the air beside him shimmered, and two figures appeared: Gran and Bulma.
Gran reached out and caught the incoming energy ball. His fingers closed around it with a casual squeeze.
Thump.
The explosion wasn't the deafening roar everyone expected. Instead, it was a muffled pop, like a dud firework. Wisps of blue smoke drifted through Gran's fingers. His effortless silhouette against the sky was so striking that Bulma's eyes practically turned into hearts.
"Who are you?!"
The sudden appearance of a stranger catching a lethal blast mid-air sent a jolt of alarm through the two Androids.
Gran didn't even grant them a glance. He shifted his attention to Gohan, whom he was now holding by the tunic. Gohan had already slipped into unconsciousness.
"It's a tragedy," Gran sighed. "To possess such terrifying latent potential, only to end up a broken man because of a mother's forced dream of scholarship."
"Lord Gran, do you know him?" Bulma asked. The man in Gran's grip looked strangely familiar to her.
"You know him, too."
"I do?" Bulma looked closer, falling into deep thought.
She knew they were on an alternate Earth, but she wasn't sure of the exact date. Looking at the man's tattered orange gi, she could tell he was clearly of the Turtle School—like Goku and Krillin—but she had never seen this man before.
"I told you before," Gran prompted as he saw her struggling. "He has immense talent, but it was stifled by his mother's dream of him becoming a scholar."
Boom—!
The realization hit Bulma like a physical blow. Her pupils shrank as a wave of shock washed over her.
She remembered a year ago, when Gran had taken her to Mount Paozu and asked Goku and Chi-Chi: 'If Son Gohan were to die one day because of this dream of being a scholar, could you accept that?'
"He's... he's Gohan!" Bulma gasped, covering her mouth with her hands.
She couldn't believe it. This battle-scarred, one-armed man was the same baby Gohan from her own timeline.
"Yes. This is Gohan."
"But how is this possible?" Bulma's eyes welled with tears. In that moment, she finally understood why Gran had issued that warning. In another world, Gohan really would face death because of that dream.
"Nothing is impossible," Gran said, looking at the broken warrior in his hand. "But you can't entirely blame him. The Kakarot of this timeline died long ago. Even without the scholar dream, without Kakarot's guidance, Gohan's fate was likely sealed."
"Goku... died here?" Tears finally spilled over. She thought of all her memories with Goku. If he were alive, there was no way he would let his son be mutilated like this, or let the world fall into such ruin. "Lord Gran, what exactly happened here?"
"It's complicated. You'll understand soon enough."
Gran turned his cold gaze toward the ground. Down in the crater, 17 and 18 had regained their composure.
"Well, that was a surprise," 17 said, smirking as he looked up. "I didn't think there were any strong ones left hiding on this planet. This might be interesting after all!"
18 narrowed her eyes at the woman beside Gran. "17, look at that woman. Doesn't she look like Bulma from Capsule Corp?"
"She does... though she looks a lot younger." 17 walked over to the fallen Trunks, planting his foot firmly on the boy's head. He looked up with a wicked grin. "Hey, blue-haired lady! Are you Bulma? If so, take a look at who's under my boot."
He didn't care why she looked young; he just saw a new way to play. Bulma looked down, seeing a young boy pinned to the dirt. He had blue hair just like hers. He was face down, his life force so faint it was nearly undetectable. He was seconds away from death.
"Lord Gran, who is he—?"
Before she could finish the question, Gran and Gohan vanished from the sky.
The Androids tensed up immediately.
BOOM!
Gran reappeared right next to 17. A massive shockwave erupted from his body. The force of the kiai was so immense that 17 was sent hurtling thousands of miles away in the blink of an eye.
"17!" 18 shrieked in rage. She raised her hand to fire a blast at Gran, but—
BOOM!
Another shockwave. 18 followed her brother, blasted out of the ruins and disappeared over the horizon.
"To me, they are nothing more than ants," Gran said as he laid Gohan gently on the ground. "If I wanted them dead, I'd only need to move a finger. However..."
He pulled two Senzu beans from a pouch at his waist, crushed them into a fine powder, and knelt to feed them to Gohan and the boy. "I imagine you'll want to settle this score yourselves."
Bulma landed beside him, her breathing still shaky. "Lord Gran... who is the boy?"
For some reason, she felt an overwhelming sense of kinship with this blue-haired teenager. It was an instinct she couldn't explain.
"Him?" Gran looked at Trunks, then back at Bulma. His lip twitched. "I'm not sure if you're going to believe me."
Bulma felt a sudden premonition. "Lord Gran, I'll believe anything you say."
Just as Gran was about to reveal the truth, the boy's eyes snapped open. The Senzu bean had restored him to full health instantly. He saw the woman standing over him and cried out:
"Mom!"
The word hit Bulma like a tidal wave. She knew Gohan was from the future, and she was the only woman in these ruins. If he was calling her 'Mom,' then this boy... was her future son.
"I... I have a son in the future?" Bulma's world was spinning.
"Huh? Mom, why do you look so young all of a sudden?" Trunks sat up, looking confused. He was only about fourteen, not quite reaching Bulma's shoulder yet.
"Lord Gran... this... this is..." Bulma stumbled back, completely overwhelmed.
Nearby, Gohan also sat up, his missing arm having regrown thanks to the Senzu bean's magical properties.
He immediately tensed for battle, but seeing the Androids gone and a strange man standing with a young version of Bulma, he paused. He noticed the confusion in the air and chose to stay quiet for a moment.
"He's your son," Gran confirmed, standing up and nodding at Bulma. "Or rather, he's the son of Bulma from this timeline."
Bulma felt as though her brain had been short-circuited. No wonder Gran had asked if she'd believe him.
"Then... who is his father?!" she asked urgently.
"Mom, what's wrong with you? How could you forget Dad?" Trunks asked, scratching his head.
Gohan, however, narrowed his eyes. He had caught the word "timeline."
His mentor, the Bulma of his world, had spoken of building a machine to travel back in time and change the future. Could it be that these two weren't from his era at all?
"Auntie Bulma!" Gohan called out.
The group's attention shifted to him.
"Auntie?" Bulma pointed at herself, then realized—of course. If this were an adult Gohan, calling her 'Auntie' was perfectly natural.
"Gohan! Are you okay? Does it still hurt?" Bulma rushed to his side, checking him for lingering injuries.
Gohan's eyes grew misty. It didn't matter what era she was from; Auntie Bulma was always the same. "I'm... I'm fine now." He took a deep breath.
"Auntie Bulma, are you... The Bulma from the past?"
"The past?" Bulma shook her head. "That's not quite right. You should say I'm the Bulma from a 'past timeline.'"
She knew the mechanics of her own machine. She hadn't traveled back in time; she had traveled across the space-time rift.
"So you really aren't our Auntie Bulma!" Gohan's eyes went wide. "But why do you say 'timeline' and not 'time'?"
"Wait," Gohan continued, confused. "The Auntie Bulma here said she wanted to go back to the past to change our future."
"Change the future?" Bulma shook her head.
"I don't know why she thinks that, but mortals can't truly change their own past. Even if you travel back, you aren't changing your own history; you're just creating a new, separate timeline." She frowned.
"I don't get it. Even in a different world, my scientific mind should be top-tier. Why hasn't she realized the truth of the time paradox?"
Gran understood, even if Bulma didn't. The Bulma of this world was desperate. If he hadn't intervened, Gohan and Trunks would be dead, leaving her utterly alone.
In that kind of despair, even a slim hope of changing things was worth clinging to, regardless of the science.
"Gohan, Mom, what are you two talking about?" Trunks asked, lost.
"Trunks... I'm sorry, but she isn't your mother," Gohan said gently. He wasn't a scientist, but he was well-educated and understood the basics of the paradox.
"No! She looks exactly like my mom! How could she not be?" the fourteen-year-old Trunks insisted, shaking his head.
Unlike his counterpart in other stories, this Trunks had grown up in constant war and had never had time for a formal scientific education. He genuinely believed that changing the past would fix his world.
"Your name is Trunks, right?" Bulma looked at him softly. She felt that strange warmth again. "Is your mother still alive?"
"Yes... She's at home waiting for us," Trunks said, his voice trembling as he realized something was very wrong.
"And your father... who is he?" Bulma finally asked the question that had been burning in her mind.
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