I do not own any Ben 10 characters, nor do I claim to. My writing prowess and creativity is like a flood. An open sewage line, to be exact. Endless and torrential. And most importantly, full of shit!
Slaves were mining the kormite and putting it into the dimensional bore's basin.
"Generic beige prose exposition line of dialogue informing everyone of what my current actions are and how this came to be. Writing is hard!" yelled one of the background extras of Voided. "But that's all going to change! Even without the interference of Ben Tennyson. I'm going to break free and kick D'Void's fat ass!"
The slave promptly dumped his bucket of kormite. He ran towards D'Void's inner chamber.
"Hey, yeah, that guy isn't completely out of character and insane," shouted another extra. "Let's go follow him into what should have presumably been a horrifyingly painful and imminent death, but won't be because everything is out of character and nothing makes sense!"
"Huzzah for out of character nonsense!" cheered the rest of the slaves. They all bum-rushed D'Void's inner sanctum.
They ran up the spiral staircase, past the rows of expensive China vases, through the hallway of sexy pictures of D'Void and his ugly Mary Sue baby in provocative poses while in their underwear, crying, and eating cake, or brownies, all the way to D'Void's bedroom. Which he had. In his posh mansion. In the Null Void.
They found him sleeping in his queen sized bed, decorated with black ebony sheets, trimmed with gold. Nothing for the fanciest for this Null Tyrant. Ignoring how the heck he came across this stuff in the Null Void. Next to him was his specially hand carved oak wooden baby crib that he had for his FUCKING NULL GUARDIAN BABY. Wait, there's two of them now? Oh, fuck me. When did that happen? For his TWO baby Null Guardians. The two baby Null Guardian things were sleeping cutely with their cute stuffed animals in their cute widdle crib. Sweet artificial butter flavored Jesus.
The group ran up and began yelling for no apparent reason other than they had a death wish and could not figure out how to do anything more stealthily, and by extension, logical, due to poor writing and plot.
"WHAT THE SHIT?" D'Void yelled. He covered his exposed nipples with a bed sheet while blushing furiously out of overtly feminine modesty. Like all viciously testosterone-roided villainous males do. "Hey, what are you assholes doing in here?"
The slaves gave each other passing confused glances. They shrugged.
"We don't know," one of them admitted.
The two wretched Null Guardian baby-Sue things screamed and began sob-shrieking at the top of their lungs, or whichever hideously deformed synthetic organs they posses to be able to make all that hideous noise from.
"Well, let's go back to mining that kormite before D'Void randomly goes in character and kicks all our asses," cried a slave.
"Or those creepy ever present Sue things that keep gradually increasing in number like everything during a 30 Sue Pile Up tries to chew our heads off," said another.
"I like my head!" a slave cried.
They all enjoyed having heads. Turns out this intended rebellion had not be the best or brightest course of action.
They fled while screaming and waving their hands.
D'Void looked terribly confused. He looked at the crib. He gasped.
"Oh FUCK ME, when did you freaks start cloning yourselves?"
The baby-things shrieked and jumped onto the bed. They began chewing his face.
"Why?" D'Void sobbed. "Why must the people who claim to love me torture me so?" He sobbed more hysterically. "It's like some kind of sick fetish! Sick, I tell you!"
Ben poked his head through the window. "That's what I ask myself every day!" He winked and gave a thumbs up. Then he began to sob hysterically along with D'Void and his creepy, ugly babies. "Why do people claim to be our biggest fans and then go on to completely mutilate our established canon personalities for their own selfish masturbatory purposes? WHY? PORQUEEEEEEE?!"
Everyone else laughed. Ha, ha!
But secretly, we're all crying inside.
THE END