New Namek
"Master Gohan, I don't have any other wishes," Trunks said. "Why don't you take the last two?"
"Good. Not greedy, willing to grind, and you don't show off," Gohan chuckled. "The future of the Saiyans is looking at you, kid ha!"
He didn't intend to hog the wishes. Instead he looked up at the dragon. "Second wish: give Trunks the same Instant Transmission I use. Third wish: fortify Earth's planetary core to its maximum."
Moori relayed both wishes in fluid Namekian.
Trunks' throat tightened. "Master Gohan…"
"Relax. It's mostly so you don't keep showing up in my timeline to bug me," Gohan said, mouth hard, heart soft.
What he didn't add: if Trunks kept popping into the prime timeline, someone would eventually notice he was Bulma and Vegeta's kid. Butterfly effect, meet a very determined pair of scissors.
Vmm
Invisible power rippled. Trunks felt a new technique click into place in his mind. Far away, Earth's core shuddered and hardened; short of rule-type powers at the level of Angels and Destroyers, nothing was breaking that planet again.
"Your wishes are granted. Farewell," Porunga intoned. Light died; the seven golden orbs dimmed to stone.
"Thank you, Grand Elder Moori. One more favor," Gohan said. "Earth needs a Guardian. Namekians have always been a perfect fit. If one of yours takes the post, you can also restore Earth's Dragon Balls saves you a lot of trouble in the long run."
"Dende," Moori called into the crowd.
"Grand Elder!" Dende stepped forward grown now, no longer the small boy Gohan remembered.
"Go with them," Moori said. "You're Dragon Clan. Restoring Shenron will be simple for you."
"But…" Dende hesitated, the reluctance plain.
Gohan reprised the speech he'd once used on the other timeline's elders: "Take the post, and when you're tired of it you can step down. Have Gohan bring you back and appoint another. Generation after generation, Earth's Guardian stays Namekian. The title's small, perhaps, but it's still divine… and the merit that comes with it matters."
"…All right. I'll go to Earth," Dende agreed at last.
"Consider it training," Moori added, gentler. "When you return, my seat will be yours."
"Yes, Grand Elder," Dende said, still a little heartsore.
"Don't worry," Trunks cut in. "Earth's full of fun. I'll show you around."
With reassurances on every side, Dende left New Namek with them.
The Lookout
"Master Gohan… can I go back first?" Trunks was practically vibrating.
"What's the rush? Mai's revived; she's not going anywhere. Hold up I've got a few things to set," Gohan said, seeing right through him.
"I'm not rushing," Trunks lied, blushing to the ears.
"Mr. Popo!" Gohan called into the empty air.
Tap… tap… tap… The black-skinned attendant emerged from a colonnade. At the sight of Dende a spark lit his eyes and was gone.
"Mr. Popo, this is Dende. Dende Mr. Popo, attendant to every Guardian. If you get stuck, ask him," Gohan said.
"An honor," Dende bowed.
"Mm." Popo lifted a hand; a Guardian's Staff appeared from nothing. He placed it in Dende's hands. Knowledge and gentle divinity flooded Dende's mind.
"He's Dragon Clan can restore Shenron," Gohan added.
"Do you have a Shenron model?" Dende asked Popo. "If so, I can bring him back now."
"I do, I do." Popo moved in that odd, unhurried way that somehow devoured distance, and returned with the glass-cased model.
Meanwhile Trunks paced like a caged cat.
"All right, you can go," Gohan sighed. "Just don't do anything dumb. I'll find you in a bit and spare me any eye-searing scenes, please."
"We we're not even married yet!" Trunks yelped, beet red.
"Sure. Totally buying that."
"I'm going. Bye Dende, Mr. Popo, Master Gohan!" Trunks blurted and blinked away.
Dende pressed both palms toward the model. Hope and miracle yet not ki spooled from his hands. A lance of light shot skyward, split into seven, and raced across Earth. Scattered stones turned back to glossy orange Dragon Balls.
"Mr. Popo," Gohan said quietly, "I know you won't fight for them. But on the strength of bringing Dende, will you train Trunks a bit?"
"That I can do. Send him to me," Popo said, oddly pleased.
"Then I'll stop getting underfoot. Time travel's a capital offense, after all."
"No matter. I've erased your traces," Popo replied.
Gohan's gut tightened. Erased… and I didn't feel a thing. "Right. I'll be off."
He found Trunks easily.
The boy and Mai were in the middle of a kiss that would have steamed glass. If the buildings weren't all rubble, they wouldn't have held out this long.
"Ahem."
They sprang apart.
"You're fast," Trunks muttered, mortified.
"Any slower and shirts would be on the floor," Gohan deadpanned.
"They would not! Master Gohan, you " Trunks flushed scarlet. Mai buried her face in her… ahem… cover.
"Business," Gohan said, tone shifting. "This Earth is yours now. Keep your iron hot. Enemies come in waves. The planet's tougher, and you've got Instant Transmission. Beyond Earth there's the Supreme Kai, the God of Destruction, the Galactic Patrol go learn from them. Find Merus with the Patrol and have him put you through the wringer. But listen except for the Supreme Kai, the others are… delicate. Be respectful. No wisecracks."
(Somewhere on the Sacred World of the Kais: "Polite? To me?")
"I didn't know there were that many monsters out there," Trunks breathed. "I'll remember."
"I've done what I can. Hand over the time machine I'll return it myself. And don't build another. If the beings I just named notice, they won't go easy on you. Time-hopping is a crime."
"Then I… won't see you again?" Trunks asked, passing him the capsule.
"You've got a future to build. I'm just passing through. The Saiyan race needs you to, ah, proliferate." Gohan couldn't resist.
"Master Gohan!" Trunks spluttered. "J-just go!"
Mai hid even deeper.
Gohan laughed. "If you hit a crisis you absolutely can't handle, ask Mr. Popo for counsel. He won't fight, but he'll point you to a path. He's more mysterious than you think on par with the ones I warned you about."
"I'll remember."
"And when you've got a moment, go to the Lookout. I've already asked Popo to train you."
"Yes, Master Gohan."
"Good. And stop joyriding through time." Gohan tossed the capsule.
Pop the time machine expanded. He climbed in.
"Thank you," Trunks said, suddenly solemn.
"Remember what I told you. See you around."
Gohan pressed the switch. The machine winked out.
Inside the capsule's humming shell, Gohan watched the between a five-minute passage that felt like forever. To anyone outside, time travel looked instant. To the rider, it wasn't. Endless white. Now and then, a prismatic current of color flowed past like a river of glass.
Curiosity itched his fingers. If not for the risk, he'd have reached out to touch that rainbow stream.
Beep-beep… WARNING: POWER RESERVES LOW. POWER RESERVES LOW.
The machine shuddered hard.
"Great. Then punch us through!"
Beep-beep… POWER RESERVES LOW.
No AI. Just a siren. Gohan grimaced and hammered every switch on the panel.
Whip
The capsule tore free of the passage and dropped.
He popped the hatch.
A dead world stared back. Earth but silent, emptied. No wind, no birds, no hum of cities. No ki at all.
"What timeline is this?" Gohan whispered. "Where even humanity… doesn't exist?"
A cold prickle worked down his spine.
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