A/N: I'll be taking some creative liberties when I write this, which means I won't follow the History of Trunks movie too closely, if at all. I will, however, be incorporating everything that Mirai Trunks shared with Goku in the series, which means you're going to see my spin on how everyone died, as well as how Gohan survived the Android battle and the events that led up to Gohan's death. Main characters here are Gohan and Bulma (mostly Gohan), and almost all chapters will focus on their character development and how they cope without the rest of the Z-fighters. I'm writing from both Gohan and Bulma's POVs, because I write more freely in first-person narrative. I hope you enjoy it. I'm very excited to tell this story, and I can promise you this: I'm in this for the long run.

DISCLAIMER: This story contains disturbing content, including but not limited to: detailed character deaths, sexual situations, extreme violence, and drug interactions. Please don't read if you feel you cannot handle these things. Now, on a less serious, but equally important, note: I claim no rights to Dragonball Z and am not affiliated with its creators in any way. But that should be fairly obvious. After all, if I did own DBZ, Gohan would be totally bad ass. Great Saiyaman is NOT bad ass, IMO.



Today is my judgment day.

The day I have been avoiding for the past thirteen years. Avoiding, but never forgetting. I always knew it would come. It comes for everyone. And everyone succumbs to it, everyone gives in, one way, or another…

My father gave in.

She always said I was stronger than him, because I would never give in, I would never stop fighting. She was right about one thing--I never stopped fighting. But everybody succumbs. Everybody falls. I know this better than anyone, and I have been haunted by it since I was eight years old.

The numbness is setting in now.

It is a strange yet familiar sensation swimming through my body. There are bright lights flashing all around me, and I can no longer comprehend what they are or where they are coming from. My thoughts begin to stray and become more distant, and I feel as if I'm outside of myself, watching my body morph into something broken, unrecognizable, as ugly on the outside as I have felt on the inside for so, so long…

I think of my little brother and find solace knowing he is safe. If I could talk to him now, I know what I would say: Keep training, Lil' Bro. Keep getting stronger. Someday you will destroy them, but not now. You're not ready, not yet. You're not…

My vision is darkening, and yet everything seems so clear to me now. My day is coming.

It comes for everyone.