Several things happened at once, too quickly for Ben to process until it was over.
The window burst. Fragments of peranite scattered like jagged rain. Light bright enough to render him blind and hot enough to kill him before he could even feel it surged into the room. The Omnitrix flashed brilliantly at his wrist, red flipping to green and spitting out sparks. A transformation hit him forcefully, faster than Ben had ever known them to come. He felt like he had been turned inside out, but he had survived the millisecond that it would have taken for the star to kill him.
When Ben opened his eyes, he was looking down at slender, black fingers curled against the metal flooring beneath him. At some point, he had fallen to his knees. A flap of Big Chill's powerful wings quickly got him back to his feet. Even dazed, the Omnitrix's decision made sense. It was supposed to keep him alive, so Big Chill must have been the first alien that it stumbled upon with space survivability and resistance to extreme heat.
His hand, Ben noticed, was still made of peranite. And it was still shaped like his human hand, too. It looked incredibly disproportionate next to Big Chill's thinner and longer limbs. The Omnitrix hadn't known what to do with the crystallized area, which was not reassuring.
More important problems took his attention, though. The hole that Ben had made by slamming his peranite hand through the window was patched up. It wasn't reinforced, though. A thin layer of peranite had been raised from the ground to seal it against the pocket vacuum that the star was contained in. With Big Chill's eyes though, he could finally stand to look at the star.
It was white and definitely had to be small if it could be contained in such a small area without becoming a black hole. Ben wasn't an astrophysicist, but he knew enough about star formation to be impressed. Flares seemed to rise continuously from its surface, often hitting the viewing windows keeping its heat back. Whatever was coating the outside of them was incredibly powerful. Already, the thin replacement layer of Peranite over the hole was being to boil and turn brittle.
Ben was glad that he hadn't ended up sucked into the void of that star. His plan had been to force the Omnitrix to work correctly, else let him die, but still. He found himself quiet for a moment in the face of how close he had come to a swift death. Had the Omnitrix not turned on at the last possible second, then…
Big Chill turned, fixing his enormous eyes on Argyle. The man was slumped on the ground but still conscious. He had been the one to seal the breach in the window and it was clear why. Whenever they met, Tetrax was always wearing a bodysuit. Ben had assumed that it was for functionality, but he had never put two and two together long enough to realize that Petrosapiens couldn't survive in an empty vacuum.
His crystalline skin was several shades darker and had the look of thin plastic. There were spots where the peranite began to bubble and evaporate, leaving sulfuric blood oozing from splits and ugly cracks. They trailed up Argyle's body, his exposed arms and back, dancing their way up his face. His eyes opened and the look of loathing that Argyle fixed Ben with did more to twist his appearance than any damage from the star could have.
He looked nothing like the prim, put-together government official that Ben had met his first day on Petropia. Maybe he never really did. As Argyle staggered to his feet, Ben was struck by the thought that his mask had finally been burnt away. The man in front of him was the closest to the genuine Argyle that Ben was ever going to get.
"You," he hissed, and immediately had to cough as he aggravated his burnt throat. The huffing breaths that Argyle took were ragged and wet. "I'm… going… to fucking kill you, Tennyson… I'm going to… enjoy mutilating your pathetic… worthless little corpse."
There was no good way to respond to that, so he didn't try. Big Chill blinked at Argyle owlishly. His instinct was to go for a swift, efficient death but, thankfully, those thoughts were muted. He wasn't in any peril so it was easier to think for himself. Even if those instinctive self-defense measures did have a good point…
"You're more than welcome to try," Big Chill said finally. He turned half-away from Argyle, still keeping an eye on the man, but raised his usable hand to coat the dissolving patch on the broken window in a thick sheet of ice. He knew that it wouldn't last forever against a star that close, but hopefully, it would last long enough that it wouldn't matter. "Why don't you just give up now and come quietly? The Plumbers are already near. You've lost. Admit it and save us both a lot of time."
Argyle laughed without any amusement. His skin was slowly patching itself back together but, even though it clearly caused him pain, he transformed his remaining hand into the head of a pike. "Surrender?" He spat. "I would sooner… kill myself than give you the… the satisfaction. I don't care about winning. Not… not anymore. I only care that you lose," Argyle snarled. "There's no one here to save you this time, Tennyson. You're going to die. That's… that's enough for me."
There was no point in replying. Ben knew the look in his eyes. He had seen the same expression on countless villains, faces that blurred into nothing. No matter what Ben said, it wouldn't have any effect on Argyle. He had made up his mind. He was too far gone to listen to reason, even if it was in his best interest. Despite it all, Ben hoped that he didn't have to end their fight with death. But, in case it became necessary, he steadied himself and promised that he would be ready and willing to go through with it if he had to. There could be no room for hesitation with someone like Argyle.
"Have it your way, then," Big Chill said. "Maybe it will make a good story for you to share with the other inmates who have tried to kill me and failed."
Furious, Argyle rushed forward. He had called Patience predictable, but he wasn't much better. In a graceful arc over Argyle's head, Big Chill dodged, hitting him with a blast of cold breath to the back. Ice crackled and grew over his body, but it barely stopped Argyle for a second. He broke it with one powerful twist of his torso, turning hard to face Big Chill again.
With only one arm, his peranite attacks weren't as numerous as before, but that didn't mean that they weren't successful. A slab dropped from the ceiling, almost crushing Big Chill before he turned his body intangible and felt the peranite chunk slip harmlessly through him.
Had Necrofriggians possessed the muscles to frown, Big Chill would have done it. He dodged another jab from Argyle, avoiding his pike, absentmindedly. That wasn't good. Although he was protected from the worst of Argyle's attacks, Big Chill couldn't harm him, either. Ice wouldn't be effective against an opponent made of crystal. So he needed to change things up.
Abruptly, Big Chill dropped down behind Argyle, landing a solid kick on his back that sent him flying. He wouldn't be down for long, but it gave Ben enough time to slap the Omnitrix symbol on his chest and let the familiar transformation process wash over him.
He grew lighter as his skin and muscles and bone all disappeared — even his peranite hand simply ceased to be a part of him. They didn't become an equivalent of his new body, they simply weren't there anymore. Power festered inside of him and then Ben became it, and with that much possibility, came a fierce hunger for more. He struggled to tap that down, then relaxed as the Omnitrix formed a physical restraint. Metal surrounded him, forcing all of that power to form limbs, something similar to a body. When the light from the Omnitrix died down, NRG stood proud and confident.
He was half-expecting Argyle to scoff or make some quip about what a useless alien Ben had chosen, but the man said nothing. He didn't even arch an eyebrow. Argyle snarled and faced his hand toward the ground. With a tug of his fist, spikes began bursting through the ground at NRG's feet. They knocked him off balance, sent him toppling over, but the points were chipped off whenever they made contact with his metal suit.
When NRG made no move to stand or defend himself, the ground stopped rolling. Spikes towered above his head like a twisted birdcage. He heard slow footsteps until, cautiously, Argyle peered over him. He was still angry beyond reason but, beneath that, he was incredulous and confused.
"What is this?" He snapped, gesturing at NRG. "Some sort of joke?"
"Some sort," NRG agreed pleasantly. "That must make you the punchline!" He surged to his feet in a motion far quicker and more graceful than his clunky appearance let on. His fist connected with Argyle's chin, sending him straight up and hitting the ceiling hard.
Instead of falling back down, Argyle dug his hands in and hung there. An energy blast burst from the cracks in NRG's faceplate. Argyle brought up a peranite construct to block it at the last second, but the hit still caused the peranite to burst apart. Stunned, Argyle lost his grip and fell. NRG caught him by the neck, barely tall enough to hold the Petrosapien off the ground.
"Well, now I know that my attacks work on peranite. I was a little worried that they wouldn't," NRG said with a smirk in his voice. He drew Argyle closer. Even without physical eyes, the sheer intensity of the energy radiating from inside of his suit was far more effective than any glare. With a wince, Argyle was forced to look away. "So, do you want to admit defeat yet? I could do this all day."
Argyle sneered in disgust. "Did you not hear me before, Tennyson? I said that I would rather die and I meant it. Although, if we're talking about it, I would much prefer that you die." He curled his hand into a fist and the ground beneath them shook.
At the last second, NRG realized what was about to happen and dropped Argyle as he took a stumbling step backward. A hole opened up in the floor where they had been, the steel severed into a clear circle by razor-sharp strips of peranite. Argyle fell into it, but not far. A platform caught him and propelled him right back to the top with a grunt of effort from him. He angled himself at NRG and tackled him. They both went to the ground, Argyle on top of him and keeping NRG pinned as he tried to twist away.
Peranite grew from the floor, binding his wrists and ankles and creeping up NRG's hulking body. Frustrated, he blew energy out through his faceplate, but Argyle dodged with a swerve of his head. "Get… off of… me!" NRG grunted, his hands lighting up beneath the peranite restraints. A single, powerful blast from both of his fists shattered the crystal and NRG leaned up enough to easily hit Argyle in the chest at point-blank range.
There was the sound of shattering peranite as Argyle was sent flying. He hit the reinforced viewing window with a sharp thud that left a spider web of cracks along it. Thankfully, the glass didn't break. Argyle lifted his head slowly, bleeding heavily from the empty cavity in his chest that was already beginning to close itself. He opened his mouth, probably to insult Ben, but all that came out was a grunt as he took a deep breath and stumbled to his feet. Whatever the healing limits for a Petrosapien were, he had to be getting close. He looked awful.
Ben was almost starting to feel sorry for the guy. Almost.
"Why don't we wrap this up?" NRG grunted. Inside of his suit, he focused his energy away and was rewarded when the top of his suit popped open. His true form, a vaguely humanoid-shaped mass of energy, burst out with a grin. It always felt amazing to be out of that prison. Speaking of…
He darted toward Argyle with nimble speed, easily dodging the flurry of peranite shards sent his way. With a graceful swoop, NRG grabbed Argyle under the arms, lifting him off the ground. He was assuming that Petrosapiens were immune to radiation, being made of crystal and all. With the way that Argyle was struggling against him, it didn't seem like he was feeling any negative side effects. Luckily, being made out of pure energy, NRG was difficult to hurt.
In a smooth motion, Argyle was shoved feet-first into the metal suit that NRG had been locked in. He was too wide to fit through the opening entirely, but a strong shove forced Argyle in up to the elbows, effectively rendering him immobile.
"Tennyson!" Argyle shouted, outraged. Floating next to him, NRG could hear clanging on the inside of the suit. But no matter how many times Argyle tried to penetrate the metal casing, it was hopeless. He even tried expanding what was left of his body to similarly no effect. "What is this? What did you do?"
With a chuckle, NRG lowered himself down to touch his feet to the ground. "What? I thought you prided yourself on knowing everything? Don't you know that the only material strong enough to break my casing is taydenite?" He didn't have the muscles required in order to smirk, but smugness was dripping from his voice. "Sorry. Peranite is only the second-best, remember? You'll have to try harder if you want out of there."
He turned away from Argyle, leaving the man to fester in his fury and continue spitting curses and insults. Smacking the Omnitrix, NRG reverted to Ben. Settling back into skin after being an energy being was always difficult and, unfortunately, his peranite hand was back too.
With Argyle taken care of, it wouldn't take much for the Plumbers to load him up and take him away once they arrived. Ben wished that he could give Gwen his exact location through the mana field or whatever, but he wasn't an Anodite. If he could find a way to a communications room, then maybe he could shut off whatever cloaking device was being used. The easy answer was to destroy the power core, but Ben didn't want to kill all of his friends so he would have to find the long way around.
First things first, though, he darted over to where Patience was still on the ground. She had gone still a while ago, probably unconscious. He knelt down next to her, unsure. The peranite shaft of a sword was still stuck in her chest and Ben was caught with indecision. It looked like she had lost a lot of blood, but he didn't know how to tell if a Petrosapien was alive or not. He couldn't remember ever having a heartbeat as Diamondhead and, even if he did, he probably wouldn't have been able to feel it. Should he take the sword out? Ben knew that, for a human, it was better to leave whatever someone had been stabbed with where it was to hold in the blood and to prevent anything from breaking off inside of the victim, but he didn't know if that same first aid rule applied to Petrosapiens. Would Patience heal faster if Ben removed it? Maybe having it still inside of her was slowing the process down or stopping it entirely. Was she even still alive?
Thinking of Popigai, Ben scowled. No, he wasn't going to let her die. "I'm going to kill you if you die like this," he muttered. "You have so much shit to apologize for. The next time I see you after all of this is done, I'm turning into Diamondhead just to punch you. But I can't do that if you die so hold out at least a little longer, okay?"
He took a deep breath, carefully grabbing the base of the sword. It was rounded but still hurt his fingers to grasp. If he held anywhere else though, Ben knew that he was going to end up cutting himself. He pulled, gently, but didn't even succeed in nudging Patience. Grasping it more tightly, Ben leaned back, putting his weight behind it. Slowly, the blade began to move. It was hard not to jostle it around while he was removing it, but Ben did his best. The length of the blade was slick with blood and made an awful grating sound against Patience's skin as peranite rubbed together. Ben clenched his jaw against the urge to cover his ears and, with one final hard pull, he yanked the sword free and his momentum sent him tumbling back with a grunt.
Sure enough, blood was pouring heavily from the hole in Patience's chest. Ben crawled over to her side anxiously. He was prepared to use his shirt to stem the bleeding if he had to, unsure if it would even help, but relaxed when he noticed her skin beginning to stitch itself up. Letting out a sigh of relief, Ben tossed the sword away and stood. Patience would be fine. Probably. She would likely be unconscious for some time, but Ben couldn't do anything about that. It wasn't like he was strong enough to move her or stupid enough to wake her.
Somehow, he still couldn't believe that she had taken a sword through the chest for him. Ben stared at her a moment longer, caught between indignation and gratitude, before turning away with a sigh. He would work out something to say by the time she woke up.
Murowa was still collapsed where Ben had left her. He approached her more cautiously, aware of what had happened the last time he thought that she was unconscious. When she didn't make any move to attack him, though, Ben knelt down and carefully prodded her. Touching Murowa without her insistent threats and taunts to fill the silence was like an out-of-body experience. Her skin had a rubbery quality to it that Ben had never noticed before. He touched her hair idly and it felt like felt.
He knew even less about Nemuinas than he did about Petrosapiens, but Ben pressed his fingers against her neck to feel for a pulse. There was one, but it was irregular and a lot stronger than Ben had anticipated for someone her size. He wasn't sure if that was a good sign or not, but since he hadn't physically hurt her, he felt it safe to assume that Murowa was simply unconscious and her heartbeat was normal.
Finished with them, Ben jogged back over to where he left Argyle. The man somehow managed to look even angrier than he was before, but he was no longer struggling. Resigned, he glared as Ben as though he would give anything for the ability to kill someone with just a look. He obviously wouldn't be very cooperative, but Ben had to try.
"Hey," he said casually, "so, you've got a cloaking device on around this station, right? You wouldn't happen to know how to turn it off, would you?"
Argyle snorted in disbelief. "Of course I do. I'm the one who turned it on," he said impatiently. "And I'm sure that you would love for me to come right out and tell you where it is and how to turn it off, wouldn't you?"
"Uh, yeah." Ben nodded. "That's sort of why I asked."
It was lucky that NRG's suit remained once Ben had turned back to human. Argyle lurched forward in his makeshift restraint, straining as though desperate to get his hands around Ben's neck. When it became clear that he still wasn't getting out of that suit, he cursed, loudly, and settled into a sullen silence.
After a moment of staring at each other (or, glaring, in Argyle's case), Ben sighed and decided to try again. It wasn't like he had many other options that weren't a complete waste of time. "You know, if you cooperate, the Plumbers will go easier on you," Ben pointed out. "At this point, you're not really getting anything from being stubborn. The Plumbers are going to find us eventually, with or without a cloaking device in the way. You might as well take your defeat with whatever dignity you've got left."
"Defeated?" Argyle bristled with indignation at the very thought. "This isn't a defeat. This is a minor setback." He had resumed twisting his torso around, trying to wiggle out.
Ben could only shake his head as a scowl came to his face. "Why are you even bothering?" He asked impatiently. "I don't mean that just because you've obviously lost. I mean, even if you hadn't, what are you even getting out of this? All you're doing is trying to cause as many people at once as much harm as possible." And that was when it finally made sense to him. Murowa's words echoed in his head and, despite everything that had happened on that station, Ben suddenly grinned and burst out laughing. "God, you're still just a child by Petrosapiens standards, aren't you? And you're throwing a fit right now because you didn't get your way! Oh my God, that's just— that's sad! I almost feel bad for you. You're just doing these things so that you can pretend you're powerful and in control. It's like you're overcompensating for something."
He couldn't help but laugh. When Murowa had called Argyle childish, Ben hadn't understood at the time. But seeing the man so affronted, insisting otherwise when he had clearly been beaten, Ben was struck by the mental image of a toddler throwing himself to the ground and beating his fists and kicking wildly over misplacing his favorite toy.
Purple-faced with rage, Argyle said nothing until Ben quieted his laughter. And, when he did speak, it was softly and with a calmness that should have concerned Ben. "I said that it's not over," he stated. "The Plumbers might arrive, but you aren't going with them. Alive, anyway."
Unimpressed, Ben rolled his eyes. "A death threat? Wow, I've never heard one of those before. Let me guess what comes next—"
He didn't get to finish. Suddenly, Argyle burst out of the suit and to his feet. Ben lurched back, reaching for the Omnitrix, only for a wicked headbutt to send him to his knees with stars in his eyes and the world spinning. He groaned, trying to stand, and had the breath knocked out of him when Argyle slammed a foot in Ben's gut that had him rolling to a stop across the room.
"How did you managed to…?" Ben mumbled, eyes flickering over Argyle with confusion as he approached. Then he saw it. The man's other arm — the left one, that wasn't scarred by Red Sleep venom — was missing from the elbow down. Ben couldn't keep the surprise off of his face. Argyle had used the neck of the suit to grind his arm away until it fell off and allowed him to escape. That must have been why he was squirming so much.
He picked himself back up, leaning his left arm on the wall for support while he wrapped his right one around his abdomen. Maybe it was Ben's imagination, but he could have sworn that the places where he had been stabbed were throbbing. At least Murowa had healed those injuries. Hopefully.
"Are you really going to fight me without arms?" Ben asked as Argyle approached. He was moving more slowly than usual and his Petrosapien healing rate had dropped considerably. The time out feature on the Omnitrix had kept Ben from overworking Diamondhead and he was thankful for that because the results certainly didn't look pretty. "It won't be much of a fight. I thought that you said you hadn't been defeated. Sure you wanna push it?"
"I also said that I would rather die than surrender," Argyle shot back with a sneer. "Do you still think that I was being hyperbolic? You'll have to kill me before I let myself go into Plumber custody, Tennyson."
Ben's eyes narrowed, his expression hard and unreadable. "Yeah," he said. "I know."
With his arms out of commission, the best that Argyle could do to command peranite was lash out with sheets it by using his leg. A side-kick that was nowhere near Ben launched a peranite slab that grew from the wall, narrowly missing his head as Ben dropped to his knees and rolled to avoid a spike from the ground. For all of his talk, though, it was clear that Argyle was struggling. He was grinding his teeth with frustration and probably a lot of pain, sending attacks at Ben that came much slower than before. Other than the first burst of peranite that caught him off guard, Ben was having an embarrassingly easy time dodging.
He kept his hand over the Omnitrix dial, just in case, but it didn't seem like Ben was going to need it. He side-stepped, ducked, jumped, and didn't seem to be at any risk of getting hit. And, as cruel as it was, he found it difficult to take Argyle seriously when he was panting and flailing around with no arms beneath the elbows.
He knew that he should fight back, at least to knock Argyle unconscious, and yet Ben found himself hesitating. It didn't seem fair to him. The man was running on fumes, barely still in one piece, and Ben didn't feel right about going alien to finish him off.
His indecision didn't go unnoticed. "Why aren't you… fighting back?" Argyle demanded through heaving breaths. He had stopped his assault, likely justifying it to himself as pausing to speak, but Ben knew that it was just an excuse for him to pull himself together. "You aren't going to get... anywhere just dodging, Tennyson. Come on, hit me!"
"I don't really think I need to." Ben shrugged, a grimace on his face. "Between the two of us, I think that I can keep this up for longer than you. I just have to wait you out."
That must have struck a blow to Argyle's pride. He looked genuinely surprised for a moment, then scowled deeper than before. "That's what you think, huh? You think this is a joke," he hissed.
Whether Ben actually thought that or not was irrelevant. He didn't get a chance to answer before Argyle was rushing at him. No longer relying on peranite projectiles, he swung his leg out to try and knock Ben to the ground. Even without arms, the stumps of his arms were jagged and sharp enough to draw blood. Ben automatically backpedaled to avoid them, starting to duck under Argyle's arm to get around him, only for a wicked punch to his back to knock the breath out of him. Something in his spine popped, loudly, and Ben hit the floor with a hiss. Every twist of his upper body caused his back to protest. He was hoping that it was just a joint, but he had an awful, sinking feeling that it wasn't.
Even as he started to crawl out of the way, Ben knew that he wouldn't get far. Argyle's foot came down on his back, pushing down until it felt like Ben's ribs would crack under the pressure. He let out an involuntary wheeze as the breath was knocked from him and Argyle relaxed his foot a little.
Above Ben, the man chuckled. "If I had my hands, I would wrap my fingers around your skull and squeeze until it popped like a grape. It worked so well on your friend, remember?"
Ben did. He grunted and reached for the Omnitrix.
As soon as he did, the foot dug in harder, causing Ben to cry out in pain. Argyle growled in warning and released the pressure only after Ben was again lying still.
"Can you transform faster than I can put my heel through your spine?" Asked Argyle.
He let out a noise of disbelief. "What does it matter? You want to kill me anyway!" Ben snapped with impatience. And yet, he held himself still.
That time, Argyle didn't laugh. He merely hummed, as though considering something. The pressure on Ben's back shifted thoughtfully. "True," Argyle finally admitted. He raised his foot and brought it slamming down.
At the last second, Ben rolled out of the way. He tried to touch the Omnitrix but had to put his hands under himself to roll out of the path of a blow that shattered the ground where he had been laying. Ben got to his knees and was again knocked over, that time by taking Argyle's knee to the chin. The force of it sent Ben's teeth clacking together, hard enough that his gums ached and his ears were ringing. His face would have an ugly bruise in an hour and Ben could taste blood in his mouth from where he had bitten his tongue.
Laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling, everything was spinning. Vaguely, Ben saw the form of a Petrosapien swimming in and out of his vision. He instinctively reached for the Omnitrix, but Argyle pinned his wrist to the ground with his foot. Even with his head still throbbing, Ben tried to squirm free. There was nowhere to go, though. Above him, Argyle held up his stump of a right arm. He said nothing. There were no taunts or promises or brags. Argyle aimed at Ben's head and brought his arm swinging down.
There was a heavy thud as Argyle made contact. Ben hadn't closed his eyes and stared, lips parted in surprise, at the wings fluttering barely an inch from his face. Thick, purple blood dripped onto his cheek and down his neck.
"What…?" Ben muttered, stunned, and couldn't think of anything else to say.
Murowa groaned weakly and shot a glittering ball of golden dust at Argyle with one hand, the other clutching her stomach. They both collapsed at the same time — Argyle, into unconsciousness, and Murowa onto Ben's chest as she writhed in agony, curling in on herself and struggling to keep her eyes open.
He finally remembered how to move his limbs and Ben sat up straight with a jolt, curling his arms out to catch Murowa in the cradle of his hands. The motion made her curse, hissing something sharp in her own language as blood poured faster. And there was a lot of it. Ben swallowed thickly at the sight of his shirt soaked through. It had already gone cold.
"Let me look," Ben insisted gently, prying her arms away from the wound. It didn't require her cooperation. Murowa was in too much pain to stop him and he got a good look at the injury.
As soon as he saw it, Ben grimaced. The hole was big enough to take up her entire stomach and it looked like it had been flattened, nearly coming out the other side. His mind spun at the idea of all those broken bones, the destroyed organs, the crushed blood vessels…
Carefully, Ben leaned forward and set her down on the ground with as much gentleness as he could muster while still being hasty. Which wasn't a lot. Even as he took off his shirt, pressing it to the wound in Murowa's stomach, Ben knew that she wouldn't make it. Without immediate medical care, the wound was too excessive.
He bit his lip, sending a glance at Argyle. The man was still out cold, but Ben didn't know how much longer. "Can't you heal yourself?" He asked Murowa desperately. "I've been a Nemuina before. It's an instinct, right? This wouldn't kill you." Would it?
She laughed and immediately dissolved into a coughing fit, hacking out blood onto her fingers and a lump of something that Ben really hoped wasn't part of an intestine. Murowa collapsed immediately after, limp and panting and soaked in sweat. "Believe me…" She wheezed, voice sounding clogged and wet, "this isn't… how I wanted it to go, either… Ben. But I..." Slowly, she shook her head, and even that seemed to take a painful amount of energy. "I can't… feed off of… either of you anymore. And without food…" She didn't finish, but she didn't need to.
"What?" Ben kept one hand on her stomach in a faint attempt to stem the bleeding. His other hand grasped hers, giving a squeeze when she clearly didn't have the strength to. "What do you mean you can't feed…? Me and Argyle?" His brow furrowed in confusion, then his eyes widened in understanding. "Oh."
That time, Murowa knew better than to laugh, but her smile twisted unpleasantly. "Yes. It is… unfortunate. There's no one around… that I can feed on…" She looked up at Ben but, where he was expecting to see anger and resentment, he saw her eyes turning unfocused and hazy. Beneath that disassociation was something he had never seen on Murowa's face before: fear. "I didn't mean to… get myself killed," she admitted softly. "But I didn't… didn't want to see you die. That didn't leave me with… a lot of options."
"Shut up," Ben muttered. "You're not going to die. You… you'll be fine. You'll be totally alive and comfy in a maximum-security prison when this is all over. You're not… you can't…"
Her smile turned fond and Murowa managed to give his hand a squeeze. "There's that… optimism that I despise," she forced out, interrupting herself with a slick cough. "It won't be so bad… Being dead. I've lived for... nearly five-hundred years. And I'll get to be wherever… e-ever Diavik is. I'm sure it's… filled with fire an-and brimstone." Her grip on Ben's hand weakened.
When her eyes closed, Ben let out a shaking breath. He removed his hand from hers and left his soaked shirt wrapped around her midsection. Strangely enough, Ben didn't even feel the cold. He wasn't sure how to feel. Murowa had done awful things but, in the end, she had given her life to save him. And regardless, Ben never wanted her to die. He never wanted anyone to die.
As he got to his feet, he heard something shift behind him. Ben turned and wasn't surprised to see Argyle finally picking himself up off of the ground. Suddenly, Ben found himself irrationally angry. If Argyle had just given up the first time instead of continuing to push, if he had been less vengeful, if he hadn't been so ruthless and at least moved his unconscious friend to a safe location before trying to kill Ben…
If Murowa hadn't loved Argyle, she could have fed off of him. She could still be alive.
As he straightened, Argyle's gaze finally landed on Murowa. Confusion registered first, then concern, and then the realization hit like a train. For once, Argyle ignored Ben completely. He rushed forward and dropped to his knees next to her. His right arm had healed back some, enough that Argyle had a wrist again, but still lacked hands. His arms twitched as though he longed to take Murowa into his hold, cradle her body like it was something precious. The distraught on his face nearly turned hysterical when he remembered that he couldn't even do that much.
Just like that, Ben felt his upset with Argyle evaporate. No, it wasn't his fault that Murowa had been a casualty. She had said so herself, that she made the decision to protect Ben. Why, he wasn't sure he would ever know. Maybe it was because she really had grown to like him in the time that he had been her prisoner. Maybe it was out of the desire to keep him alive for further experimentation. Maybe whatever Ben had done in her head left her disoriented, like having a concussion. He would never be able to be certain. But either way, it wasn't a reason for Ben to be mad at Argyle. He had plenty of other reasons to loathe the man but, at least for the moment, Argyle was just someone who had lost a friend and was in a great deal of pain.
"Hey, I—" Ben stepped forward, wanting to be comforting, and Argyle turned such a withering glare on him that Ben froze. The moment was over, apparently.
Slowly, as though every movement put him in agony, Argyle stood. He faced Ben with no emotion on his face and it was somehow more intimidating than any scowl the man had ever sent his way. He was shaking, Ben realized. Trembling from the effort of holding himself back, Argyle made eye-contact.
The dam broke. Argyle's face contorted into fury as he shouted, leaping into the air and slamming his arm into the ground where Ben had been standing a split-second ago. The force of his hit was so intense that the steel flooring snapped, a large hole caving in, and small splinters of Argyle's still-broken arm chipped off. He either didn't notice, or he was too focused on tearing Ben into pieces to care.
That time, he didn't hesitate. Any concerns about it being a fair fight were washed away and Ben hit the Omnitrix just as Argyle was straightening back up.
He barely even felt the transformation. Ben was backpedaling, hurriedly putting distance between them, and he felt himself growing bigger and tougher as his diamond-hard arms blocked Argyle's shots just in time to avoid getting a peranite shard through his skull.
"Stop this!" Diamondhead shouted. It changed nothing. The next wild punch was aimed at his stomach. He caught the blow with his hand, squeezing hard to keep Argyle from moving back in the hopes that he would be able to listen to reason. "It's over, you've lost! The best thing that you can do for yourself and Murowa is come quietly."
That was the wrong thing to say. Argyle screamed in indignation, slamming his head into Diamondhead's chin. Surprised, he let go, and the next second Argyle had knocked him onto his feet. He was still raining down punches, seeing red, as Diamondhead focused on scrambling out of the way.
"Don't you ever say her name!" Argyle howled. "You did this! First Diavik, then Murowa, now my entire business and everything I've worked for! It's all your fault! All of this is because of you! Death is too good for you, Tennyson," he seethed with venom. "You're going to live, and you're going to beg me for death long before you're permitted to have it! You've taken everything from me!"
Diamondhead rolled out of the way and, as Argyle's fist made contact with the ground, he jerked his hand and caused a peranite pilar to slam forward and meet it. Argyle went flying, hitting the ceiling and falling to the ground with a heavy slam that nearly caused the floor to break again. From the hole, he picked himself up with a noticeable limp. Still, Ben felt bad for him. Their fight was starting to make him feel sad. How much more was the man going to put himself through for revenge?
"You know you can't beat me. Surrender and this can all be over," Diamondhead said, almost coaxing. In a room that had been filled with their fight moments before, his muttered plea was deafening.
For a moment, it seemed as though Argyle was going to accept. His expression fell, shoulders slumped, and he opened his mouth… Only for something else to catch his eye. And, like that, Argyle hardened all over again. "I don't have to beat you," he said. "I just have to make sure that you aren't going to win."
Before Ben could guess what that was supposed to mean, Argyle took off running. He didn't stop for a moment — he darted right up to the star's control panel and drove both stump-arms straight through it. The wiring crackled, sparking, and the star flared violently. So much so that, through the windows and despite the fact that he was made of peranite, even Diamondhead felt the heat.
He grabbed Argyle by the back of the head and tossed the man into the ground, but the damage was done. The machinery behind Diamondhead began to whir loudly. Parts of it caught fire while others simply had all of their lights go off at once. All the while, the star was getting brighter and hotter. Had Diamondhead been able to tolerate looking at it, he wouldn't have been surprised to see it growing in size.
"What did you do?" Diamondhead demanded, pressing his foot against Argyle's neck to keep him pinned.
Beneath him, Argyle laughed almost gleefully. "If I can't see my friends ever again, then neither can you, Tennyson. And if you can't suffer, they'll do it for you. At least you'll be getting a blaze of glory. A true hero's death, they'll say!"
There had to be a way to stop that star from destroying everything. Ben forgot about Argyle entirely, mind whirring. There was no way that the others could survive the star expanding. Even without a degree, Ben knew that stars were massive and that thing would expand fast when the remaining circuitry finally gave out. He had no idea how long that would take, but Ben wasn't going to push his luck. He could always use Alien X to stop it, but would he have time? Did he have any other aliens that could do the job?
Ben wasn't given the chance to decide. Argyle twisted out from underneath him, broke another hole in the floor, and dragged Diamondhead down with him into the room below.
The only light came from the hole above them as they crashed through multiple floors. All the while, Argyle was on top of him, refusing to let Diamondhead get his bearings. Even without hands, he was doing his best to try and punch a hole straight through Ben.
When they stopped, four floors down from where they started, it was only because the ground suddenly refused to yield. Diamondhead hit it hard, sent skidding away as Argyle went in the opposite direction. Dazed, he blinked confusedly around him.
The floor was made of peranite. Even odder, so were the walls. Not the ceiling, though. There were machinery and wiring crisscrossing the ceiling high above their heads that wouldn't have worked if it had been embedded in peranite. Getting to his feet, Diamondhead grimaced. The room left a funny taste in his mouth. It made him feel itchy. He didn't even know that Petrosapiens could have itches.
Getting to his feet, Diamondhead sent Argyle a weak glare. Despite having been dropped through several floors, he still wasn't in the mood to fight. Regardless, he sharpened his good hand into a point, for self-defense if nothing else. "What is this place?" He demanded. Before he had asked it, Ben had a pretty good idea of what the answer would be. He just hoped that he was wrong.
Argyle shook his head. He tried to stand but his legs buckled, giving out. He forced himself to his knees anyway. "Come now, Tennyson. I know that things are different on Earth, but surely you recognize a prison when you see one?"
It wasn't surprising, but Diamondhead winced anyway. The room was the size of a football stadium and completely, achingly empty. He had thought that Murowa was only prodding him when she mentioned "disposing" of the other Petrosapiens since the Omnitrix could churn them out on command, but he should have known better than to believe that false comfort. Murowa had said so herself: she was a woman of her word. She hadn't lied. All of the kidnapped Petrosapiens were dead.
Diamondhead clenched his jaw, shaking. He felt sick. The rage fueled him, spurring the urge to throw the first punch, but he hated that side of himself. He hated forgetting himself to the fury, hated losing control, hated seeing nothing but red and a target to hit. It was through sheer force of while that Diamondhead didn't put Argyle through the floor for that comment alone. "You're a Petrosapien," he spat instead.
The man glanced around and seemed to reach the same conclusion that Ben had. "So are you," he pointed out.
They both made a move at the same time. Argyle launched himself upward, but he barely had the strength to stand, let alone jump. Using a beam of peranite to give himself a boost, Diamondhead dug his fingers into the wall with an unpleasant crunch each time and was quickly scaling the peranite walls. It helped that he could make his own grips and footholds by thinking about it. Although, his diamond-hard human hand wasn't making it much easier or doing him any favors.
It wasn't much of a race. Diamondhead had reached the ceiling by the time that Argyle had even managed to start. As hard as he had been pushing himself during their encounter, it was surprising that he could manage that much.
It took a moment, but Diamondhead found the pipe for pumping Red Sleep venom. He knew that it was the right one because it was see-through, churning with a yellow-tinted gas that instinctively made Diamondhead want to turn and run. He forced himself not to, finding a way to sit on the pipes before turning back to human.
Perched up there, Ben rested his peranite hand on the pipe. It was a very large one, thick enough that he could have laid down comfortably in it. Despite the size of the room, Ben imagined that it wouldn't take long for the gas to read Argyle. For gas, it was surprisingly heavy. It would sink, slowly but surely, and then…
Then it would finally be over.
"Last chance!" Ben called down to Argyle. His throat was tight but he pushed through his personal discomfort. It was necessary. He had already decided. "Just surrender and I can put you back in NRG's suit and this can all be over."
Despite the distance between them, it was pretty much impossible to miss the glare that Argyle sent up at Ben. "Do I need to repeat myself?" He shouted back, still attempting to climb.
Ben sighed. He was disappointed but not surprised. He swallowed thickly and it tasted like bile. "No, you don't," muttered Ben. There was no sense in wasting any more time. He brought his peranite hand down hard on the side of the pipe and did it again, dotting the length of it as more and more Red Sleep venom poured out. His hand was tinged red when Ben finally called it good, but he couldn't feel it. He was hoping that the damage to his body was still repairable, even if the venom had hollowed out holes in his arm and melted away some of what used to be his skin.
At first, Argyle tried to shoot at Ben. Unfortunately for him, it was difficult to aim with a bunch of machinery in the way, not to mention the distance between them. The closest hits struck the pipe that Ben was clinging to and all that did was cause the venom to seep into the room faster than before.
Frowning, Ben craned his head over the side to look down at Argyle, watching him run around like a chicken with its head cut off. There were no doors in the room and Argyle couldn't control peranite without hands — not very well, anyway. He tried to punch his way through the floor but there was a forcefield waiting to meet him. It gave off a little shock of electricity and sent Argyle bounding backward. The gas twisted lower as Argyle grew more frantic. Ben forced himself to watch, much as he would have loved to look away.
It was clear when the venom hit Argyle because he made a noise that couldn't quite be described as a "shriek," but conveyed the same amount of raw terror regardless. He screamed and rubbed frantically at his body with his stumps, only succeeding in rubbing the venom around further. And then he was quiet.
As soon as the screaming stopped, Ben hit the Omnitrix. He was falling before the transformation had even finished and XLR8 hit the ground running. At the speed that he was going, picking Argyle up wasn't hard. It was more difficult to maintain a hold on him, but Ben didn't want to think about why that was. He poured on as much speed as he could and ran up the walls, over the ceiling, and back through the hole where they had come from.
He didn't bother going all the way back up. Once they were clear, XLR8 set Argyle down and ripped a mounted desk out of the wall. The room that they were in looked like it might have been an office and it made Ben sick to think about what sort of "business" was being conducted above a prison like that. But he placed it over the hole to keep all of the Red Sleep venom where it was. As the Omnitrix timed out, Ben's heart was racing from something that had nothing to do with exhaustion, and he turned to Argyle. There was still the issue with the star to fix, and yet…
Argyle stirred. Red slurry was dripping from his body, coating him in a semi-translucent layer that looked far too much like blood. Both of his arms would be ruined. The hands were never going to grow back. And Ben had caused that.
"Why…?" Argyle rasped, as though every breath took effort that he couldn't give. "Why didn't you… let me d-die?" There was something shimmering in his eyes. Ben told himself that they weren't tears, but he didn't believe it.
He started to answer and found nothing to say. At the moment, it had seemed like the less cruel option. But there, staring down at the man he had permanently crippled not only of two of his limbs but his ability to connect with his own planet, Ben couldn't believe that. So he said nothing at all.
It didn't feel like a victory for him. Ben should have just let Argyle die.
It would have been more merciful.
A/N: I have nothing to add. Wasn't this chapter fucking wild? Next is our last chapter!
Chapter Forty: Move Heaven and Earth
