They tore through the stars. One moment, fists collided on the jagged surface of a frozen world locked in orbit around a dying star, shattering its crust like glass. The next, their silhouettes ripped across the gravity of a giant moon, cratering its surface until it fractured into a dozen tumbling fragments that spun silently into the dark.
The cosmos became theirs, but their eyes never wavered. They were locked upon one another—rage meeting rage, pride meeting pride, but beneath it… a mutual recognition that neither had ever faced a mirror so merciless before.
Blood spilled freely now. Future Gohan's cheek was split open, crimson droplets trailing like comets in the vacuum as he spun and launched a savage counterpunch into Black's jaw. Black staggered back, his lip torn, violet aura sparking violently. He licked the blood with a crooked smile.
"You mortals…" Black's voice was heavy with contempt, yet edged with something more primal. "You never learn. No matter how many times you're crushed beneath divinity, you crawl back. You gnaw at the heels of gods, like vermin convinced they deserve the feast."
Future Gohan panted, chest heaving, his Mystic form condensed so tightly it vibrated against his very skin like fire under glass. His eyes blazed white, no hesitation left.
"And you…" he spat, his voice raw. "You hide behind the word 'god' as if it means more than blood, more than loss. But I see you. You're no higher than me. No greater than the family I buried, the future I lost. You think yourself eternal? Then why do you bleed as I do?"
They clashed again. The sound echoed even in the silence of the void, like thunder made of metal grinding. They vanished, reappeared on Neptune's surface—the blue giant trembling beneath them as waves the size of continents erupted from the planet's depths.
Black caught Gohan's arm, twisted it, drove a knee into his ribs with such force that the crack echoed in Gohan's skull. Gohan roared through the pain, headbutting him in return, their blood mingling midair.
"You speak of loss," Black sneered, spitting blood. "I have seen countless timelines, countless universes. I've slaughtered millions who dared to cling to their pitiful notions of hope. Your grief, mortal, is nothing but a droplet in an ocean of despair. And yet you cling to it like it grants you power. Pathetic."
Gohan staggered, but his grin widened through the crimson dripping down his chin. "You're wrong. My grief is my power. Every scream I couldn't stop, every soul I failed to save—those are my gods. They drive me forward. You destroy to prove yourself eternal. I fight because I am finite."
Their fists collided again, sparks like supernovas blooming across the dark. The sheer force slingshotted them out of Neptune's orbit and into the burning corona of the sun. Neither hesitated. The unimaginable heat scorched their flesh instantly, skin blistering and burning away. But they did not slow. They fought inside the star, their bodies silhouettes against raging seas of plasma.
Every punch was agony, every grapple tore skin from muscle, yet neither faltered.
Black screamed, fury ripping from his throat:"You dare claim meaning in your mortality? You dare to place the fleeting above the eternal? You are nothing, Gohan. NOTHING but dust pretending to matter."
Gohan caught his fist, their bodies sinking deeper into the molten hell. His voice was hoarse, half-choked by blood, but unyielding."Then tell me… if I'm nothing… why do you bleed for me? Why does your eternity tremble before my nothingness?"
For the briefest flicker, Black's eyes widened—then narrowed with even deeper hatred. His aura exploded, tearing a cavern through the burning plasma around them.
They erupted from the sun's surface, flames trailing their bodies like cloaks. They tore across the void, smashing through asteroids, collapsing moons into rubble, until their warpath carved straight back toward Earth.
When they descended, the planet shuddered. Their return was marked by a sky torn in half, lightning devouring the horizon.
On the battlefield below, the Z-Warriors stirred. One by one, battered and broken, they rose again. Piccolo's cloak tattered, Gotenks snarling through bloodied teeth, Krillin shaking but standing nonetheless. They all looked skyward.
And there stood Vegeta. His body was ravaged, his armor shredded, but his eyes—those burning, indomitable eyes—fixed upon the heavens. Slowly, he raised his hand.
"Lend it," he growled. "All of it. Now."
Energy streamed toward him. From Krillin. From Piccolo. From the children. Even the wounded Earth itself seemed to thrum with resonance. The air vibrated as Vegeta's aura swelled, reaching beyond himself. It spread so fiercely that even Gohan and Black felt it in their clash, the resonance rattling their bones.
Future Gohan faltered for just a moment, eyes flicking to Vegeta. He landed near him, barely able to stand, collapsing to one knee at his side. His blood pooled beneath him, but his gaze was steady.
Above them, Gohan Black descended, body trembling with both exhaustion and unrelenting rage. Cuts crisscrossed his chest, his own blood dripping onto the broken ground. Yet his smirk remained.
"You mortals truly are pests. Clinging together like insects, thinking unity can defy the inevitable."
Future Gohan coughed, crimson spilling from his mouth, but his grin didn't falter. "Unity is the inevitable. It's the only thing that's ever stopped monsters like you."
The earth quaked as Gotenks roared, his aura flaring. He launched upward, binding Black in spiraling golden restraints—rings upon rings that dug into his flesh. Black thrashed, snarling, but the moment was bought.
Future Gohan rose, trembling, both hands cupped together as light began to swell between them. It took form—not just energy, but will. A dragon of blue flame, scales forged from every ounce of hope left in the broken warriors. Its eyes burned like stars.
"The Dragon of Hope…" Piccolo whispered, wide-eyed.
Beside him, Vegeta's aura detonated. For the briefest instant, his hair flared crimson, his scream shaking the earth. "FINAL GALICK GUN!"
Their powers merged, the dragon and the beam spiraling into one titanic blast that tore through the clouds, a pillar of defiance piercing the heavens.
But Black… Black was not done. With a roar, he shattered the restraints, his aura erupting in a storm of violet flame. He twisted his body, dodging the combined blast as it roared past him.
And in that instant, its trajectory shifted—straight toward Gotenks.
Time slowed. Gotenks' eyes widened in horror, his scream ripping through the battlefield.
But then—his scream changed reality. The very air split open, a rift tearing wide. The blast vanished into it, diverted from its path.
Piccolo's eyes widened in recognition. "A rift… like the Time Chamber…" His hands flashed, and another tear ripped into being—redirecting the blast upward, straight toward Black.
For a heartbeat, Black's eyes narrowed. He hovered, his violet ki swirling around him. He exhaled slowly, almost… calmly.
"You mortals… won. For now."
He extended his hands, tearing reality apart with sheer force. The redirected blast vanished into the wound he opened. With one final glare, his form blurred—vanishing into another rift, his speed so immense that only Vegeta and Future Gohan's broken, bloodied eyes could follow it.
And then he was gone.
Future Gohan's body trembled as he fell to one knee, blood dripping freely from his lips. He exhaled raggedly, his one good eye scanning the sky where the last remnants of Gohan Black's presence had disappeared into the rift. For a heartbeat, he thought his own heart might stop. Then, slowly, painfully, the realization struck him—
They had survived.
Vegeta, his chest heaving, his aura flickering unstable around him, managed to stand tall even as his legs threatened to buckle. He clenched his fists, gritting his teeth, but for once it wasn't rage in his expression—it was relief. The Prince of Saiyans let his aura fade, allowing silence to wrap around him.
And then it came.
"YEEES!" Gotenks roared with his usual childlike bravado, even though his limbs were shaking and sweat drenched his forehead. He threw his fists into the air, defiant and proud. "Told you we'd win! Who's the man?! Who's the—"
Before he could finish, his body flickered. The fusion unraveled in a burst of light, and suddenly the tiny forms of Goten and Trunks were kneeling in the dirt, gasping for air.
"We… we did it…" Trunks panted, coughing into his hand, eyes wide and sparkling. "Dad… Future Gohan… they really… they really—"
Goten didn't even finish his sentence. Tears spilled from his eyes as he collapsed onto the ground, laughing in pure joy. "We're alive… we're actually alive!"
The sound of footsteps echoed across the ruined battlefield. From the rubble and the shadows of destroyed buildings, familiar figures emerged. Bulma ran forward, her arms trembling as she stumbled past chunks of stone and twisted metal. Beside her, the older Bulma, weary and battle-worn from another future, moved slower but with equal determination.
"Trunks!" Future Bulma's voice cracked as she reached him. Her hands immediately cradled his face, tears flowing freely. "My boy… you're safe… you're still safe…"
Trunks leaned against her, exhausted but smiling through bloodied lips. "I told you… we'd make it, Mom…"
The younger Bulma pulled Vegeta into a tight embrace before he could even resist. "Don't you ever scare me like that again!" she shouted, though her tears betrayed her anger.
Vegeta stiffened at first, his pride unyielding. But slowly, quietly, his shoulders relaxed. He didn't answer, only let her hold him as his eyes stared past her, silently acknowledging both victory and something else—unfinished war.
From another corner, Chi-Chi rushed in, Videl right behind her. Their eyes fell immediately on Goten and Gohan.
"Goten!" Chi-Chi cried, pulling her son into her arms. "Oh thank goodness, oh thank goodness you're okay—look at you, you're hurt, you're all hurt—" Her voice broke into sobs.
Videl dropped to her knees beside Future Gohan. "Gohan… you did it…" Her hands trembled as they touched his shoulders. She was smiling, radiant, but her tears betrayed the fear she had carried all this time.
Future Gohan looked at her, weary but alive, and smiled faintly through cracked lips. "We did it together… all of us. That's the only reason I'm still standing."
Piccolo approached last. He didn't rush. He didn't cry. He simply stood among them all, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the field. For once, even he allowed the faintest curl of a smile to form. "…You did well. All of you."
And for the first time in what felt like ages, there was laughter. Weak, ragged, but real. Goten and Trunks tried to boast through broken teeth. Bulma scolded Vegeta while clinging to him as though he might vanish. Videl kept her hands on Gohan's shoulders, grounding herself in his survival. Chi-Chi cried into Goten's chest as though he were still a boy. Even Piccolo allowed himself to sit down, arms crossed, eyes closing in something that resembled peace.
For a while, it was enough. The war was over.
Senzu beans had been shared among the fighters, restoring their bodies though not erasing the memory of pain. Bandages wrapped those who refused magical healing. The warriors sat together in a circle, the chaos replaced by a fragile camaraderie.
Trunks leaned back against a stone, his arms crossed behind his head, eyes closed. "I still can't believe it… I thought for sure we were all done for."
Beside him, Goten nodded. "Me too. I thought… I thought we'd never see the sky again." His voice was quieter now, no longer boastful but filled with a child's honest relief.
Bulma, always the sharpest mind, tapped her chin thoughtfully as she sat near Vegeta. "Still… we need to think ahead. If he's really gone, we need to rebuild. And if he's not…" Her eyes flickered to Vegeta.
Vegeta's jaw tightened. He looked into the fire, silent for a moment. "He'll be back." His voice was low, certain. "That monster doesn't vanish forever. He retreats to grow stronger. And when he returns… we'll be ready."
Future Gohan, bandages around his torso, lifted his gaze from the flames. His eye was heavy but unyielding. "He's not done. I could feel it, even as he left. That wasn't defeat. It was… calculation."
Videl reached for his hand, squeezing it tightly. "Then what do we do?"
Gohan looked at her, then at the others. "We live. We train. We stay together. Whatever comes next… we won't face it divided."
Piccolo opened one eye, his arms still crossed. "…Wise words. But don't underestimate him. He has conviction, however twisted it may be. That conviction won't die easily."
The fire crackled in response, as though the universe itself agreed.
But for now, the heaviness faded under waves of laughter. Goten and Trunks sparred lightly until Chi-Chi scolded them again. Bulma argued with Vegeta about his recklessness, only to soften when he muttered about Saiyan pride. Videl leaned against Gohan, letting herself finally relax after endless fear. And Piccolo, though quiet, allowed the smallest smile to remain.