Chapter 233: Vilgax Strikes Again
The Highbreed Supreme Commander stared in horror at his own hands, the once-pale flesh now mottled with a vibrant, unnatural red. "You have defiled our pure bloodline!" he bellowed, his voice trembling with a chaotic mix of rage and despair.
"Hey, I'm helping you guys!" Ben crossed his arms, clearly annoyed by the towering alien's sheer stubbornness. "At least you don't have to die, right?!"
It was a bitter pill to swallow, but Ben was right. The genetic decay that had doomed their entire species was gone. He didn't have to die. Deep down, past the ingrained xenophobia, a tiny spark of relief flickered within the Supreme Commander. Yet, pride demanded he maintain the facade of their ruined purity.
Before the situation could escalate, a familiar figure stepped out from the ranks of the Highbreed. It was Reinrassig III, the Highbreed noble who had survived the desolate wastes alongside Ben.
"Reiny?!" Ben blinked in surprise.
"Ben Tennyson," Reinrassig greeted, offering a solemn, respectful nod.
Stepping between the two factions, Reinrassig turned to the Supreme Commander. He spoke of his own experiences, revealing that his genes had also been repaired by Ben long before this mass pulse. He confessed that he had initially viewed the alteration as a foul curse, only to realize that his body had never felt stronger. The chronic pain and illness that plagued their kind had vanished entirely. The so-called pure bloodline, Reinrassig declared, was the true curse all along.
Faced with obvious proof, the promise of survival, and a clear path forward, the Supreme Commander's resistance crumbled. He agreed to the counsel on the spot, formally nominating Reinrassig III to succeed him as the new Supreme Commander of the Highbreed.
Seeing the political shift, Ben couldn't help but interject, waving his hands urgently. "Then why aren't you withdrawing your troops? If you wait any longer, my cousin is going to slaughter every last one of them."
The new Supreme Commander did not hesitate. "Withdraw the fleet! Now!"
Weeks drifted by since the Highbreed invasion abruptly ended.
For Klein and the rest of the crew, the apocalyptic war faded into the background, replaced by the mundane rhythm of everyday life. Ben and Gwen were forced back into the grueling routine of high school the very next morning, while Kevin was already making plans to hit up a local auto show. Everything settled back into a comfortable, lazy normalcy.
However, the aftermath brought a few permanent changes. Grandpa Max decided against returning to the Null Void. Instead, he took up a new mantle on Earth, dedicating his time to running special training sessions for the new generation of Plumber kids, starting with Alan and the others.
Then there was the Omnitrix.
Re-coding the genetic structure of the entire Highbreed species across the Milky Way Galaxy had drained a massive amount of energy, forcing the watch into a hard reboot.
The bad news was that the Master Control system had completely locked down again. When Ben complained, a holographic Azmuth merely gloated, flatly refusing to bypass the security protocols to open it back up.
The good news was that the reboot had shuffled the active playlist. Several alien heroes Ben had rarely or never used were now front and center, though Klein had already taken a few of those specific forms for a spin in the past.
Far from Earth, on the home world of the Galactic Enforcers.
A devastating shockwave ripped through the capital city as a heavily armored boot slammed into the ground. Vilgax delivered a brutal, devastating punch, sending Ultimos, the leader of the Galactic Enforcers, crashing through a series of crystalline pillars. The hero slumped into the rubble, completely defeated.
"The power of the greatest warrior from the tenth planet... finally belongs to me," Vilgax rumbled, his deep voice echoing with grim satisfaction as he stared down at the broken champion. He gestured sharply to his mechanical drones. "Bring the extraction device."
A slender, sycophantic alien scurried forward from the shadows. It was Psyphon, Vilgax's newly appointed right-hand man. "Congratulations, Lord Vilgax," Psyphon groveled, bowing deeply. "The great conqueror of ten worlds."
Under the Galactic Code of Conduct, an invading force and a defending planet could substitute a full-scale planetary war with a single duel between their greatest champions. The victor claimed total dominion over the loser's world. Ultimos had been the champion of the tenth planet on Vilgax's bloody crusade.
The extraction machine hummed to life, plunging its conduits into Ultimos. In a matter of seconds, the hero's formidable superpowers were violently siphoned away, flowing directly into Vilgax's own augmented physique.
Surging with the combined might of ten planetary champions, Vilgax turned his gaze toward the stars.
"Set a course," Vilgax commanded, his red eyes glowing with malice. "We depart for Earth immediately."
He was going to put on a show.
Back on Earth.
The familiar, slightly battered chassis of the Rustbucket cruised smoothly down a sunlit highway.
Inside the RV, the atmosphere was lively. Alan, Helen, and Pierce were chatting and laughing over a game of cards at the dining table. Up front, Manny sat in the passenger seat, grinning like an idiot, immensely proud of having successfully wrestled the shotgun position away from the others.
Grandpa Max kept his hands steady on the steering wheel, a warm smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. Listening to the energetic banter of the young Plumbers, he felt a wave of nostalgia wash over him. It felt just like the old days, driving cross-country with his own grandchildren. He had truly missed this.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The sentimental moment shattered as a shrill, piercing alarm erupted from the dashboard console. Red warning lights bathed the cabin in a harsh glow.
"What is going on?" Manny jumped, nearly hitting his head on the roof.
"What is that noise?" Helen asked, her playful demeanor vanishing instantly.
Despite their rigorous training over the past few weeks, none of the kids had ever heard the Rustbucket make a sound like that.
Max's smile vanished, replaced by the hardened scowl of a veteran Magister. "That is the interstellar defense grid alarm. The orbital satellites were only brought online a week ago." He gripped the wheel, his knuckles turning white. "An alien dreadnought is entering Earth's atmosphere."
He slammed his foot on the brake, spun the wheel, and threw the heavy RV into a screeching, rubber-burning drift, tearing across the median to head straight back toward the city limits. "This isn't a training exercise, kids! This is the real deal!"
In a sprawling municipal park in the heart of the city.
Psyphon had already touched down, casually setting up the perimeter for the impending duel. Local law enforcement had arrived in droves, but they were entirely powerless. Their bullets simply flattened against Psyphon's personal energy shield, and whenever they tried to advance, the sycophant would casually toss a micro-explosive that vaporized entire police cruisers in blinding flashes of light.
The technological gap was an impossible chasm. The police could only stand back and accept their total powerlessness.
With a flick of his wrist, Psyphon activated a massive energy dome that enclosed the entire park, sealing it off from the outside world. He then threw his arms wide, his voice amplified to a deafening volume. "Behold! I welcome the arrival of the supreme conqueror, Lord Vilgax!"
A pillar of blinding crimson light tore through the clouds, striking the center of the park. As the teleportation beam faded, Vilgax stepped forward. He took a slow breath of the Earth air, a brief, almost nostalgic glint flashing in his cold eyes.
He quickly composed himself, projecting his booming voice across the city. "Foolish Earthlings! Soon, you will all call me master!"
Psyphon hovered beside him, acting as the herald. "By the dictates of the Galactic Code of Conduct, Lord Vilgax hereby challenges the greatest warrior of this planet! The victor shall claim absolute sovereignty over this world!"
Just as the declaration echoed across the park, the heavy roar of an engine interrupted the silence. The white and red bulk of the Rustbucket smashed through the park gates, skidding to a halt right at the edge of the energy field.
"Dream on, you overgrown squid!" a voice shouted from the RV.
Vilgax narrowed his eyes as the doors swung open. He looked past the dust, expecting his old nemesis, but paused in mild surprise. "Max Tennyson? And a ragtag army of Plumber children?"
Hearing the sheer dismissal in the warlord's voice, Cooper snapped. Unable to hold back his temper, the young technopath rushed forward, his eyes glowing blue.
Magnetic fields warped the air around him. Tons of scrap metal, abandoned police cars, and park infrastructure violently ripped free, swirling around Cooper's body to assemble into a massive, four-meter-tall heavily armed mech suit.
Without a word, Cooper unleashed a barrage of high-explosive projectiles straight at Vilgax's chest.
Vilgax didn't even flinch. He drew his massive broadsword and swung it in a single, fluid arc. The resulting shockwave sliced every single projectile out of the air, detonating them prematurely in a cloud of smoke.
"A neat trick," Vilgax rumbled, stepping through the smoke. "But his ability to manipulate technology far surpassed yours."
Before Cooper could react, Vilgax's eyes flared with intense crimson energy. Two thick beams of concussive laser light erupted from his gaze, tearing straight toward the cockpit of the makeshift mech.
A blur of motion swept past. Helen, tapping into her Kineceleran DNA, snatched Cooper out of the pilot's seat a fraction of a second before the red beams impacted. The entire mech exploded into a shower of molten slag.
Vilgax slowly turned his head, locking his glowing eyes on Helen as she skidded to a halt. A cruel, scornful smile twisted his face. "You possess impressive speed. But let us see how you handle this."
His eyes flared again. This time, the red beams shot forward, but instead of moving in a straight line, they zigzagged, locking onto Helen's heat signature.
Helen bolted. She pushed her legs to their absolute limit, becoming a localized tornado as she tore around the perimeter of the park. But no matter how sharply she turned or how fast she sprinted, the tracking beams relentlessly pursued her, closing the distance with terrifying precision.
A sharp cry escaped her lips as the beams finally clipped her legs, sending her tumbling violently across the scorched grass.
Vilgax slowly sheathed his sword, looking down at the fallen girl with a mixture of pity and contempt. "Your speed is adequate. But compared to him... you are painfully slow."
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