The war room buzzed with tension as commanders argued over maps spread across a massive table. Ben stood near the back, trying to follow military strategies that sounded like they came straight from a history textbook.
"We can't hold the eastern wall with current forces," one grizzled general insisted. "We need to pull troops from the southern gate."
"And leave that flank exposed?" another countered. "The orcs could circle around!"
King Roland raised a hand for silence, then turned to Ben. "You've been quiet, Summoner. What do you think?"
"I'm not actually a summoner," Ben said for what felt like the hundredth time. "And I don't know much about medieval warfare. But where I come from, we'd use flying units to scout enemy positions."
"We have no griffin riders available," a commander noted.
"I don't know about griffons but...." Ben tapped the Omnitrix. "I've got Stinkfly, he's a Lepidopterran. Basically, a giant flying bug with four eyes. I can scout the orc army myself, see what we're really up against."
Elara leaned forward, intrigued. "How high can this form fly?"
"Pretty high. And fast enough to avoid arrows, probably."
Roland considered this. "It would give us valuable intelligence. But it's risky."
"Everything about this situation is risky," Ben pointed out. "At least this way we know what's coming."
Lyra spoke up. "I'll accompany him. I can ride if his form is large enough, provide a second set of eyes."
"Stinkfly's big enough, yeah. Should work." Ben looked at the king. "Your Majesty?"
"Go. But return before nightfall. We need you here when the battle comes."
As they left the war room, a young servant caught up with them,a gnome, Ben realized with a start. An actual three-foot-tall gnome with wild gray hair and goggles perched on his forehead.
"Excuse me! Summoner, sir!" The gnome bounced excitedly. "I'm Fizzwick Geargrind, master artificer and inventor! I heard about your magnificent device and simply must examine it!"
"Uh, this really isn't a great time—"
"Just a moment! Please!" Fizzwick pulled out a jeweler's loupe and peered at the Omnitrix before Ben could object. "Fascinating! The energy signature is completely foreign. Not elemental, not divine, not even fey-touched. It's as if the universe itself doesn't recognize what it is!"
"That's... actually a pretty good description," Ben admitted. "It's technology from my dimension. Different physical laws, maybe?"
"Extraordinary!" Fizzwick produced a notebook and began sketching rapidly. "I've been studying magitech for thirty years, the intersection of magic and mechanical innovation. But this is beyond anything I've imagined. The transformation matrix alone—"
"Fizzwick," Lyra interrupted gently. "We have a scouting mission. Perhaps later?"
"Oh! Oh yes, of course! Forgive me." The gnome bowed repeatedly while backing away. "But please, Summoner, when you return, I have so many questions! My workshop is in the eastern tower, third floor, you can't miss the scorch marks—"
"I'll find you," Ben promised, amused despite the situation.
They climbed to the castle's highest battlement. Below, Ironveil stretched in all directions, a city of perhaps fifty thousand, all depending on these walls for protection.
"You ready?" Ben asked Lyra.
The knight checked her bow and quiver. "I've ridden horses into battle. How different can a giant insect be?"
"Way different. But here goes." Ben activated the Omnitrix.
The transformation rippled through him. Four arms sprouted, his body became segmented and insectoid, wings unfurled from his back. Stinkfly's compound eyes gave him a dizzying panoramic view.
"STICKFLY!"
Lyra stared up at him, Stinkfly was almost seven feet long. "You weren't exaggerating about the size. Or the... bug-ness."
"Hey, Stinkfly's actually pretty cool. He can shoot slime, fly super fast, and his eyes let me see almost everything." Stinkfly lowered himself. "Climb on, I'm pretty stable."
Lyra mounted cautiously, finding handholds in Stinkfly's carapace. "This is deeply strange."
"Just wait until we're airborne." Stinkfly's wings buzzed to life, lifting them off the battlement.
They rose above the castle, wind rushing past. Lyra gasped, from exhilaration or fear, Ben couldn't tell, as Ironveil shrank below them.
"This is incredible!" she shouted over the wind. "I can see the entire kingdom!"
"Pretty great view, right?" Stinkfly said, heading east toward where scouts had reported the orc army. "Now let's see what we're up against."
They flew for twenty minutes, following the main road. Then Stinkfly's compound eyes spotted movement on the horizon, a dark mass covering the landscape like a spreading stain.
"There," he buzzed. "That's them."
As they drew closer, the true scale became apparent. Thousands of orcish warriors marched in organized columns, accompanied by massive siege towers, catapults, and more of those stone-hide beasts. But what caught Ben's attention were the cages.
Enormous cages on wheels, each containing something that scream danger.
"What are those?" Lyra whispered, horror in her voice.
Stinkfly circled lower, staying just out of arrow range. Inside the cages were creatures from nightmare, shadow hounds, yes, but also things with too many limbs, burning skeletons, and one massive serpent that radiated dark energy.
"Summoned creatures," Lyra said. "Just like the legends warned. The Blackfang warlord is a dark summoner."
"Not summoned," Stinkfly corrected, his enhanced vision picking up details. "Look at the cages. They're covered in runes. Those things are bound, controlled by magic. Someone's collecting magical creatures and enslaving them."
"That's forbidden magic! Soul binding was outlawed centuries ago!"
An arrow whistled past Stinkfly's wing. Orcish archers had spotted them.
"Time to go!" Stinkfly flew higher, climbing rapidly as more arrows followed. His wings blurred with speed, carrying them out of range.
As they fled, Stinkfly caught sight of the army's center, a massive tent where a figure stood watching them. Even from this distance, Ben could feel something wrong about that figure. A wrongness that reminded him of—
The Omnitrix beeped urgently.
"Seriously? Now?" Stinkfly's wings faltered.
"What's wrong?" Lyra gripped tighter.
"Timing out! Hang on!"
They were still a mile from the castle when the transformation ended. Ben and Lyra plummeted.
"Omnitrix, emergency mode!" Ben screamed, slapping the dial.
Green light flashed. XLR8 emerged, his velociraptor-like form appearing in mid-air. Without missing a beat, he grabbed Lyra and activated his speed, using momentum to run along the tree canopy below, bouncing from branch to branch until his velocity bled off enough to land safely.
They hit the ground rolling. XLR8 reverted to Ben, both of them gasping.
"That," Lyra panted, "was too close."
"Yeah." Ben's hands shook with adrenaline. "But we got what we needed. That orc army isn't just big, it's being led by someone who can control magical creatures. Someone powerful."
They jogged back to Ironveil, arriving as the sun touched the horizon. In the war room, their report brought grim silence.
"Two thousand warriors, plus bound beasts," Roland repeated. "And you say their leader was what...?"
"Like he shouldn't exist," Ben said. "I've fought a lot of weird stuff, Your Majesty. That felt different. Darker."
Elara's face had gone pale. "There are legends. Of a warlord who learned forbidden binding magic, who could enslave not just beasts but the very essence of defeated warriors. If the Blackfang Clan is led by such a being..."
"Then we're not just fighting orcs," Roland finished. "We're fighting a necromancer."
Ben felt a chill. "Okay, that's officially worse than Vilgax."
"Can you defeat him?" a commander asked. "With your transformations?"
"I can try. But I've never fought a necromancer before. Don't really know what to expect."
"Then we prepare for the worst," Roland declared. "Commanders, fortify all walls. Elara, prepare every defensive ward you can. Lyra, organize the civilian evacuation to the inner keep." He looked at Ben. "And you, Summoner, rest. In three days, you'll need every transformation at full strength."
As the meeting dispersed, Fizzwick appeared again. "Summoner! You survived! Excellent! Now, about that examination—"
"Actually," Ben said, an idea forming, "maybe you can help. If magic and technology can mix here, maybe we can create something that gives us an edge."
Fizzwick's eyes lit up behind his goggles. "Magitech weapons? Oh, this is going to be fun!"