Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel, Ben 10, or any other material I use for this story. Professional, amateur, or otherwise. This is completely non-profit and for fun.
REVIEWS!
Sakra95: I'm sorry you feel that way. Personally, I don't see how he is SHIELD's punching bag. He is a trained Plumber, but you have to remember that Black Widow is one of the best fighters and assassins in the Marvel Universe. Ben's training was not like Natasha's. When you get trained, you aren't just being taught how to fight and kill people. That's all Natasha was taught. That, and espionage. Ben's not an assassin. He works in Law Enforcement, and those in Law Enforcement aren't martial arts masters. They use their tools and their authority more so in a situation. Hence Ben's blaster, his board, and his other gadgets.
He wasn't following Natasha's orders If anything, she was taking his. She was following his lead up until they got to her apartment. I also stated that he's quietly observing her, and some things do not make sense. I think this says a lot about Ben's character development.
OmnihancedEternatus: It's not that I underestimate Alien X. In Marvel, Alien X is still a force to be reckoned with, but there are dozens of beings and races (like the Celestials) that can reduce Alien X to nothing. There are levels to the cosmic hierarchy. I'm sorry you feel that he's boring like Batman or the Punisher. That wasn't my intention for parrels to be drawn their characters. He's an adult male, nearly in his thirties, who takes his job seriously and knows the responsibility resting on his shoulders. Also, I'm not just making a convenient reason so he doesn't go alien. Trust me; I'm using logic. The Plumbers are a secret to humanity, and Ben isn't supposed to make a huge ruckus. Going around New York with SHIELD's presence looking for alien activity at an all-time high, as an alien, would attract more attention than warranted. Plus, Ben uses the Omnitrix when he needs to, rather than when it's convenient. How many times in the past has he used it prematurely, and when the time came that he really needed it, it wasn't recharged yet?
But I can understand if you no longer like the story. I'm sorry to lose a viewer under those circumstances. I suppose it comes with being a writer.
Marvelesque1Der: Thank you very much! I really appreciate the kind words!
Maximum Rhapsody: Ultimate Forms are unlikely but I'm going to say 'no' or 'yes' either. Ben will have Marvel transformations, of course. The Negative 10 I'm not so sure would work, but never say never. I have no idea what might unfold dozens of chapters in the future. As of now, I have no plans including the Negative 10. Even the name is pretty cool if I do say so myself.
Crazydave3226: Thank you for the compliment! Means a lot coming from you. I read 'What a Marvelous Watch.' You actually helped inspired me to make this story. I appreciate it, really I do. Yes, I did give the pickaxe aliens a name and decided to give them a little lore. I felt that the Ben 10 universe and their aliens kinda lacked some solid lore to add depth. Halo does this fantastically. Any alien race in Halo (especially those in the Convenient), you can read a massive, and detailed wiki page about their home world, politics, and what their race is like. Ben 10 alien lore is quite lacking in my opinion. I want to change that.
The harem entails a couple of members. Not all of them on the pairing poll, no. Maybe four at most. I'm comfortable with huge harems. I hope this chapter kinda changes your opinion on Ben being too trusting of Natasha.
If you all are interested in voting for the pairing, go onto my profile page. I have a poll up right now.
Chapter V: End of the Line.
Director Fury of S.H.I.E.L.D.
Morning came at the same time as every day for him. One for extensive routine, he pulled himself out of his modest bed, then made it impeccably until not a single wrinkle remained. Next, director Fury prepared breakfast: four egg whites, scrambled, two slices of low-fat toasted bread, with four sliced bananas layered on top. He then stepped on a treadmill for half an hour before showering, grooming, and getting dressed.
He pulled on his black sweater, matching pants, boots, and set with a sweeping leather coat that dangled down his ankles. His mangled, milky eye glared back at him as he stared into the mirror. He slipped an eyepatch over it without a hint of aversion at his scarred reflection. Like every other day, he left his D.C apartment on the dot at 6:35 AM. Getting into his black, tinted Chevy Tahoe, he pulled out of his driveway and trudged into work.
Like clockwork, he arrived at the Triskelion only half an hour later. Now, in his office, he peered out through the windows, down at the view of the large lake the Triskelion was built on. Sipping his second morning coffee of the day, he gazed out into the Abraham Lincoln Memorial and the Washington Monument and sighed.
"Get me Romanoff."
"Contacting Romanoff, Natasha."
"Engage soundproofing."
Fury waited patiently for his operating system to breakthrough. He expected to be on the line for quite some time. Romanoff was in the field, after all. She could very well be dealing with an issue at the very moment. Fury remembered being in the field. The days where he was busting down doors, arresting high-profile criminals, investigating supernatural disturbances. Those were some of the best years he ever had.
"Go for Romanoff," a female voice echoed throughout the room.
"Sitrep," Fury ordered.
"I've made contact."
He twitched. "You were supposed to observe from afar."
"I made a judgment call," she replied quickly.
A judgment call. Short for 'I did something stupid, and I can't take it back, but I also can't look incompetent in front of my boss.' Fury recognized it effortlessly. He'd uttered that same line to his superiors countless times to justify getting his foot in the door.
"Is he dead?" Fury hoped not. The president showed up once when all he did was arrest him once. That one time was enough for the World Security Council to arrange a committee. That was four hours of his life he would not be getting back and a pile of paperwork he'd spilled whole a pot of ink to fill out. If he were dead, it would mean more than four hours spent sitting in front of a gallery of postering delegating bureaucrats.
"Negative."
At least there was that. "Why is Tennyson here? Do you know? Or are you just having tea with him and a slice of buttered bread on this nice Wednesday morning?"
"It's morning?"
Shifting uneasily, "Where are you?"
A pause. "Spain," she eventually replied.
"Spain? The fuck are you doing there?" Fury couldn't help his outburst. He wasn't sorry for it. Not the least bit apologetic. She was just in Denver, Colorado eight hours ago.
"Do you want the short answer or the long one?" she sounded just as frank and unapologetic as he was. There was always a coldness to the Black Widow. Unshakable, unwavering, even to his one good eye.
"The one where you tell exactly what I want to know. I want a sitrep, now."
"I trailed him for three days straight. He was constantly on the move and vanished randomly when he briefly escaped my sight."
"Is he enhanced?"
"In some form, yes."
Romanoff was likely only saying this for her benefit. No one had ever shaken her before. She was one of the world's best spies; she was trained to follow targets across the globe from infancy. For years she'd performed this duty without fail. So to hear that someone managed to shake Romanoff's tail was startling, to say the least.
"But you found him after?"
"He left a trail. I followed it. It led me back to him."
So he wasn't an expert in hiding his tracks, then. Someone that could evade Romanoff was a feat in itself. But if he wasn't skillful enough to hide his tracks, not even a little, then there was a great chance she was correct. Maybe he was enhanced. That would explain how he was able to lose her. He probably didn't even know he was followed in the first place.
"Good. Now, why are you in Spain?"
"We're following a lead." Before Fury could question that incredibly vague response, she continued. "I'm working with him. You told me to watch him? Learn everything I can from him? I do my job better from up close. Now, he's following an alien called Vulkanus. He's a wanted man throughout the galaxy. He has soldiers. Little red things with energy rifles."
So, that's what those crispy red aliens were—underlings following the leader. Tennyson either followed Vulkanus to Earth or the other way around. All the more to find out what he was hiding. President Ellis wouldn't have given him that little wink if he wasn't the least bit curious. Even he though something was strange. Now that he'd heard that unidentified aliens were currently running a criminal operation on Earth, his hunch only intensified.
"We managed to track him to Spain."
"What is your assessment of him?"
"Smart. Guarded, focused, driven even. I don't know his motivations for hunting this Vulkanus, but he sounded angered, no—disgusted when he told me that Vulkanus uses technology to enslave others to do his bidding. He has morals. It could be by he's doing this. He feels like it's his moral obligation."
That correlated almost too well with what he already knew—the 'Plumbers,' a galactic police force. From what little President Ellis explained, Ben was one of these Plumbers. So maybe he really was here on a mission. On the other hand, perhaps this was just his toes getting stepped on, rather than this Ben Tennyson being a threat.
"How good is he?"
"As I said, he's focused, extremely intelligent. He managed to track a lead across multiple states and find the one person he was looking for within hours. Beyond his intelligence, that takes years of training and experience. I don't know if he poses any skill in combat. He could very well just be a skilled analyst."
Director Fury strongly doubted that. He was one man who walked alone into a mineshaft and a dozen armed aliens found themselves dead. And he would left, unscathed had they not intervened. Most of those aliens were killed by a weapon. One that released a concentrated beam of pure energy. This aligned with the gun they confiscated from his person. The one he was forced to relinquish back to its owner. He was still sour about that too. Fury had it tested for the brief period he did have it. The blaster shared a lot of common properties with regular guns, except for the obvious fact that they fired lasers instead of lead.
Lips pursed tightly. A thought came to mind. Fury nodded. If she… yes, that could work. "Remain close to him. Get him to trust you. Extract whatever information you can without your cover being blown. And Romanoff? Do not let him die under any circumstances."
"Understood," she replied immediately.
Fury looked up from his desk, no longer thoughtful. "Cut transmission."
Ben Tennyson
Fear cuts deeper than swords, I would tell myself, but that did not make the fear go away. It was as much a part of my days as searching on an empty stomach, blisters on my feet for walking miles upon miles.
When I was still a hero, I was always afraid. During every fight, every world-ending battle, that oppressive fear always weighed on my shoulders. It's why I used to make jokes. To cover that bone-chilling terror because if I didn't, everyone would know just how terrified I was. I knew fear better than most. Whether it was from my self-mastery or from the fear others radiated. I got good at seeing it in others. It was engraved into my soul just like every one of my experiences with the Omnitrix.
It's what allowed me to put myself in the heads of the criminals I was hunting. They felt terror, just as any man did. They thought they were unshakable, acting solely off logic. Their minds convince them of this when they're letting fear fuel their actions in reality. It's this idea that inaction breeds doubt and fear that causes men to act impulsively. I knew how fear influenced the mind. There wasn't a second in any fight I've had before I became a Plumber that I did not feel fear. I put myself in their minds, predicting what they would do next.
Kicking ass was one of the only things I did better than that.
Spain, however, I did not predict. I figured the terrain Vulkanus chose would be mountainous. Difficult to navigate, easy to lay traps for the unsuspecting traveler. Spain had their fair of steep mountain ranges. I just didn't anticipate them leaving America. Sure, if they had a ship, it would have been a painstakingly easy matter for them. I suppose it was just an oversight on my part. I shouldn't have restricted my search parameters so thoughtlessly. Leaving my ship in Wyoming was a mistake, but there was no use complaining about it now.
As we rode in a car she had… acquired, the wind whipped through her scarlet hair. I was tempted to ask her to roll up the window. My ears popped relentlessly. Instead, I asked a more pressing question that had yet to arise.
"I never caught your name."
"I don't remember throwing it," she replied.
"It must be hard being so witty all the time," I jibbed.
She shrugged casually. "Being me isn't so bad," she smiled, her green eyes meeting mine as she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "I tend not to lose sleep over it."
"Sarcastic comments? Seriously, what's your name?" I questioned, curious. She seemed like a pretty cool person. Painfully sardonic remarks aside, she reminded me a little of Gwen. Capable, focused, but Gwen was not quite as… I don't know, cold, maybe? There was an edge to her that unnerved me. Eerily enough, it would just pop up randomly. I could see it in her eyes. Those green eyes would get a little darker; her body posture would shift into something more closed off. I wondered if I was just projecting or perhaps even mistaking it for something else.
Her lips pressed into a thin line, one hand fixated on the steering wheel. "Natalia," she replied eventually, taking me by surprise. I was expecting an empty answer, one filled with tense silence. Instead, she answered me honestly. I hadn't expected that.
Man, I'm off my game, aren't I?
I offered her a hand, a half-smile springing to my lips. "Well, Natalia, it's a pleasure to meet you." Natalia delicately shook it. Furtively, I brushed my pinky along her palm and my thumb along with hers. Then, just as quick as the handshake formed, we mutually retracted back.
Calluses, I mused. Not ones you would find on someone that worked a nine-to-five. Was she rich? If her apartment was anything to go by, not likely. If she was rich, I could see her doing her vigilante antics more often. That would warrant such calluses. But then, my eyebrows knitted together when I recalled something. She did all kinds of acrobatic maneuvers when we fled from the vognols. I thought I was athletic and acrobatic, but she had moves unlike anything I'd seen before.
That required dedication. Years and years of training in gymnastics and parkour. I didn't start gymnastics unless I was sixteen. Gwen convinced me it would be a good hobby after I began to play Soccer, and I liked the idea of being able to flip around like a ninja and get more athletically fit. Plus, when I put on the Omnitrix again, those gymnastics classes saved my life a few times when I was forced to use it.
My instructor told me I was a natural and already had a good deal of upper-body strength and balance. Considering my, at the time, wry appearance, that surprised quite a few people. But when I began strength training for gymnastics, I started filling out a little until Grandpa Max went missing. After that, I fell off my diet and stopped working out (both out of laziness and time constraints). When I became a Plumber, I was given the option to train in a degree of gymnastics again. Only these gymnastics were better than the ones I'd trained in before.
Admittedly, I only accepted the offer because it reminded me of home. Suddenly leaving the planet and boarding a training program light-years away from Earth left me homesick. Sue me, but I was lonely, and doing gymnastics made me think of home. It gave me some peace while also pushing me to get stronger, fitter and presented me with real skills. Hell, when I took the graduation exam, I was top-three in the evasion portion (and number-one in marksmanship. Yep, I was the finest shot out of hundreds of cadets.).
Seeing as how no weapons or interference were allowed for that test, I couldn't use the Omnitrix. But, at that point in the training, I was used to it. Most of the other classes were like that. I was lucky if I got to use the Omnitrix once, maybe twice a week.
While I felt bitter about it back then, I could see now that it was for the better. It forced my capabilities to grow, and I saw that becoming too reliant on the Omnitrix would get me killed one day. When I came to the realization, I acknowledged Azmuth's point. It was a humbling experience that I sorely needed at the time.
"Pleasure? I'm all about pleasure," she said flirtatiously.
I rubbed my neck. "Good to know," I replied awkwardly.
Natalia chortled some, then turned down an avenue. Eventually, we reached our destination. Parking the car, we stopped it at the beginning of the hiking trail. I pulled out a map and slammed the trunk shut. Laying it out flat, Natalia indicated the eastern-most flank of the Sierra de Guadarrama mountain range.
"They're here," she said, doodling a fat red dot with a sharpie on the map.
I smoothed the map out further, eyes squinting. Pulling out Natalia's laptop, I flared up the tracking program. I surveyed the screen, then the map, back to the computer, and finally, the map once again. Nodding, I shut the laptop closed. Natalia rolled the map back up and stuffed it into her traveling pack. I opened the trunk, storing her laptop, before slamming it shut. With my ruined mask, I felt wearing my Plumber suit was senseless. Instead, I wore the plaid shirt, jeans, and boots I had purchased back in Jackson, Wyoming.
Soon, we were both making the trek up the mountain range. Seeing as how both of us were men of few words, we fell into a comfortable silence. Natalia did a three-sixty every ninety seconds to scout her surroundings. It was a good practice. I was trained to do the same thing in scenarios like these. It was vital to have your head on a swivel at all times while in unfamiliar territory. Natalia agreed.
I led ahead, cautiously traversing through the endless, slight incline of the rocky, tree-ridden range. Hand resting on the bark of a thin tree, I lingered. Eyes drifted out long, sweeping the terrain. I almost anticipated an attack of some kind.
There were no boulders to duck behind, nor any ditches to hide in. We were in the open, heading up a mountain. Everyone that owned ranged weapons knew that having the high ground gave a great advantage. Vulkanus had state-of-the-art plasma blasters, and I'd bet still hordes of little slave soldiers. All it took was an ambush at the wrong time to kill us both. We'd be dead before we ever identified where we were being attacked from.
Natalia came up behind me. I almost snapped at her. She hadn't made a single noise. Everyone made noises in a forest. Twigs and dead leaves left distinct noises. Those slight noises were deafening in the dead silence of a forested mountain, and Natalia was noiseless.
"Why'd you stop?" she asked me. "Do you see something?"
"Not so much see it, rather feel it."
Natalia glanced around, then upwards at the hill they were climbing. "Ambush?" My silence answered her. "You're right but staying in a bad spot longer only makes us more vulnerable."
"Unless we move and find ourselves into a worse spot." I steadied my ascent once again, Natalia splitting off a few meters.
If we were ambushed, it was better for us to be as far apart as possible. One burst of rifle fire could kill us both if we were close enough. Plumber Academy drilled proper spacing. Once again, it seemed like Natalia knew this already. I thought I would have to lecture her about these things, but whenever I went to tell her to do something, I'd turn and see she was already at it.
Was she former military? It was very uncommon for human women to find themselves on the front lines. While I didn't know precisely what armies taught their troops, I'm not sure they taught non-combatants proper spacing for patrols. So if she was indeed military, she was infantry of some sort. That I was sure of.
I was right. We found ourselves in an even worse location, twenty or so feet up and forward. There were even fewer trees to speak of. Ben even noted a completely baren slope uphill. Not a lick of cover for ten meters in either direction. That may have been a hundred because you're dead either way if someone opens fire from above. Natalia followed me as I zigzagged throughout the mountain slope, maneuvering tree to tree. It was the only cover beside the odd boulder, or an arbitrary ditch carved out in the side of the mountain. Despite wood not being a great piece of cover, it was the only piece we had.
"What do you do for a living?"
"Why the sudden interest in my life?" Natalia answered with a question. "What's next? Do you want to know if I'm dating anyone?"
"No," I responded, striding over a fallen tree coated in verdant moss. "You're single. You have a twin-sized bed and no male clothes in your apartment. No ring on your finger, or a tan-line over them either."
"Very nice," she drawled. "Do you do palm readings too?"
"If you pay me enough, I'll do anything you want."
She snorted. "You've got jokes now," she said drily.
"Not really. I don't make jokes anymore, I'm afraid. Used to have a friend that did, though." I crossed an aggressive amount of ground in a single step. Natalia followed me with two smaller ones.
"Used to?"
"Yeah," I whispered. "He's dead."
"How did it happen?" Wow, not even a 'sorry.' Somehow, I felt reassurance in her response. Ordinary people would say their condolences because it's expected of them. Empathy and all that. Having compassion for another person is all well and good if it's genuine empathy and not a response conditioned into you by society. Natalia clearly didn't feel bad for something that had nothing to do with her. She was honest about it. I felt my trust for her rise a little.
"Dumbass ran off without back-up. Got himself killed," I replied, words coarse, but my tone soft, apologetic. "They say he died a hero. He lived like a hero but died like a moron. We were sixty seconds behind him. If he was just a more patient, or only we were sixty-seconds faster…" I let out a sigh. "Sorry. I shouldn't unload on you. It's not your business." I meant that in a sincere manner, not a disparaging one.
"I know what it feels like to be angry at the dead." Her soft-spoken words drew me to a halt. I turned around to meet her, and she peered up to meet me. "Sometimes, when the gunfire stops, and you're alone in your room, staring up at the ceiling, that's all you all have left. Me and the ghosts. They're dead, and I have to pick up pieces after they're gone."
She couldn't have put it better. That was exactly how I felt. Then, just as I was about to open my mouth, Natalia pointed to my right.
"Quiet," she whispered. I whirled around, coming into a crouch behind a tree. Natalia found another shoulder resting against the bark. "Over there." I squinted my eyes. I couldn't see what she saw. At my diminished altitude, I had an inferior angle. Not clearly. However, I managed to spy a wooden structure resting on a sizable part of rocky land jutting out from the mountain's flank.
"You think that's him?"
"You tell me," she said laconically. "You're the expert on him."
I was, wasn't I? Very well. Was it in character for him to lay low in a place like this? Biting my lip, I rested my back, mind processing all the information I had collected over the years about Vulkanus.
While someone with grand ambitions, he was comfortable living in less-than-grand dwellings. It was a strike to his self-image, but nothing compared to his innate fear of dying. That was possibly Vulkanus' most driving trait. His fear of death forced him to acquire a greater army. His vanity commanded him to create something magnificent—something worth all the time and effort he's put into his craft beyond just surviving.
But I wasn't dealing with just Vulkanus, now was I?
I couldn't forget Khyber, even if I kept Natalia in the dark about him.
Khyber was a special kind of dangerous. If it weren't for my extensive history with Vulkanus, I would be more concerned with Khyber than him. The latter was far more accomplished, not to mention feared throughout the galaxy. Even the various bounty hunter tribes, clans, and formations refused to work with him. Khyber had a penchant for killing his partners. Hence, he worked alone, and why the more respectable clans dismissed the idea of allying themselves with him.
Ultimately, the question winded down to this: "What were the chances Vulkanus shacked up in this little shed?"
Without Khyber? I'd say a high probability. With him, however? I wasn't sure.
Khyber was an odd card. Most of what I knew of him was through reputation, legend, and alleged transcripts of his crimes. Less than stellar accounts, I'll admit, but that's all I had to go on. More often than not, these legends always had some form of truth to them. They just got exacerbated to extreme heights or watered down in some sporadic cases.
I hoped for my sake, and Natalia's that this was not a case of the latter.
I answered Natalia by voyaging up the cliff. It became too steep, I clambered up the side, instead of walking. Hand grasping a protruding stone, I hauled myself up. Before long, I scaled over the mound. Pivoting, I held out my hand. Natalia seized it. I drew her up on my level. We remained outside the overgrown forested structure. It wasn't small, but compared to the mine Vulkanus had dwelled in, it may as well have been regarded as such.
With a resounding breath, we both stood at the gates. I passed her glance, facing a realization that had been nagging me since she decided to help. I couldn't face Vulkanus as I was. Not without any weapons that could impair Vulkanus' armor. Much less his skin. Bullets would just bounce off that durable detrovite flesh. Again, I thanked Natalia for being so generous to knock away my blaster. Engaging him in hand-to-hand combat was out of the question. Vulkanus was far too much for me to handle without the Omnitrix.
I wanted to avoid transforming around her, but I knew that it would all lead to this. While appreciated her help, I didn't trust Natalia. There were too many factors about her that just didn't add up. They trained me to read people, and I was painfully good at it. Natalia, I could hardly get a read on. So for now, I was treating her like an ally. Until she showed me otherwise, I would continue to act like she wanted the same thing.
Yes, I hoped she would give up on this search and go home. Or leave out of fear of getting dragged into something above her comfort zone. But, instead, she helped faultlessly and never griped once. She also provided a place to hide from the vognols, a roof to sleep under, and she also hacked the device to acquire Vulkanus' location much faster than I would have. The last thing I anticipated was her being at my side in Spain, hunting down Vulkanus. Another thing that made me incredibly weary.
As we forced open the gateway, lights zipped on. I led Natalia at my lower flank. I anticipated Vulkanus to be resting on a handmade throne of some kind. Rather, he was resting along the floor, bulky legs crossed beneath him. Once he felt the warmth of the lights grace his skin, he opened his eyes. They were not his usual eyes. Bloodshot, pupils dilated.
"I was wondering how long it was going to take you to find me," he grumbled real low.
"Is he Vulkanus?" Natalia quired softly. I grunted in affirmative while his enemy stood tall. "He's, uh, bigger than I expected," she mumbled as she stared at the absolute hulk of a person. Muscles practically ripping out of his suit, shoulders so wide he'd get stuck in a doorway, and a height that surpassed most basketball players. The spikes on his shoulders were a bit ostentatious, in her opinion.
I looked around for Khyber with no success. Finally, the Omnitrix glowed beneath my left sleeve. "Natalia, there's something I haven't told you about me."
"I don't believe now is not a good time," she said over the sounds of Vulkanus' heavy yet slow rumbling footsteps as he unhurriedly made his way over to them.
"You see, I haven't exactly been honest with you." I turned the dial to the Omnitrix, and the faceplate popped up, exposing the impossibly complex emerald circuitry lining the brilliant invention.
Gun drawn, she eyed him strangely. "What are you doing with your watch?" This was not the time to be fiddling around with something as mundane as a wristwatch—a blinding green flash erupted. Natalia flinched back, hand guarding her eyes against the glaring light. When said light departed, she stared in shock as a massively muscular, twelve-foot-tall, four-armed, red-skinned monster remained beside her, Ben nowhere to be seen.
"What the hell…" she mumbled, taking a careful step back. "Ben?" she was almost afraid to ask.
I grinned at her, a pair of incisors jutting out from his lower lip. The monster, as she saw me, wore a white t-shirt with a black stripe around the neck and a black stripe going down the center, along with matching one-inch trims on each of the four sleeves. I also wore black pants and black finger-less gloves on each hand. The Omnitrix rested on my chest.
I gave her a look that said, 'later.' The redhead nodded, concentrating on the seven-foot-tall menace stomping his heavy feet. Wood burst off beneath his feet while I narrowed my four yellow eyes down at him.
"It ends now, Vulkanus."
Perhaps he was too pissed off from our previous bout, as he offered no sarcastic comeback like usual. Instead, he ran at me, pitching an overhead punch. I dipped, delivering a double uppercut that made him stumble. Vulkanus whipped back around, whacking me with an unexpectedly quick punch, knocking me through his cabin's wall. Single-minded Vulkanus attacked the closest thing to him now.
Natalia rolled out of the way, evading his massive fist. It perforated the wooden floorboards like a hot knife through butter. He tore his fist free and backhanded her. Natalia leaped up, landing atop Vulkanus' elongated arm. He grunted rabidly, reaching for her. Natalia winced as his hand grabbed her midsection. She pulled out her Glocks, firing out a dozen rabid bullets. Vulkanus twitched, veins throbbing in his face as he let out a window-shattering roar. He flung her aside, back colliding against a stairwell. She winced as she cradled her afflicted back.
"Hey!" I yelled, doubling him over with a punch to his stomach. Vulkanus roared again and bashed his head against mine. I stumbled, clutching my face. Vulkanus toppled me over, hysterically beating on me. Yelling, I thrust my hands out aside, moving Vulkanus' arms out. I used one of my four arms and dished out a series of elbows down at Vulkanus' head. Any one of these should have knocked him out, but he just kept attacking.
It was almost like he didn't register at all! Something was wrong here, and I needed to put distance between us. Then, just as I was about to squirm out of his mount, I saw a little prick in his neck. It sizzled a furious red. A puncture wound—that's it!
I shouted, grabbing Vulkanus' heel and tossing him aside. He tore through several pieces of furniture before running back at me.
That's he was attacking like a berserker. Vulkanus, despite what his appearance led many to believe, was not a thoughtless brute. He was smart when he needed to be. It's how he survived in the criminal game for as long as he did while ripping people off. Vulkanus hadn't even used any weapons like he was fond of doing. Every advantage he could get, he would take with a smile. This was not the same Vulkanus' he knew. No, this was a rabid monster incapable of feeling anything but rage.
It wasn't even his fault, either. There was an old drug called HYT-0089. It would cause the person taking it to experience unfathomable amounts of primal rage while also burning the pain receptors in their body. Not only would this drug do that, but it also temporarily doubled, sometimes even tripled, their strength… at the cost of their own life.
That's why I knew this was not Vulkanus' choice. Yet, I didn't have any time to think on it further as I was forced to defend myself from a roided-up detrovite incapable of feeling pain. The barbs on his fists punctured my skin easily after a few hits. Noticing how much damage he was doing, I raised my arms to shield my face as he continued to batter me. The only thing that got him to stop was Natalia peppering him with bullets. I'm surprised he even felt them recoil off his skin.
He turned to screech at her, which allowed me to mottle him with jabs until I tackled him into a wall. Vulkanus banged his fists down on my back. I disregarded the pain, swept his left foot out from underneath him, and tugged him in the opposite direction, shoving him into the floor. Vulkanus, undeterred by the sound of his armor cracking, reached up and grabbed my face, pitching me on my back as well. I expected him to mount me; I was ready for it and pulled my knee back just in time to nail his chin.
I reeled back my two left hands and punched him with every ounce of strength I had. Vulkanus was flung off his feet, and he was sent through another wall. Slowly, the once-sane criminal stood back up, face caved in viciously from the two blows. Then, his face started morphing grotesquely. The signs of him being under the influence of HYT-0089 hit him like a speeding train. It was no longer a possibility now but a forgone conclusion.
Scrambling back to my feet, I grabbed Natalia by her arm and threw her out from whence we came just as an explosion decimated the outbuilding. Buried in the dirt, a round metallic disc called to me. I scraped it up, pocketing it. Natalia tumbled and glanced back at me. I remained on one knee, panting, a line of blood traveling down from my lower lip.
Cautiously, she approached me.
"Are you… alright?" I don't think I had ever heard her hesitant before. I found that I hated how it sounded on her.
"Peachy," I grumbled.
"That watch you were messing with… it controls what form you take?" Natalia inquired.
"It's a lot more complex than that." I sat down, massive shoulders slumping. The heat of the burning building reached me, soothing my aching muscles. "But yeah."
"I'm assuming you can turn back."
I eyed her strangely. "You're not gun-ho vigilante, are you?" For the first time, I vocalized my disbelief with her. She remained standing, her scarlet hair whipping in the sudden harsh wind. Her silence told volumes. "S.H.I.E.L.D.," I mumbled. There—for the briefest of seconds, I saw her pinky twitch. It was such a slight reaction. I wouldn't have caught it if these four eyes of mine had been put on my face for nothing. "I never lost S.H.I.E.L.D., did I?"
At this question, her entire body language changed. Instead of being firm and speculative, somehow, she stood a little taller. Her shoulders were wider, arms by her side, completely at ease.
"No," she replied, tone different than the serious yet sly voice I'd grown used to. I traveled continents with this woman. More than a few things did not add up with her. Her conflicting, convenient skillset that continued to evolve with every passing second filled him with a sense of apprehension. She was secretive. But she had no problem bringing me to her apartment. Now, I doubted that was her apartment. Her skills, however, were incredibly cloak and dagger.
She moved quieter than anyone I've ever seen. Natalia managed to get the drop on me and disarm me before I knew what was what. She was skilled in hacking and competent enough in tracking to follow a trail. And now, with my confirmation that she was S.H.I.E.L.D., she managed to follow me from Wyoming without me ever noticing. I never quite felt safe with her, even if I trusted that she was on my side. There was always a sense that I had with her that prevented me from fully trusting her. Maybe it was my training, or maybe, just maybe, it was how quick I wanted to trust her that prevented me from doing so.
"What now?" I was whispering now. As Four Arms, it sounded much like flint colliding with a stone.
"I don't know," she answered.
"And I don't know if you're being honest," I told her. "You could very well be preparing to kill me."
"No." She shook her head. "I'm not going to kill you. Looking at the size of you, I'm not sure I could." She stared unflinchingly into my yellow eyes.
I tapped the Omnitrix on my chest and returned to my human form. I stood before her, no longer kneeling and no longer a safe distance away. Even now, I towered over her by almost foot.
"What about now?" I asked her. "Want to give it a shot?"
"My orders were to observe you, nothing more." I didn't believe her. Not one bit.
"Your organization held me captive for over a week, without food or water. I was only released thanks to government intervention." God, I felt dirty even saying I was thankful for receiving help from the government. "I may not look it sometimes, but I'm human, and I have rights. I was held without my phone call or a lawyer for seven days. I was never even charged. Forgive me for not believing someone from an organization that would be so willing to violate my rights."
"You weren't held captive for a week." At my look, she continued. "That's what they led you to believe. It was three days. That's all. And I can't speak for S.H.I.E.L.D's actions. I can only speak for my own," she stated calmly, unphased by what was said. It was a good point, but I stood firm. I should have known as well. A week? Without food? That was possible. But a week without water was not. If I had taken a second and slowed down, I would have seen that.
"If S.H.I.E.L.D. wanted you dead, do you think you'd still be alive? If they sent me to kill you, you'd be dead, and before anyone found your body, I would have a thousand miles away."
A long, cold silence ridden pause, I dipped my head. Turning my shoulder on her, I felt that my trust was violated. Even if I didn't completely trust her, I wanted to.
"Why did you help me?" That was the one thing that still didn't make sense. "Why confront me in Colorado?" She could observe me without me even noticing like she was doing before.
"I saw an opportunity to get close," she said, seemingly without a hint of shame. "And I took it. There's only so much I could have learned from you from afar. First, I had to see what sort of person you were."
"And those were your orders?"
A firm nod. Her green eyes remained uncompromising. I nodded several seconds later.
"Is your name even Natalia?"
Once again, her silence told me everything I needed to know. Okay. I should have expected that. She was spying on me. Should she have used her real name when she introduced herself? It would have been an idiotic decision, and absolutely nothing about this woman struck me as unintelligent.
"What now?" I inquired. There were so many emotions running through me that I wasn't sure what to feel. She never got back to me on that question. "If I leave, will you follow me?"
"Yes," she said immediately. No hesitation, no guilt.
I expected that response. At least she's honest this time, a biting voice in my head snarked.
Slowly, I reached for the Omnitrix, and shockingly, she let me. When the dial lifted, she continued to stare me down. Right before I transformed, I saw a sliver of something in those dark green orbs of hers. Remorse. She was letting me leave. I don't know why—she could very well hold me at gunpoint, prevent me from transforming. I was furtive about it, but she saw me nonetheless. Yet, she made no move to stop me.
Troubled, I left in a boom just as the green light faded.
Natalia watched as the clouds split apart when she blinked out the light. A long second of silence, "So that's how he did it," she said, referring to how he randomly vanished when she followed him.
And, of course, he left her up here alone without any way to get down. So now she had to work her way down a mountain, which was much slower than going up.
A grimace worked its way onto her face. She was so not going to enjoy reporting this to her boss.
