Nathan flew through the sunny sky with the low hum of distant honking rising from the traffic below. Hovering mid-air, he spotted Gwen standing atop a tall nearby building—long coat billowing, arms crossed, sharp eyes scanning the scene like she'd already solved half the problem.
"Need a lift, Agent?" Nathan called down, descending in his Homelander form.
"Took you long enough, cape boy," Gwen said, stepping forward.
He scooped her up with an exaggerated bow. "Apologies, milady. Traffic in the upper atmosphere was murder."
"Cute," she deadpanned, though her smirk gave her away. "Let's go."
They soared toward the perimeter of the concert grounds, which had been discreetly blocked off behind the stage area. Tour buses sat idle, crew members stood confused and distracted by odd flickers in the sky, and beneath the clamor of tuning instruments, something darker buzzed beneath the surface.
Nathan landed with a thud beside a white panel van and gently set Gwen down. Nearby, Sam and Dean Winchester stood in their usual hunt-worn gear—Dean had his shotgun slung casually over one shoulder, Sam held a thick leather-bound tome, and behind them stood Castiel, still and unreadable. The final figure was hard to miss: a lanky, battered Tetraman, hunched and breathing heavily, his four arms tucked tightly to his chest like he was trying to make himself smaller.
Dean's eyes narrowed immediately. "Well, if it isn't the Sea Monster himself."
Nathan offered a lazy salute. "Still upset I saved your ass that day?"
"He helped us during a Mutant Alien incident a few months ago," Sam clarified for Gwen, then turned to Nathan. "You were... unconventional."
"I'm Gwen Tennyson," she said, stepping forward and flashing a sleek, circular badge. "Plumber. My grandfather sent us—Max Tennyson."
Dean exchanged a look with Sam, who gave a small nod. "That checks out. Bobby mentioned Max was sending someone."
Castiel's eyes landed on Gwen briefly. "Anodite blood…"
Gwen blinked. "Sorry, what?"
But Castiel turned away without elaborating.
Nathan tilted his head. "Didn't know angels could ghost people."
"Only the annoying ones," Dean muttered.
Gwen refocused. "What exactly are we dealing with?"
Sam turned and gestured to the hunched Tetraman. "Ship full of his race crash-landed just outside city limits earlier today. They were trying to make an emergency landing—but demon activity's been flaring up everywhere lately. The second they hit Earth, half the crew got possessed."
"The navigator," Dean nodded toward the skinny Tetraman, "was the only one weak enough for us to exorcise. The others? Still juiced up with hellfire and trying to reboot the ship."
"They want off-world," Sam added. "Which would be a massive problem if they leave Earth while still possessed. We're talking about a cosmic incident kind of problem."
"Possessed super-strong space warriors launching themselves off the planet," Nathan said. "Yeah, sounds about right idea for a plumber and hunter joint operation."
The Tetraman finally spoke, voice gravelly and accented. "Princess Luma is aboard. If they take her while possessed, there will be war. Earth will not survive being at the center of that."
"Royalty?" Gwen asked, surprised.
"She is more than that," the Tetraman said, exhaling with effort. "She is a symbol of strength. If she arrives home… corrupted… the damage to interplanetary relations will be irreparable."
Nathan raised a brow. Immediately recognising another Canon Character from Ben 10, the muscle mo… he meant the tetraman crush…
"We've got another problem," Dean said, glancing toward the loud, thumping bass echoing from the concert stage. "Some big international star is performing tonight. Place is about to be packed. Thousands of people. If those demons don't get the ship working, they'll tear through the crowd instead."
"So we're on a timer," Gwen said grimly.
Sam nodded. "There's a ritual we can use. Big one. It could hit all the possessed people.. aliens at once—exorcise them without a fight."
"But it takes time," Dean said.
"And power," Sam added. "Cas will fuel the ritual. I'll handle the prep and anchor it."
Castiel simply nodded, eyes not quite meeting Nathan's.
"What's the catch?" Gwen asked.
"You two need to keep the demons busy, with the Sea Monster.. Alien, you can definitely do a better job at handling them, and you're experienced with aliens." Sam said. "They're bound to notice what we're doing. They'll try to interrupt it—violently."
Nathan cracked his knuckles, glancing sideways at Gwen. "Bodyguard duty, huh? I like it."
Gwen rolled her eyes. "Try not to make me laugh during the fight this time."
"No promises."
Dean handed her a small enchanted talisman. "This'll let you signal us if things go south fast."
"And it'll glow if the ritual starts to falter," Sam added. "Protect it at all costs."
"On it," Gwen said, slipping it into her pocket.
The bass from the stage kicked up another notch. Lights flared. The festival crowd had begun to swell, unaware that a group of intergalactic demon meat-suits lurked just beyond the VIP zone.
Castiel gave one last look toward Gwen. "We must begin."
Nathan waved a hand. "You don't have to pretend I'm not here, Cas. I can feel your divine side-eye."
Cas said nothing, turning toward the ritual site without a word.
Gwen smirked. "That's gotta be a record. Ignored by an angel twice in five minutes."
Nathan shrugged. "Can I become an angel using Omnitrix?" He wondered out aloud.
The preparations took about an hour and half before The ritual circle was complete.
Sigils carved with surgical precision were anchored with old-world salt and powdered minerals. Sam crouched by the formation, double-checking placement while Castiel stood motionless, fingers splayed as he began channeling celestial energy into the core. The surrounding air tightened, as if the universe itself held its breath.
That's when the first wave hit.
They came howling—literally. Possessed Tetraman crew, their massive bodies distorted by demonic energy, barreled out of the hangar's loading bay like berserkers smelling blood. Their war cries echoed off the reinforced hull, vibrating through the air like thunder. And every single one of them was heading straight for the ritual.
"Showtime," Gwen muttered.
Nathan, now in his human form and leaning against a large golden crate, popped his neck once before slamming a hand onto the H-Omnitrix. With a mechanical hum and a pulse of shifting light, his body morphed—flesh replaced by cybernetic plating, red optic gleam flickering to life.
"Cyborg," he announced. "Alright, Raph—show me what they've got under the hood."
[Initializing connection to Tetraman mainframe. Warning: system firewall active. Bypassing…]
A thin cable extended from Nathan's wrist and snaked into a nearby console. He winced slightly as data surged through him.
[Structural layout acquired. Power systems online. Defensive subroutines primed. You now have complete control of this ship's interior features.]
"Beautiful," Nathan said, grinning.
The ship responded instantly. Gravity shifted near the entrance, sending two charging Tetraman demons stumbling into each other and rolling across the polished floor like wrecking balls. Behind them, bulkhead doors slammed shut one by one—isolating enemies into manageable groups.
Gwen raised a brow. "Seriously? You're just… trapping them?"
"Environmental control," Nathan replied smugly. "Why fight fair when I've got their entire ship under my fingertips?"
[Redirecting coolant pressure to corridor C1. Opening side vent in 3… 2…]
A loud hiss exploded from the wall, and a blast of cryo-coolant flash-froze a trio of advancing demons mid-step. Their limbs stiffened, and Nathan followed up by magnetizing the floor. The metallic force yanked their frozen bodies straight to the plating, locking them down like statues.
Gwen blinked. "Okay, that's actually impressive."
Nathan turned, walking backward toward her while another cable slithered from his forearm into a different panel. "Oh my thank you for the encouragement my lady.
Behind them, two more possessed Tetramans leapt across a second level, trying to get past the interference. Gwen stepped forward now, hand already glowing pink.
"Leave it to me."
She launched a chain of arcane runes, snapping them into formation mid-air with precise gestures. The resulting blast exploded upward in a net of pure mana, seizing the pair mid-jump. Their bodies jerked violently as the magic ripped the demonic energy from their hosts. With a flash, the Tetramans dropped, groaning—but alive.
"Your magic is definitely getting way better," Nathan commented, using a wall-mounted arm to clothesline another charging demon into a containment cell.
The Gwn in this universe was far powerful than the Gwen he knew.
[Possibly because both Marvel and Supernatural also have magic which has integrated in the world togather with Ben 10's magic.]
"I've been practicing," Gwen said with a shrug, hair blowing slightly from the residual feedback of her last cast. She turned and hurled a disc of light into the face of a screaming host trying to scale the wall. The demon's howls cut off abruptly as he was flung backward, crashing into a crate of ornate golden armor.
[Three more in ventilation shaft above. Shall I redirect them to corridor B?]
Nathan grinned. "Make it rain."
Above them, a pressure shift sucked the trio out of the vents like toys in a vacuum tube. They were dumped directly into a corridor where the floor rotated ninety degrees, sending them tumbling straight into a closed stasis pod.
Door slammed. Lock engaged.
Nathan dusted his hands. "And that's how we use their own toys against them."
Gwen let out a low whistle. "You sure you're not secretly Tetraman royalty?"
"Don't give me ideas," Nathan replied. "There's a princess inside, who knows I might become the hero saving the princess and marry her." Nathan teased
She smirked, flicking her fingers again to launch another stasis hex at a dazed demon trying to crawl away. The burst of light hit center mass, locking the demon's movements as if paused mid-frame.
"Seriously though," Gwen said more quietly now, "you're good at this. Real good."
Nathan gave a mock bow, servo joints whirring. "Tactical genius, intergalactic locksmith, and part-time demon exterminator. I'm multi-talented."
Their shared moment was interrupted by a low rumble from deeper within the ship. The entire hull pulsed once—like something had briefly disturbed the heart of it.
"They're getting desperate," Gwen warned, eyes narrowing as the deck beneath them thrummed with approaching footsteps.
"Easier for us," Nathan replied, glancing toward the ritual circle in the distance. Sam and Dean had returned, moving quickly as they laid out the final ingredients. The Tetraman navigator hovered nearby, tapping into a console to stabilize the ship's internal field. At the center, Castiel stood unmoving, his wings barely visible as a shimmer of holy pressure pressed outward from him—like he was the axis the room now spun around.
"Hold the line," Gwen said, raising her hand as another wave of possessed Tetramans came howling down the corridor.
Nathan's lips curved into a grin beneath the faceplate. "I thought you'd never ask."
He lifted both arms. From the ceiling, turret pods deployed with quiet hisses, pivoting in sync toward the incoming demons.
[Targeting systems primed. Executing Protocol: Fortress.]
A sudden pulse rocked the ship.
Instantly, a wave of localized gravity shot through the corridor, crushing air pressure toward the ship's center. The incoming demons stumbled, some slammed bodily into the floor, others dragged into newly opened compartments that sealed with a clang. The ship wasn't just a battlefield anymore—it was a trap, a labyrinth Nathan controlled with precision.
That's when the ritual activated.
The markings carved into the hangar deck flared bright gold. A deep, unnatural wind whipped through the room, and the Tetraman crew members possessed by demonic energy convulsed as black smoke was yanked violently from their mouths and eyes. It screamed—actual voices in the smoke—before twisting upward in streams and vanishing through the glowing sigils.
One by one, the demons were pulled back to Hell.
When the last scream faded, silence fell like a dropped curtain.
Castiel exhaled slowly, his expression unreadable. He gave Sam and Dean a short nod, and just like that, they were gone—Cas teleporting them away before anyone could say much more. Good thing they had exchanged contacts already.
"Well, that's one way to leave," Nathan muttered, watching them vanish.
Gwen dusted off her hands and turned toward the upper decks. "I've gotta handle the Tetraman crew and run diplomacy upstairs. Can you take care of whoever's in charge down here? Keep the show running?"
"Consider it done," Nathan said, already deactivating his armor with a shimmer as he strolled down the corridor. "You go be diplomatic. I'll go be… reassuring."
[Translation: lie with confidence.]
"You get me," he murmured with a smirk.
He asked around, got pointed toward the event organizers—three worried-looking guys in shiny suits who were nervously waiting for the soldiers to let them in. Nathan walked up casually, flashing a polite smile.
"Crisis handled. The terrorists—" he made finger quotes "—have been dealt with. You're good to resume the concert. No hidden threats. The sky's clear."
The organizers blinked, then sagged in relief.
"Really?" one asked. "So we're safe?"
"As safe as a concert can be."
They nodded quickly, relaying the update to crew through comms.
That's when she walked in.
A woman in a long-sleeved blue stage dress entered the room, hair falling in an elegant contrast of black on one side and white on the other. She looked around, spotted Nathan, and offered a graceful nod.
"감사합니다," she said warmly.
Nathan blinked.
"Oh. Luna Snow," he murmured, almost caught off guard. He hadn't expected to see her here—K-pop star, ice-powered superhero, and multimedia icon. Of course she'd be headlining the concert.
He smiled back. "천만에요. 제가 도왔을 뿐이에요."
Luna tilted her head, pleasantly surprised. "Your Korean is really good."
Nathan tapped his temple with a wink. "Let's just say I've got a great teacher in here."
[Internet-based language database downloaded. Fluent in 94 languages and counting.]
They exchanged a few words—she thanked him again, asked if he was part of the government, and he deflected with practiced charm. She had to get ready for her performance, and he didn't want to linger.
With a final smile and an exchanged nod, he turned to leave.
"Break a leg out there," he called over his shoulder.
She smiled, then returned to her team.
A/n: I had initially planned to continue onto the lucifer arc and put the New York battle arc in the middle. Which would have made the Supernatural arc quite big. However, I've realised that most people are not enjoying the supernatural side of the story. So I want to ask, should I do as I had previously planned or should I reduce the Supernatural part?
Comment for Original
Comment for Supernatural Arc Reduction