The underground shelter was even more crowded and oppressive than anyone had imagined.
Dim emergency lights flickered overhead, buzzing softly with unstable electricity.
Both sides of the narrow corridors were packed with supply crates, most of them marked with labels reading "Flammable" or "Hazardous Materials."
Pipes and cables covered every wall like exposed veins, keeping the underground refuge alive with its steady mechanical heartbeat.
Occasionally, a few survivors passed by.
Their patched-up clothes hung loosely from their thin bodies.
Their faces were pale and gaunt.
Their eyes were dull and lifeless.
Yet the moment they spotted Trunks, those lifeless eyes lit up with a tiny spark of hope.
"Master Trunks is back!"
"Thank goodness! He's safe!"
Trunks nodded politely to everyone as he led the group through the residential section before stopping in front of a massive steel door at the end of the passage.
A hand-painted sign hung crookedly above it.
Laboratory. Unauthorized Entry Forbidden. (Especially Anyone Trying to Steal My Instant Noodles.)
The rough handwriting was wild and messy.
It carried the unmistakable personality of its owner.
"Mom's inside."
Trunks took a deep breath before pressing the intercom beside the door.
"Mom, I'm back."
"And... I brought some guests."
Bzzzt...
"I know. Come in."
"If they're here asking for food, tell them to get lost. Today's rations are already gone."
A tired, slightly hoarse, yet still energetic female voice echoed through the speaker.
The heavy metal door slowly slid open.
A strong aroma of coffee mixed with the smell of burning solder poured out.
The laboratory looked more like a scrapyard than a research facility.
Blueprints were scattered everywhere.
Mountains of mechanical parts covered every available surface.
At the center of the room stood an enormous workbench.
Someone was completely absorbed in repairing a maze of tangled circuits.
It was Future Bulma.
She wore a grease-stained work vest with a plaid shirt tied around her waist.
Her once-famous blue hair had been hastily tied into a messy ponytail.
Several strands of silver had already appeared.
Wearing protective goggles, she held a welding torch as she carefully repaired what appeared to be an energy core.
Bright sparks flew through the air.
They briefly illuminated the wrinkles on her cheeks and the dark circles beneath her exhausted eyes.
She was no longer the pampered heiress of Capsule Corporation.
She was a survivor.
A warrior who had spent years fighting against the end of the world.
"Trunks."
"How's the fuel collection for the time machine going?"
Bulma didn't even look up.
Her voice was filled with exhaustion.
"If it isn't enough, I just finished improving a new compression unit. It might be able to..."
"We don't need the fuel anymore, Mom."
Trunks' voice trembled.
Bulma's hands stopped moving.
She pushed her goggles onto her forehead, revealing bloodshot eyes as she turned around in confusion.
"We don't?"
"What do you mean?"
"Don't tell me you've given up..."
Her welding torch slipped from her hand.
Clang.
It crashed onto the floor.
Because she had finally seen the people standing behind Trunks.
A man in an orange gi scratching his head with his familiar carefree smile.
A tall green Namekian standing with his arms crossed.
And...
The short man standing quietly in the shadows with crossed arms and an awkward expression.
Time seemed to freeze.
Bulma's mouth slowly fell open.
Her body became as rigid as stone.
She even forgot how to breathe.
She simply stared at the people who should have died over a decade ago.
"No..."
"It has to be a hallucination..."
She muttered to herself while reaching toward her coffee cup with trembling fingers.
"I must be working too hard..."
"I'm actually seeing Goku..."
"And even that jerk Vegeta..."
"Hey, Bulma!"
Goku waved enthusiastically.
"Long time no see!"
"You look..."
"...uh..."
"...a little older."
Thud!
Piccolo punched Goku squarely on the head.
"Shut up, idiot."
The sound was far too real.
So real that Bulma could no longer convince herself she was dreaming.
Her tears burst forth without warning.
Like a dam collapsing.
"Goku...?"
She staggered forward.
Slowly raising a roughened hand, she reached toward his face.
But she hesitated.
Afraid he would disappear the moment she touched him.
"Is it really you?"
"Didn't you..."
"...die from the heart virus?"
"Hehe."
"That was the future me."
Goku laughed while letting Bulma pinch his cheek.
"I'm the Goku from the past."
"Trunks brought us here."
"The past..."
Bulma stood dazed for a moment.
Then her eyes drifted past Goku.
They landed on the silent man behind him.
Vegeta.
He was still young.
Still wearing that familiar battle armor.
Still carrying the same impatient expression.
Bulma's lips trembled.
"You..."
Without warning, she rushed toward him, reaching for his collar.
Vegeta jumped in surprise.
His first instinct was to dodge.
Before either of them could react...
A large figure stepped between them.
Blocking the light.
"Ahem."
"I know interrupting an emotional reunion is pretty rude..."
Krillin stepped forward with a grin.
He pointed proudly at his smooth bald head.
"Bulma."
"Did you forget about me?"
Bulma blinked.
Tears still clung to her eyelashes.
She carefully looked him up and down.
The man before her stood well over six feet tall.
His muscles bulged like carved granite.
An overwhelming aura radiated from every inch of his body.
"You..."
"Who are you?"
She looked completely confused.
"Did Tien shave off his third eye?"
Krillin froze.
"..."
"I'm Krillin!"
"Krillin!"
He pointed desperately at himself.
"I don't even have a nose!"
"Isn't that obvious enough?!"
"Krillin?!"
Bulma's eyes nearly popped out of her head.
"No way!"
"Since when are you this tall?!"
"And those muscles..."
"What did you eat?"
"Mutant protein?"
"Or did you undergo genetic enhancement?!"
In her memories, Krillin had always been short.
A hardworking Earthling whose strength, while respectable, had obvious limits.
The towering, muscular powerhouse standing before her looked like someone who could punch a planet apart.
It completely shattered everything she thought she knew.
"Well..."
"That's a long story."
Krillin proudly flexed his biceps.
"The short version is..."
"I'm ridiculously strong now."
"So strong that I crushed Androids 17 and 18 like bugs."
"And in my world..."
"I'm your husband."
"W... What?!"
Bulma's mind completely shut down.
"H-He..."
"I..."
She instinctively looked Krillin over again.
Tall.
Handsome.
Bald.
No nose.
...
Definitely... different.
For some inexplicable reason, her cheeks turned slightly pink.
A strange expression crossed her face.
Ignoring everything else, she grabbed Trunks by the arm.
"Trunks..."
"Is..."
"Is what he said true?"
"And..."
"The Androids..."
"They're really gone?"
Trunks nodded firmly.
His own eyes filled with tears.
"Yes, Mom."
"They're gone."
"Forever."
"The nightmare is finally over."
Bulma stood frozen.
Then, little by little, her legs gave way.
She collapsed onto the floor.
Thirteen years.
Thirteen years of fear.
Thirteen years of endurance.
Thirteen years of despair.
Everything she had carried...
Finally broke free.
"Thank goodness..."
"Sob..."
"Thank goodness..."
She buried her face in her hands and cried like a child.
This time...
Not from grief.
But from the overwhelming joy of surviving the impossible.
"Alright."
"Reunion time is over."
Krillin clapped his hands before gently pulling Dende out from behind him.
"Bulma."
"The Androids are gone."
"But this world still needs to be repaired."
"Allow me to introduce Earth's new Guardian."
"Dende."
Dende shyly bowed.
"H-Hello."
Bulma looked at the small Namekian.
Hope slowly returned to her eyes.
"The Guardian..."
"You mean..."
"The Dragon Balls can come back?"
"Of course."
Krillin smiled confidently as he opened his system interface.
[Mission: Rebuild the World]
[Step Two: The Return of Shenron]
Objective: Help Dende create a Dragon God that surpasses the original Shenron and restore the Dragon Balls.
Reward: One Divine Wish, exclusive to the host.
"As long as I have the materials..."
"I can make them."
Dende nodded confidently.
"And this time..."
"I'll create an even stronger Shenron."
"No problem!"
Bulma quickly wiped away her tears.
In an instant, the determined genius scientist had returned.
"We may be living in ruins..."
"But I have more than enough high-purity memory alloy and energy crystals."
"Come with me!"
She stood up.
The wrinkles around her eyes remained.
Yet the vitality burning inside her made her seem ten years younger.
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