Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Dragon Ball: Chaotic Future ❯ Epilogue: "It's time to go our separate ways..." ( Epilogue )

I DO NOT OWN DRAGON BALL Z OR ANY RACES, PLANETS, OR CHARACTERS RELATED TO IT. GALDRIA, HEVA, TIRIS, IQUELA, MIURA, ZELLIS, SETH, CLEF, HANZO, TWILIGHT AND ALL RELATED CHARACTERS, RACES, OR PLANETS WERE ALL CREATED BY ME.

 

 

 

Dragon Ball:

Chaotic Future

 

EPILOGUE

 

“It's time to go our separate ways…”

 

 

 

The people slowly returned.

 

Within three days of Kirien and Kalen's defeat, the displaced citizens of West City began to slowly filter back into the ruins of their homes, none of them voicing any complaints. These were people who had been forged in the flames of conflict, and after having been terrorized by Gero's androids for nearly two decades, the inhabitants of planet Earth had learned to take whatever came, to weather any storm, and to simply be grateful to be alive. Rough shelters, shanties, and tents sprang up around the ruined city, forming a small yet thriving community as everyone prepared for the inevitable task of reconstruction, a facet of life that they had become all too accustomed to.

 

In one of the shanty-town's few Capsule houses, Bulma tended to the wounds of her son and Gabriel, who had finally regained consciousness nearly two days after their collapse. Both young men had been beaten to within an inch of their lives, and it would be a long, long time before either of them were fit to do anything other than rest. After everything that they'd been through in the past several months, Gabriel and Trunks were more than happy to do so.

 

Miura was another matter entirely, however. He hadn't spoken a single word since the victory against Kalen and Kirien, and who could blame him? Clef, who had been his first true mentor, had been destroyed right before his very eyes, and he'd been helpless to rescue him. His half-brother, his only living relative in the entire universe, had been killed by a woman that Miura had considered a valuable ally. It seemed that, on top of all the other losses he'd been forced to endure, the passing of his dear sister and his beloved Princess had simply broken Miura's spirit. But there was something else… Something that Miura had yet to come to terms with.

 

When Kirien had taken her final breath, the crossbreed warrior had felt an incredible amount of his power die with her, for with the portal closed and no other living Genjins in this universe, Miura's body was unable to sustain that portion of his once-substantial strength. Left now with his diminished Galdrian and Saiyan powers, Miura felt somehow… inadequate. And, deep within his numb mind, the former Galdrian Emperor held another secret fear: if Kirien had genetically altered him to be unable to harm her, then how many other secret modifications had been made? Could he be trusted at all? Had Kirien somehow programmed him to go mad if and when she was ever destroyed? These questions gnawed ceaselessly away at Miura's already fragile psyche, pushing him to a breaking point.

 

“Will he be okay?” Gabriel asked Bulma as she set a tray of meager rations on the small table beside his bed. The blue-haired woman didn't have to ask who Gabriel was talking about, for the young Prince had been very worried about Miura's condition since regaining consciousness days before. “I mean… Is he going to snap out of this or what?”

 

“I can't say,” Bulma confessed, walking to the other side of the room to deposit a similar tray of food beside Trunks' bed. “He's still in a state of shock, I think. He may come out okay, or he may not,” she finished with a shrug, sitting on the side of Trunks' bed and helping him to sit up. “But he's strong, even though he may not believe much in himself right now.”

 

From his room down the hall, Miura was oblivious to the conversation about him. He simply lay on his bed, staring absently at the ceiling as he always did, pondering what his next step would be. He couldn't stay here on Earth, of that he was certain. The memories of Clef, Zellis, and Elysia's deaths would haunt him forever, he knew, but remaining on the planet where his loved ones had been obliterated was a bit more than he could handle. Galdria, too, was out of the question, for the few memories of his good times there would be like rubbing salt in an open wound. For him, it seemed, there was nowhere left to go…

 

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Miura rose with the sun.

 

After dressing quietly in the black jumpsuit he had laid out the night before, Miura pulled his ragged, tattered Hunter's cloak from a peg on the wall and donned it quickly. A final glance around the room revealed nothing of real value, so, after shouldering his single rucksack of clothing and belongings, and attaching the black handle of his Galdrian energy saber to a belt around his waist, Miura walked calmly from his small room in Bulma's Capsule house.

 

Stopping before the entrance to Trunks and Gabriel's shared room, the purple-eyed fighter silently opened the door and slipped inside. His two stalwart allies were in a deep sleep, and they never heard Miura as he said his quiet goodbyes and thanked them for everything they'd done to help him over the last two years and more. In Gabriel, Miura had found a young man who never thought twice about doing the right thing, no matter what the cost. Dorian's son was valiant and powerful, and would make a wise and fair Emperor to the people of Galdria. Trunks had shown Miura that not all Saiyans were blood-thirsty savages, focused solely on combat and destruction. The purple-haired youth was a fearless and frighteningly strong ally in battle, and a kind-hearted friend. It had been Trunks, after all, who had won Hanzo over in the long run, and their time spent together in the chamber on Kami's Lookout had obviously influenced Miura's half-brother greatly.

 

Closing the door behind him just as silently as he'd opened it, Miura walked down the short corridor that led to the Capsule house's only exit. As he grabbed the handle, a slight pang of regret nearly made him turn back, but his mind had already been made up.

 

“I can't stay here, not anymore,” he said softly to himself as he left the small, dome-shaped building. “It's time to go our separate ways… We'll not meet again, my friends.” Suddenly, before he'd taken more than a dozen steps, a soft, feminine voice cleared her throat behind him. Miura paused for a moment, letting the cool morning breeze stir through his straight, shoulder-length black hair. Finally he turned around to face Bulma, who stood behind him with her arms crossed, dressed in a dirty, grey mechanic's jumpsuit.

 

“I won't even bother to try and stop you, Miura,” Trunks' mother said, cutting off any objection that the black-clad young man before her may have been preparing. “I only wanted to give you something, for your trip.” She started to walk around to the back of the house, beckoning for Miura to follow her. “Well, come on!”

 

Eventually Miura joined Bulma behind the small building, where she stood proudly before a beat-up looking Capsule ship. How the spherical craft had managed to survive the tumultuous battle that had ravaged West City, Miura didn't know, but it looked flyable, if a little rough around the edges. The sun was rising above the horizon, stirring up a faint mist as its rays came in contact with the chilly morning air. Miura finally spoke.

 

“You're giving me this?” he asked, his voice sounding hollow and emotionless, even to his own ears. If Bulma was expecting something more, she didn't get it, as Miura simply stood in place, silent, studying the space ship before him.

 

“Yeah, you'll need it to get off this planet, right?” It seemed that Bulma had somehow managed to understand Miura's feelings of discomfort, though the Saiyan-blooded warrior had no idea how. “You know how to fly this thing or not?”

 

Miura nodded and looked back for a moment over his shoulder, to where Zellis and Elysia had been buried in a small section of the city park that had remained relatively unharmed. Bulma followed his gaze and bit her bottom lip slightly as tears sprang to her bright teal eyes.

 

“You'll make sure Gabriel takes them home?” the mourning youth asked, keeping his eyes locked on the two mounds of earth that covered his sister and lover. When he finally returned his attention to Bulma, he ignored the tears that ran down her cheeks. “Will you?” he asked again, walking calmly past the blue-haired woman and toward the boarding ramp of the Capsule ship.

 

“Yes, of course,” Bulma responded at last, looking over her shoulder as Miura boarded the craft. “Miura… We won't see you again, will we?”

 

“There's nothing in the entire universe that will ever get me to return to this planet,” the sorrowful former Hunter replied, not even bothering to look over his shoulder as he spoke. After a moment he continued, his voice cold enough to send chills down Bulma's spine. “Tell Trunks and Gabriel that Miura died on Tiris. He never came back… Not really.”

 

The ship's automated door slid shut without a sound and, as Bulma watched sadly, the space craft lifted effortlessly off the ground and shot high into the brightening morning sky. She knew, as the Capsule ship became nothing more than a single point of light in the distance, that the amethyst-eyed young man was right.

 

Miura had never really come back after all…

 

 

 

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