Back in the laboratory on Primus, the final line of code settled into the Omnitrix's core matrix. Eunice ran a final diagnostic, her expression serene. The integration of the new program was complete, with no functional abnormalities detected.
Ben picked up the watch. As he placed it on his left wrist, the band seemed to come alive, constricting with a soft hiss to fit him perfectly.
"With this, you can now utilize the abilities of your alien forms without a full physical transformation," Eunice stated, summarizing the function's primary application.
"The transformation itself was never the issue," Ben shook his head, a faint smile playing on his lips. That wasn't what truly excited him. If he was being honest, the raw power of a full transformation was still exhilarating. "The breakthrough isn't the convenience; it's the principle behind it. This function operates on the successful fusion of alien and human DNA. Just like me awakening spider-powers, or your own body harnessing the genetics of countless species. This is a successful, stable model of gene fusion. That is what's important."
Gene fusion was the next frontier of his research, a field fraught with unimaginable complexity. Peter's success with the spider's genetics was an anomaly, a one-in-a-billion fluke. It didn't mean Dr. Connors could perfect his lizard serum without disastrous consequences. Within the human species alone, genetic compatibility was a minefield; expanding that to countless alien races with fundamentally different biology was a god-level challenge.
After securing the watch, Ben moved his arm, the familiar weight a comforting presence. He hadn't taken it off since he was ten years old. The initial discomfort of having it permanently attached had long ago faded into a feeling of completeness.
"How are Tony's preparations coming along?" he asked.
"He located the Red King's original exoskeleton and has managed to partially repair it," Eunice reported. "He also injected himself with a synthesized version of the Extremis virus. However, the formula is highly unstable. It wasn't even able to regenerate his severed arm."
Eunice's own synthezoid body contained a vastly superior, stabilized version of Extremis, one Ben had perfected. Tony's rushed, desperate concoction was a crude imitation at best.
"Even so," she continued, "he should be considerably more durable than he was on Earth. The Red King's exoskeleton was formidable. Even Four Arms could not break it in a single blow."
A smirk touched Ben's lips. "If he isn't durable, then he's no use as a test subject. There'd be no way to properly gauge the new function's strength."
This new ability was, in essence, a partial gene-splice, layering an alien's genetic traits over Ben's own human form. The resulting abilities would naturally be altered. Weaker aliens would be significantly boosted by Ben's own formidable base power, while his most powerful forms might be weakened. The augmented abilities were drawn from the species' baseline genetics, not the supercharged enhancements Ben had acquired. That meant no Sakaaran lightning, no Eternal Flame. Just the raw, inherent power of the species.
"Alright," Ben said, turning from the console. "Let's get the Championship Challenge started."
"Come on, Championship Challenge! I'm not afraid of you!"
Inside the armory, Tony cinched the final strap of the exoskeleton. The metal frame, scarred and dented, hugged his body tightly. Thanks to the decades of technological advancement on Earth, his skills were far beyond what they once were. He had even managed to replicate a primitive version of Primus's energy shield technology.
The exoskeleton enhanced his mobility, the shield offered some protection, and the Extremis coursing through his veins boosted his strength and healing. Even if the armor was shattered, he wouldn't be killed instantly. He should have a chance.
"All weapons systems online…"
He had expected to go into battle with little more than an axe. To his surprise, the Sakaarans had generously provided him with a selection of firearms and even a double-bladed sword, claiming it was the Red King's old weapon. They had also helped him repair the exoskeleton's original flamethrower, a terrifying weapon that spewed a high-temperature death-fire that even his Extremis-enhanced body couldn't withstand.
This generosity should have been cause for celebration, but Tony couldn't bring himself to feel happy. It meant one thing: they believed that even with all this gear, his chances of winning were zero.
In the past week, Korg had visited several times, his face a mask of rocky sympathy, asking if Tony had any last words or if he wanted a monument erected in his honor.
Tony, frowning, had ignored him. Now, he walked alone down the massive passage leading to the arena. The tunnel was colossal, over ten meters in every direction, and the walls were scored with deep gouges—evidence of past "contestants" of immense size. Korg had told him stories of the giant octopus monster Cork and other beasts that once roamed the planet, all of whom had been no match for Ronan and Supergiant.
He reached the heavy gates, the roar of the crowd already a thunderous, palpable pressure against the metal. The residents of this planet had a fanatical passion for duels, a tradition stretching back centuries. He found the idea of it fascinating. If he ever got out of this, he'd come back with proper gear and give it another try. He'd never had his face carved into a building before.
He let his mind wander to these absurdities, a familiar trick to manage the crushing stress.
With a deafening groan, the iron gates opened. The wall of sound and light slammed into him.
"I know you've all been waiting for this!" a booming voice echoed from on high, likely the announcer. The cheers intensified, the sound waves so powerful Tony could feel the ground vibrating beneath his feet. "After so long—another Championship Challenge!"
The announcer paused for effect.
"And another foolish idiot who dares to challenge our Queen Looma Red Wind!"
A wave of derisive laughter swept through the stadium. The crowd knew Ben's victory had been a once-in-a-lifetime exception. There could not be another King Sakaar. The vast majority of challengers ended up as stains on the arena sand.
"...So let us welcome the fearless… Iron Boy!"
The cheers began anew. Tony rolled his eyes. "What? Iron Boy? Who came up with that garbage nickname?" He stalked out onto the arena floor, his face a thunderous scowl.
When the people of Sakaar saw what he was wearing, their excitement erupted into a new emotion: rage.
Tony, mistaking their roar for a welcome, felt the old showman itch. He raised his hands, waving to the crowd like a rock star. He was immediately pelted with a rotten egg.
"That scum is wearing the Red King's armor!" a voice shrieked, and the cry was taken up by thousands. No one on Sakaar could fail to recognize the hated tyrant's gear. "Damn him! Smash him to death!"
Suddenly, the air was thick with flying debris.
"Stop, stop, stop—" Tony yelped, dodging frantically. "Stop throwing things! Where are you even getting rotten eggs? And hey, you! The one who threw their underwear! That's just uncalled for!"
"It appears our Iron Boy is in a bit of trouble," the announcer chuckled, clearly enjoying the spectacle. The crowd chanted, "Kill him! Beat him to death!"
Tony had fully experienced what it meant to be universally despised. I just love that look on your faces, he thought bitterly, the one where you want to kill me but can't. He felt that with his current gear, he could survive for a little while, at least. He had to win. He had to reach the Queen. Only then could he use his one true trump card: his connection to Ben Parker.
He calmed himself, ignored the bloodthirsty spectators, and turned his gaze to the far side of the arena. The gate on that end was opening, revealing an inky blackness, as if some great monster was lurking within.
His first opponent.
Who is it? he wondered, his heart sinking. Ronan? Supergiant? Or that Lava monster?
He was so nervous he could barely breathe. The outcome of this fight concerned more than just his life; the fate of Earth hung in the balance. As he watched, a dark figure slowly emerged from the shadows. Tony narrowed his eyes. It looked… familiar.
"Let us welcome," the announcer bellowed, his voice rising with each word, "our supreme—our great—" His voice cracked with emotion on the final word, but he still screamed the name.
Suddenly, the entire mood of the stadium reversed.
Every single spectator rose to their feet, shouting in a single, frenzied voice: "PRIMEE!!!"
No one on this planet would ever forget that name. In the dark, repressive world ruled by the Red King, it was this challenger who had brought them hope. It was the title Ben had used when he first entered the Championship Challenge.
"Wait, wait, who did you say?"
Tony was dumbstruck. Did I hear that right? Is that the Prime I think it is?
His heart hammered against his ribs, louder than the earth-shaking cheers. His eyes were fixed on the dark shadow, his entire being coiled with the tension of a man waiting for a miracle.
And then Ben walked into the light, clad in a black Prime battlesuit, chains wrapped around his forearms. Tony's brain short-circuited. A delirious, ecstatic laugh burst from his lips.
"YEAH!!! HAHAHAHA!!!"
The Sakaarans who had been about to cheer for Ben were stunned into silence by Tony's outburst. He was jumping up and down like a child. The audience was utterly baffled. Does this fool not know how terrifying his opponent is?
Tony didn't care. He was drowning in a tidal wave of pure, unadulterated joy. He wanted to grab every person in the stadium and scream at them.
"I KNOW HIM!!"
"HE'S MY FRIEND!!"
He was a raving lunatic, hopping in place, desperate for everyone to understand. A miracle!
"WE KNOW EACH OTHER!!!"
For a moment, the entire arena was silent.
Ben stood at the far end, watching Tony's manic display, and was inexplicably reminded of that idiot, Thor, and his reaction to seeing the Hulk.
Tony pumped his fists in the air several times and then, with tears streaming down his face, he started running towards Ben.
Who could possibly understand this feeling? To meet an old acquaintance in a strange land, after so much suffering? He had found him. It meant all the torture, all the pain, had been meaningful. The Earth was saved!
"This is amazing, Ben!" Tony choked out as he ran. "I never expected to meet you here… I was hoping that Looma woman knew you… I never expected…"
He reached Ben and, because of the exoskeleton, stood a full head taller. Crying openly, he clapped a hand on Ben's shoulder. "Hurry," he said excitedly, "there's no time for any of this challenge nonsense. Earth is in danger. Ultron—what are you doing?"
He couldn't finish the sentence.
Ben's hand shot out, grabbing Tony's arm. The black battlesuit was as cold as the void.
The next thing Tony saw was a fist, rapidly enlarging in his field of vision.
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