The laboratory reeked of motor oil and metal. Cold light fell straight from the ceiling, illuminating the complex engine in front of Bulma with perfect clarity.
She crouched amid a pile of parts, her fingers smeared with black grease as beads of sweat slowly formed on her forehead.
The screwdriver and wrench spun rapidly in her hands, the faint clinking of metal steady and rhythmic.
"Trunks, if you're back, hand me the wrench—the hexagonal one on the left." Without looking up, Bulma spoke in a focused yet slightly impatient tone.
The figure at the door did not move.
Only the low hum of the machinery remained in the air.
Bulma frowned and stopped working, slowly rising to her feet.
When she turned around, her pupils abruptly contracted. The wrench slipped from her hand, hit the workbench, and rolled several times before coming to a stop.
"You're not Trunks." She kept her voice low, wary and confused. "Who are you? How did you get in?"
The light outlined the tall, lean figure standing in the doorway.
He stood between shadow and light, his dark battle suit reflecting a faint cold gleam. Most conspicuous of all was the furry brown tail behind him, swaying slowly.
"Qi Heng." His voice was calm, like a windless lake, yet it carried a force that seemed to pierce the air. "I came from another timeline."
"Another timeline?" Bulma froze for a moment, the wariness in her eyes immediately replaced by curiosity.
She casually grabbed a cloth to wipe her hands, then stepped out from behind the workbench and openly looked Qi Heng up and down. Her gaze finally settled on his tail.
"Your tail... Are you a Saiyan?" Her tone already carried the excitement unique to a researcher.
"Yes."
"Interesting." The corners of Bulma's mouth lifted