DB Multiverse
DBM Universe 14 (Cyborgs): One Way
Written by Foenidis
Adapted by Adamantine & TheOverlyMadHatter
Following the deaths of the Z Warriors as told in Twin Pain, Universes 12 and 14 had a few years in common before everything fell apart for the latter. What are the events that led to Trunks' victory in one, and to the reign of the Artificial Humans in the other?
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The loss of her aircraft was no big one in itself, since Bulma had long though of always keeping the capsule to an emergency vehicle on her person at all times, having sown one onto an item of clothing she'd be wearing. Ever since she'd been wearing it, the emergency capsule had been in the jacket she held dear. Hopefully these degenerates won't think to search her. For the time being, they didn't even seem to want to have her empty her pockets, a good sign… if not for them probably wanting to kill her after their business is done.
— "Sneaky one, this old bag!" said #17 as he joined the two women.
His twin sister was nonetheless bitter:
— "I love optimists! But I didn't think you'd be so stupid to promise us such great things without actually having any intention to hold true to your word. Tsk tsk tsk, really not nice of you!"
Bulma didn't even respond. She knew well that all attempts to justify herself would prove fruitless, not to mention she'd only make herself look ridiculous.
— "Let's drop it! We have better to do." said the boy in a joyous tone before once again disappearing within the entrails of the laboratory.
As Bulma pondered the intentions of her two dangerous companions, a sound of shattering glass and a quick cataract snapped her out of thought.
A few moments later, #17 reappeared, wearing gloves he'd probably kept in the satchel be wore around his belt, exhibiting the creature, freed from its incubator, by the tail.
The animal was alive, squirming feebly.
No doubt amused by its gooey complexion, the young man maliciously tossed it to his sister's feet, who backed away in disgust.
Bulma still wasn't sure regarding the creature's origin. The thing didn't look like anything she'd seen before. Though very much alive, the bug seemed as though it was struggling to coordinate its movements, before proceeding to crawl more than walk towards the spilled contents of the cooler. Once close enough, much to the surprise of the three witnesses to the scene, a stinger appeared from the extremity of its tail before it penetrated one of the stray cans of "Satan Energy Drink". Judging from the pulsing of the appendage, they guessed that the beast was emptying the contents of the can. Seemingly invigorated by the energy drink, the creature finally opened its eyes to the world that surrounded it. Its little head oscillated between the two twins.
— "No! Don't move…" whispered #17 to his female alter-ego as she was about to move away from the creature who was approaching her at the speed of a turtle.
« Fascinating! » thought Bulma. While the bug looked as though its fetal growth was incomplete, it looked as though the creature was capable of surviving outside of its incubator, not to mention capable of autonomy, and even of survival instinct.
But what did he want of the girl?
If he was already in search of maternal protection, it was strange that he would chose the hybrid with vital functions much less tangible than those of a being made entirely of flesh and blood.
#17 was likely motivated by the same curiosity to ask to see what the creature would do next.
The entirety of #18's face was twisting in utter disgust as the bug latched onto her calf to climb up her leg with an almost metallic sound. Suddenly, the larva's stinger whistled in the air before it attempted to stick itself into the flesh of its target!
Too weak to pierce the bionic flesh, the stinger was brandished again for anything attempt, a more brutal one this time!
Now seething red with rage, the "victim" did not tarry, and without regard for her clothes, she literally pulverized the vulgar creature in shot a point blank range.
— "Dirty insect!" she simply commented as she realized the condition of her tights and the top of her left boot before stomping on the scorched remains of the unfortunate animal in fit of rage.
The death of the one Dr. Gero had named Cell, his only creation that had been purely organic, the synthesis of complex work on genetics combined with molecular biology, results of a life and beyond's work, seemed to tick off #17 without knowing that his sister had just ensured their future in this world.
— "Oh no! Uncool. That thing would have made a nice house pet."
« Good riddance! » thought Bulma by reflex. That's one less creation of Dr. Gero's sick mind to cause harm to anyone! Though, her scientific spirit regretted not having the opportunity to further analyse the beast she'd suspected was genetically modified. She couldn't imagine that beneath the harmless appearance of the little bug was what could've been a threat to mankind greater than had ever been known, an evil next to which the artificial humans would look like saints.
How could one possibly imagine worse when there is so little hope?
Hope, Trunks… the construction of a second time machine, at best being able to bring him back, at worst, understanding what has happened to her son. Bulma's determination had just shot back up in spite of her dire circumstances, circumstances she had little chance of escaping with her life. In any case, should one of these two dimwits decide to kill her for any reason, there is nothing she could do to stop them. Might as well focus on the essential. One goal, and that is hope for escape, and hop is all that is left…
After all, she'd made it through up until now, and the likelihood that she would have to face these robotic challengers seemed to increase in the minds of the two idiotic adolescents.
Predators are opportunistic. That was a fact that didn't require vast knowledge in ethology to be known. Predators also like sometimes to toy with their prey, that too was established. These two in particular often displayed those truths. The offer of a new adversary could work very well in her favor, the scientist thought. Perhaps the situation wasn't as bad as it seemed, after all.
Having noticed that acting casual around those two young folks instead of offering them the status of ideal victim or of declared aggressor seemed to disarm their inclination towards cruelty, Trunks' mother did best she could to as if she were talking with old friends.
— "Well, then! This has been nice and all, but I have work to do. Building something capable of resisting your power even a little bit is no easy task. Might as well get to it right away. I would hate to try your patience." she declared in a playful tone.
Without waiting another second, she walking right in between the twin terrors to plunged into the laboratory she'd discovered the day before.
She had to balance on two large pipes on the ground in order to avoid the large puddle of green speckled with the shattered glass all over the interior of the room. With her shoes definitely dried behind the precious central unit, she whipped out of one of the pockets of the jacket that carried the scent so dear to her heart a small capsule box. She picked the one that contained a bipedal servant equipped with a keyboard and monitor, carrying several notes and various tools.
Without further delay, Bulma began her daunting task.
Decoding the access code to the command panel to shut the thing down, shutting off the generator's power, finding the secondary generator, getting rid of all the fairing's bolts and rivets, taking down the mechanical arms to make way for the heart of the machine… there was much work to do before she could even reach the components she was looking for.
The twins remained still for a long moment, watching and commenting on the evolution of her work, their remarks sometimes filled with humor, others filled with ferocious cynicism.
Then #18 was beginning to display signs of impatience. Her brother eventually was starting to get bored as well, in spite of the exchange of insults between he and his sister that would occur episodically. Every since their disagreement regarding Kulilin, their relationship had relatively changed; though always sticking together for the most part, they'd uncovered a bitter and sarcastic rhetoric between them and would playfully argue about everything and nothing.
Bulma almost felt sorry for them. They were, in a way, trapped with one another, in their exclusive relationship which grew more sterile as the years went by.
Her resentment for them quickly took over again, however.
« To hell with them.
It'll serve them right.
I hope they end up killing each other and rot in hell! » she thought, her nose in the entrails of the central unit, filled with a complex network of wires and printed circuitry.
Relieved, she saw the two go for the exit before returning to her work. It'll still be hours before she can fully extirpate the technological giant of the pieces essential to her own project. She was glad to know that the machine held true to the faith she had in it. She had already detected two of the needed components where she had expected them to be. Precious time was gained. If she was quick enough, she would be able to make her escape before the two robotic psychopaths' return from where she had hoped was far away from her to blow off some steam.
A number was constantly being repeated in her head, the one that signed the year of Trunks' destination: 758. The key was there! There resided her only chance to find her son, or at least a hint as to where, when he could be.
But how? What if it were a glitch or malfunction on the part of the machine that might have sent him to another time? Bulma had no idea yet, but if she had to, she would figure it out! For the time being, the priority was to get to the point from where her son would return… after all, it could just be a simple failure on the part of the machine could just be what's keeping him trapped in that other dimension.
Not only was it a question of her only son, and that of her love who had left her too soon, but also of the last remaining member of a powerful, legendary race, the only being able to combat the two genocidal terrors, and perhaps, one day, defeat them. He was humanity's ace in the hole, the one they could not afford to lose.
A few miles from what remained of Dr. Gero's laboratory, two figures seemed to have their exchange in the middle of the sky. With a good pair of binoculars, one could make out that floating up there was a young lady, blonde, and a young man with jet-black hair.
— "Such a nice woman, when you think about it. All the trouble she's putting herself through just to make us a new plaything… You can't deny that no one is as generous as those old ladies." said the girl, chuckling.
— "Yeah, it wouldn't be fair on our part to let her overexert herself to death, she's not as young as she used to be, after all… I say we show our elders a little more respect!" added the boy.
Each stretched their arms straight in the director of Dr. Gero's leveled hideout. The two's eyes met for a bit, both wearing an enigmatic grin on their lips, before laughing out as loud as they could, the kind of laugh you'd hear after a good joke and happy times.
As they laughed to their heart's content, a twin blinding burst of energy flew out of their respective hands to form a single blast a few yards away.
The energy blast covered the distance between their heavenly vantage point and the underground bunker within an instant, faster than the blink of an eye, and what little was left of the mountain exploded in the burst of a formidable eruption.
The two little dots in the sky flew away from the devastated site while joking about what their next destination could be. Not one nor the other even left the slightest hint of concern regarding the result of their act of destruction. What did it matter, after all?
Far away from here, in an another dimension, one known to us as Universe 17, a monster named Cell was also wreaking havoc of his own in the world of Man. This formidable creature imagined by a certain scientist known as Dr. Gero, whose mind had unquenchable thirst of destructive vengeance, was a killing machine who had completed his mutation cycle through the absorption of the last artificial humans created by his very own father, respectively designated by their code names, #17 and #18. Originally conceived to defeat a hero known as Son Goku, the creature resulting from the combination of cells taken from the most powerful of warriors known to the universe hadn't only inherited their power… Contaminated by the unwholesome megalomania a good number of them had, he massacred all those who dared stand against his tyranny with undisguised pleasure. In order to preserve the future of this world, one of his innumerable victims had come from another dimension to ensure Cell's defeat by means of a time machine. This fighter for justice, dead fighting for a universe that wasn't his, was called Trunks.
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