When the sparring session ended, the ruined wasteland lay cracked and smoking beneath their feet. Gohan stood with his chest rising and falling, arms loose but sharp eyes fixed on his student. Trunks stumbled back, trying to maintain composure, but the boy's body gave out. Gohan managed to drag himself and trunks toward the battered capsule corps house in before consciousness slipped from him.
Trunks collapsed, the last thing he felt was the thrum of his heartbeat — heavy, insistent, but stronger than yesterday.
The next morning, Trunks's eyes fluttered open. His entire body ached, muscles stiff as if every fiber had been torn and remade overnight. Yet under the pain, he felt something else: a deeper well of energy. He sat up slowly, flexing his fingers, sensing the faint golden spark simmering beneath his skin. I've grown again… I can feel it. This world takes everything, but it gives back in strength.
The smell of food wafted through the cramped underground shelter. He followed it, finding Bulma hunched over a makeshift stove, while Gohan leaned casually against the wall, arms folded.
"You're up," Bulma said with a tired smile, pushing a bowl of rice and vegetables toward him. "Thought you'd be out for another day with how hard Gohan pushed you."
The apocalypse is here, meat was rare and scarce.
Trunks winced as he sat down, but grinned faintly. "I'll manage. Feels like I could take on the world right now."
"Don't let that pride get to your head," Gohan said, his tone firm but not unkind. "You're stronger, yes. But we're still far from where we need to be. The Androids aren't opponents you can underestimate — not even for a second."
Bulma sighed, setting her utensils down. "Back before all this… before they appeared… people laughed, loved, and wasted time on silly things. Cities were alive with lights. Now? Every day feels borrowed." She looked at her son with a mixture of pride and sorrow. "You deserve to know what you're fighting for, Trunks. You're fighting for the world that used to exist."
Trunks lowered his eyes, letting the weight of her words sink in. A world I'll never truly know… but one I'll protect no matter what.
He did not if he reincarnated or transmigrated. Trunks memories were clear in his head.
The sparring continued for the next seven days.
Each clash was fiercer than the last, shockwaves tearing cracks into the earth, dust clouds rising like storm fronts over the desolate plains. Gohan held nothing back — his strikes sharp as blades, his movements honed by years of fighting alone. Trunks pushed himself to the brink, driven by frustration and determination. More than once, his knuckles split against Gohan's guard, blood trickling down his arms, but he refused to quit.
On the last day, the ground shook violently from one of their exchanges. Rocks split apart, and a nearby ruined structure collapsed in on itself. Both warriors froze, ki senses flaring.
"They're coming," Gohan whispered, his eyes narrowing toward the horizon.
The Androids.
Gohan has already developed his eyesight to an incredible amount.
Androids Ki cannot be sensed, so Gohan developed his eyes rigorously through battles with them.
They let him go most of the time; they considered him as entertainment, and he was no threat to them.
Gohan and Trunks quickly got out of their Super Saiyan forms and hid in the rubble.
For a moment, Trunks's breath caught in his throat as he saw them. But then, just as suddenly, the presences drifted away, uninterested.
"They must've thought it was just an earthquake," Gohan muttered, tension easing only slightly.
That night, Trunks lay awake. If they had come a little closer… if they had found us… Everything would've ended. We can't keep doing this forever. This way of training has risks and limits.
On the eighth day, Trunks finally voiced it. "We can't keep sparring like this. It's not enough anymore. My body feels stronger, but… it's risky and not worth the risk of dying.
Gohan studied him carefully. "So you've realized it too."
Trunks then suggested a new method.
It was time to move on to the next stage of his plan.
Trunks swallowed hard, then said the words he'd been holding back: "It's time for us to master Super Saiyan. Not just tapping into it during fights. We need to live in it. Eat, sleep, breathe — as Super Saiyans."
Bulma, listening from the corner, nearly dropped her tools. "You can't be serious. That form drains your body to its limits!"
"That's the point," Trunks replied, his voice sharp with conviction. "If we live in it long enough, our bodies will adapt. What feels like burning now… will become normal. That's the only way we'll close the gap."
Gohan was shocked; he never thought of it this way.
For a moment, silence hung between them. Then Gohan nodded slowly. " Your idea has merit. We are Saiyans, a warrior race. Our bodies will heal and will also increase our base strength as a result. This might also increase the multiplier for our base strength, mastering this form"
Gohan understood the principles pretty quickly; he was, after all, a genius too.
Thus began the next stage of their training.
The golden aura of Super Saiyan filled their house constantly, humming like a second heartbeat. At first, the energy burned — muscles cramped, minds clouded, anger rising too easily. Trunks struggled to even hold a conversation without his ki flaring violently it was hard to control his strength, while Gohan's sweat poured endlessly as his body resisted the constant strain.
But slowly, day by day, the fire dulled. The form became less of a raging storm and more of a steady flame. Tasks once mundane — eating, carrying supplies, even repairing broken walls — were now tests of will under the golden glow.
They were quickly able to use the exact amount of strength needed for each task, not using any excess.
The world outside continued to crumble under the Androids' rampage. Every time they heard distant explosions, every time smoke rose on the horizon, Gohan's fists clenched and his body trembled with the urge to fight. But Trunks held him back, his own resolve unshakable.
"Not yet," he reminded his mentor. "Not until we've mastered this. Not until we're truly ready."
Gohan would only nod, eyes burning with quiet fury. And together, they endured.
Three months passed.