Beneath the ruins of West City, there was another underground shelter.
"Why haven't they come back yet after all this time…? Don't tell me something happened…"
A woman who looked strikingly similar to Bulma paced anxiously inside the room. However, she appeared much older.
She was none other than Bulma of this future timeline.
This future Bulma carried a mature air—but also deep exhaustion. It had already been three days since her son and Son Gohan had gone out to confront the two Androids.
In the past, Trunks had occasionally stayed out overnight.
But they would always return by the next day.
Now three days had passed without a single sign of them—there was no way she could remain calm.
"No… they'll be fine. They have to be fine. Goku… please, you must protect them and let them return safely…"
Future Bulma clasped her hands tightly together, closing her eyes in silent prayer.
Another half day passed.
By now, she was as anxious as an ant on a hot pan.
"No… I can't just sit here anymore. I have to go find them!"
Unable to endure it any longer, she quickly prepared her gear and carefully opened the door.
Stepping through the hidden passage, she moved toward the exit. One more step—and she would be out in the open world.
It was already afternoon. The sky glowed with a dim orange hue.
Driven by urgency, Future Bulma stepped outside without hesitation, ready to head toward the direction where the battle's energy fluctuations had been felt two days ago.
Suddenly—
A sharp whistling sound tore through the air above.
Someone was flying at high speed!
"Who could it be…?"
She didn't rush out recklessly. Not knowing whether it was her son—or the Androids—she cautiously hid behind a broken wall.
The sound drew closer.
Thud! Thud!
Soon, the figures landed.
Future Bulma's heart leapt into her throat.
"Mom! Come out!"
A familiar voice echoed through the ruins.
Tears instantly welled up in her eyes—it was her son. She knew it. She had always believed Trunks and Gohan would make it back safely.
She rushed out from behind the wall, crying as she scolded:
"You two—why did you take so long to come back?! Do you have any idea how worried I was—"
Her voice abruptly cut off.
Future Bulma froze.
Standing before her were four figures.
Two of them were familiar—Trunks and Son Gohan.
But the other two…
One was a young, beautiful woman—identical to her younger self.
The other… had a brown tail wrapped around his waist.
A Saiyan.
"Who are you people?!"
Future Bulma pointed at the younger Bulma, her voice trembling.
"Why do you look exactly like me?"
Then she pointed at Gran.
"I thought Trunks and the others were the only Saiyans left in this world—why is there another one?!"
Son Gohan and Trunks exchanged glances, both smiling knowingly.
They had reacted the same way earlier.
Gohan stepped forward with a gentle smile.
"Bulma Auntie, didn't you say before that you were researching a time machine—to go back to the past and change the future?"
"What…?"
Future Bulma's eyes widened in shock. She quickly wiped away her tears, her voice trembling with excitement.
"Gohan… are you saying that they…?"
Trunks rushed forward and hugged her tightly, unable to contain his excitement.
"Mom, you guessed it right! They're not from our timeline—they came from the past to save our world!"
Boom!
A storm surged through Future Bulma's heart.
Son Goku had died from a heart virus.
Vegeta and the other Z Fighters had all been killed.
But that still wasn't the most hopeless part.
The most hopeless part… was Piccolo's death.
Without Piccolo, there was no Kami.
Without Kami, there were no Dragon Balls.
Without the Dragon Balls, their fallen comrades could never be revived.
This world… had no future.
Even Vegeta had been unable to defeat the Androids—how could Trunks possibly stand a chance?
That was why she had resolved to build a time machine—to return to the past and change everything.
And yet… today, she was seeing her "past self" standing right before her.
"Wait… past timeline… future timeline… I see now…"
Future Bulma muttered under her breath. Slowly, she closed her eyes in despair.
"So… going back to the past really doesn't work after all…"
"Hello… me."
The one who spoke was the younger Bulma standing beside Gran.
Seeing another version of herself felt… strange.
"Hello… me."
Future Bulma opened her eyes again, looking at her younger, vibrant self. She let out a long sigh.
"So it really is impossible to return to the past…"
Hearing this, the younger Bulma's nose stung.
She knew—this version of herself must have already understood the paradox of time.
And yet… she still chose to build a time machine.
Just how deep must her despair have been?
"How did you end up here? Did you come because you knew what was happening in this timeline?"
Future Bulma didn't dwell on the paradox any longer. What puzzled her more was why they had come at all.
"No. Coming to this timeline was just an accident."
This time, it was Gran who answered.
"And you are…?"
Future Bulma turned her gaze toward him, her eyes lingering briefly on the tail at his waist—a clear mark of a Saiyan.
"Mom, he's a god from another timeline. His name is Gran-sama."
Trunks spoke with deep gratitude.
"Gohan and I were able to come back alive because Lord Gran saved us."
"What? What happened to you two?!"
Future Bulma's face filled with worry as she quickly checked her son over, afraid he might be injured.
"Auntie Bulma, it's like this…"
Gohan began recounting everything that had happened over the past three days—their battle against the Androids.
After hearing it all, Future Bulma's heart remained unsettled for a long time.
She took a deep breath, then bowed respectfully toward Gran.
"I may not understand what a 'god' truly is… but thank you, sir, for saving my son—and Gohan as well."