The patch didn't like the newcomer when he arrived. Pumpkin Head, he called himself, because he was an individual, not one of the patch. He thought of himself as one alone, not part of a singular together. He couldn't commune with them. He didn't understand the deep, thorough bond they shared.

He was odd, odd in a way that no pumpkin ever was. He made sounds with his mouth. The other pumpkins could if they wanted to, they supposed. They had before. But they didn't really see the point, not when their intertwining roots and the spirit within was so much more efficient. But Pumpkin Head talked. And he chose to talk with non-pumpkins. It was like he was one of the city-dwellers yet a pumpkin at the same time.

But Pumpkin Head wasn't always a pumpkin. Sometimes, he had fur and muscles and skin and actual organs inside him. Most of the time, actually. It was rather unnerving. But he came back and back again, sometimes as a pumpkin and sometimes not, and the patch learned that he really wasn't any different whether he had fur flesh or fruit flesh. He still had that… quality to him.

They loved it, deeply and utterly. It was something they had within themselves but so much more at the same time. They hadn't seen a pumpkin with an inner fire like that in centuries. This pumpkin was special. He was bound for something great. It didn't even matter that he wasn't a pumpkin all of the time.

That didn't change the fact he still wasn't part of the patch. One day, perhaps, but they'd be wary until then. He'd earned some lenience chasing that awful ghost away from their home. They could learn to coexist with this non-pumpkin pumpkin and his wolf companion. It wasn't too different from the mares, they reasoned. Only, the mares were more predictable.

The pair came and left for long stretches of time without warning. They'd bring loud machines. Sometimes they'd fight each other but they'd always be laughing afterward, like they didn't mean it. Such odd beings. At times like those, when the patch didn't have the faintest idea what their new neighbors were up to, they didn't regret the thick boundary that separated them.

One day, the pair brought newcomers into their home.

Like not-Pumpkin Head, they were totally foregin. The pumpkins were old beings. Even if they never left Anur Transyl, as the city-dwellers called it, they knew who was native to their system and who was not. These people were not from a nearby planet. Everything about them screamed that they didn't belong. Not-Pumpkin Head didn't really belong either but he was tied to this world via his native forms and he'd learned to navigate the system as himself with no trouble. He was gentle at heart, they thought, and knew how to listen. These aliens were neither of those things.

The armored one was noisy. The one that could turn to metal didn't watch where he stepped. The magic one… well, had magic. They didn't like that. And they couldn't place why they didn't like the fourth but his crystals damaged Anur Transyl's surface when he put his hands on the ground which just meant more work for the patch. No, they were nothing like Pumpkin Head and his friend.

They would tolerate them. They hadn't done anything wrong, not yet. Well, encroaching on patch land was something wrong in itself but the patch didn't want to wage unnecessary war. They could wait it out. See what happened. It'd worked out with Pumpkin Head, afterall.

They learned to coexist. They kept apart. The patch still didn't feel any warmth toward the newcomers though. If anything, it just made them like Pumpkin Head more. For an outsider, he wasn't a bad one.


Teleportation. What a feat.

Scout thought it was a bit ambitious, personally. Messing with someone's molecules like that? With the Anur System's interference? He never would've even considered it himself but humans, he supposed, were a special kind of crazy and he had to say he liked it. Rook had a bit of the same kind of crazy, always bold and breaking the limits, but at least he was smart. He took risks but he was calculated. He thought carefully, always knowing exactly what he was doing.

The humans did too, he supposed, but he wasn't quite sure.

Kevin was wild but he was brilliant. He knew exactly what he was doing. He saw parts and he knew what to do with them, things Scout would've thought outside the box. He didn't seem like the type but he was creative, scarily so.

Gwen was more reserved, a cool balancing Kevin's heat, but she was ambitious. Just as smart as Kevin but she was clever in a way he wasn't and she had the drive to overcome any problem put in front of her.

And that was just who they were at their core. With their experience, Plumber education, powers, and sheer compatibility, they were a frightening pair. Scout loved it. Once they started working, any second thoughts Scout had about building the teleporter for the base vanished.

He got on with Kevin and Gwen pretty well, thanks to all the time they spent working together, but that didn't mean he didn't miss Ship. Ship was his little buddy. They'd been unseparated for a full five years. Scout and Rook were together but they needed their space sometimes. They slept in separate rooms quite often. They had friends and hobbies outside of each other. But Ship, he was always with him. Not having him around felt like losing his tail.

He was busy building the teleporter and they were making good progress but it was a clear absence. He didn't think he'd miss him so much. And Rook never being around… When Scout said no Juryrigg, he'd assumed Rook would still help. He loved this sort of thing. And he did help, just not as much as Scout- wanted? Needed? He needed his friend. But no, Rook was always running off with Ben.

Scout liked Ben plenty. He was a bit goofy but he also graduated at the top of his class. Where Kevin and Gwen needed someone to balance them out, Ben already had that balance within himself. But he didn't really get why Rook and Ben were hitting it off. Luna Lobo, he didn't even know if hitting it off was what had happened. He knew Rook and Ben weren't just messing around. That didn't mean it was a bit… How to put it? Not annoying. Off putting? He wasn't sure how he felt but he was pretty sure he wasn't a fan.

Rook never told him what he did. Not suspiciously so but a bit secretive. Scout would never admit it to anyone except himself but it was a bit hurtful. He trusted him though. He'd tell him in his own time. Rook would never do anything dangerous. Or, that was what he told himself until he was working late one night and the windows exploded with flames.


This was getting frustrating. Finding something that was lost when he didn't know what it was? Why had he thought it'd be able to do it?

Rook tried just about everything he could think of. He tried transforming into Wildvine again, already knowing Anur Transyl's core hurt his roots too much to stay in the form for long. Same thing for Moot's roots. And Funguy's. The answer clearly wouldn't be found with plants.

Night Mare asked the other horses about it but they couldn't remember. Frankenstrike, Ghostfreak, Snare-Oh, and Blitzwolfer talked to the natives. Rook questioned Dr. Viktor. Ben bounced ideas off him. Things came back dry. He had no idea what to do. And he hated that. It made him feel powerless. That'd never really been a problem before. The problem had always been too much, never too little.

Late in the night, Rook realized he'd never really used the Omnitrix to help anyone. Which was a strange thought. Azmuth intended the Omnitrix to be a diplomacy tool, a way to understand other aliens. And that was what Rook used it for and he loved it. But right now, sitting in front of the castle with Ben, looking out at the patch of stumbling pumpkins, the Anur webs stretching across the night sky above, it felt like he could do more. Like he should do more.

Rook shook his head, trying to shake the thoughts out of his head. His thoughts had traveled down similar paths before: when Vilgax drove him out of his home, when he met Malware, when he lost control of Terrorsaur, when he was forced off Revonnah a second time, when he found Zs'Skayr in the Omnitrix… and now. Why was the Omnitrix on his wrist? What was he supposed to do with it? That was never a good path to spiral down. Rook didn't believe in fate. Those thoughts just made him feel bad about himself.

It wasn't common but it was a familiar feeling and he knew how to recognize it. Not wanting to deal with that right now, Rook rose to his feet and blindly fumbled with his Omnitrix. He wanted to go for a flight. He needed to feel Terrorsaur's darkness and his freedom. The Omnitrix always knew when he wanted that. It always turned him into the right thing.

"Archfiend!"

But not today, it seemed. That was too bad.

Or was it? An idea began forming in his mind, like circuitry linking together. Perhaps the Omnitrix didn't give him what he wanted but what he needed?

Archfiend took a step forward, heavy feet leaving deep prints in the damp mud, and made a beeline for the pumpkins wandering around tonight. They didn't flinch, they were used to him by this point, but Archfiend knew they could feel his intent. Their heads snapped up, curious as to what he was going to do. Archfiend wasn't quite sure himself but there was this feeling of rightness echoing in his soul and he couldn't help but trust it to guide him. He now knew how to make everything better.

He heard Ben yelling behind him but he ignored him, barely registering his voice. Coming to a stop, he took a deep breath, the cool air filling his lungs, and exploded with fire, letting the blaze consume him and the patch around him.


"Rook? Rook! Rook, what the hell are you doing?!"

The patch was in flames. Rippling, powerful, beyond hot flames.

And Archfiend was basking in it.

Ben had to question if Rook had snapped. What other thought could he have at a moment like this? The guy had just set his home, the home of a whole patch of alien pumpkins, on fire. And he was just… standing there. Almost in a glorious way, like he didn't know how much destruction he was causing. There was the fire and there was him. Sort of beautiful, in a sick sort of way.

Ben got up a bit too fast and sort of stumbled but he didn't let that stop him. In a few steps, he was right behind Archfiend. He reached out to grab his shoulder, to snap him back to reality and out of whatever haze he was in, but the alien was too fast. A thick hand slapped down on the Omnitrix and a green flash enveloped him, forcing Ben to flinch back or risk blindness.

"Pumpkin Head!"

"Pumpkin Head?!" Ben screeched in surprise. He tried reaching out again but Pumpkin Head's vines snaked away just as his fingers grazed their rough surface. And without so much of a look over his shoulder, Pumpkin Head took off, ambling forward like the roaring flames weren't even there.

Surprise and anger were quickly replaced with fear and worry. Pumpkin Head was a plant and he was walking into a fire? Rook was going to die! What the hell was going through his mind? Was there even anything in his mind? Was he stuck in some sort of trace Or had he really just lost it?

He thought about running in. He had Proto-tech armor. It was covered by borrowed Ectonurite garb at the moment but that'd just burn away. His armor would protect him long enough to find Pumpkin Head and pull him to safety before he burned too badly. But he didn't know how far he'd gotten and he didn't know how long he could stand the flames until his face melted off or he ran out of air. That was always the question, wasn't it? He wanted to save someone but he didn't know if he would die before he got the chance to.

But Ben wasn't one to let those questions stop him. He always ran headfirst into danger if there was a chance he could help someone. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, for him, Kevin, Gwen, and Scout had other ideas.

"What happened?" Scout barked, taking charge with such authority in his voice that Ben forgot all about running into the fire and jumped to attention.

"Rook and I were just sitting out here when he transformed into Archfiend out of nowhere and set the whole thing on fire!" Ben explained as quickly as he could. "Then he turned into Pumpkin Head and just walked in!"

"Wait, he set a fire then walked into it as a plant?" Kevin questioned but no one seemed to be listening.

Scout looked alarmed but didn't panic. Ben wondered if that was from experience or if he was just trying to keep a cool head for the others' sake. A bit of both? Either way, it made Ben all the more aware of how fresh of an agent he was. Scout wasn't all that much older than him– in terms of Plumber ranks, that is, Ben wasn't sure how Loboans aged– but he had this quality to him that Be, Kevin, and Gwen just lacked. And that quality made Ben inclined to follow him.

"I'm going in," Scout declared, startling Ben out of his stupor.

"Wha- You can't!" Ben protested. "You're not even wearing your Plumber gear. I've got my proto-tech armor."

"And I can absorb something and Gwen's got her magic," Kevin added. He put a hand on Scout's shoulder, brow furrowed with unease. "Sit tight, boss. We've got this."

Scout shook his head. "No, he's my partner. It's my job to-"

Scout was interrupted by a tremble through the earth beneath their feet and a bellow that just seemed to echo through the whole planet. Ben and Gwen were knocked off their feet, quickly steadied by Kevin and Scout, and suddenly a flaming figure was rearing its head out of the fire.

"Pumpkin King!"


He felt big. He was big. Bigger than he normally was, bigger than he'd ever been. Taller than the castle, maybe even taller than the towers if he wished. His body felt malleable under the burning hot power coursing through his vines. It was temporary, he knew, just like his newfound size, but something in the back of his mind was urging him to use that power. Just a little bit. Like flexing a new muscle. He could do it. It would be grand.

But the patch– his patch– was dancing around his feet. He could feel their happiness through their bond. The sight of the fire, the feeling of being ignited once again, filled them with such a pure, unfiltered joy that he couldn't help but grin and rejoice alongside them. That just made them even happier and he didn't have to question it.

Afterall, he wasn't Pumpkin Head anymore, outsider of the patch. He was Pumpkin King, the patch's leader and bearer of fire. Never again would he feel the emptiness that crippled this form these past years.

The Omnitrix beeped, sending Rook back into his Revonnahgander form. He didn't mind. The patch now had control of the fire so there was no risk of burning fur. And the usual pain that resided after detransforming from Pumpkin Head was gone, the echoes of loss and loneliness gone. Pumpkin Head had- He didn't know if he could explain it. He'd found something, something within himself and something within the patch, and he'd become something more because of it. Something that both Rook and the pumpkin loved.

But he was Rook now, not Pumpkin King. He wasn't bound to the fire or the patch anymore. He had friends to worry about, friends who were worried about him.

"Rook!" Scout sounded absolutely enraged and relieved at the same time. He ran over to him, paws kicking up dirt along the way, and nearly slammed into his friend. "What in the world was that?"

Rook couldn't help but grin. "I figured out what was wrong with the pumpkins. Zs'Skayr, he stole their fire. Spiritual fire, like Archfiend. I figured out how to reignite it and Pumpkin Head… Um, bloomed. The patch follows him- me now. They call me the Pumpkin King."

Scout blinked a few times, processing what the Revonnahgander had just told him. "...What?"

Rook laughed, not at all upset by Scout's confusion. How could he explain what he'd just felt? The sorts of things the Omnitrix allowed him to experience? He couldn't and he was okay with that, at least right now. He was too high on the thrill of Pumpkin Head's newfound fire to care. "The patch is now loyal to me. They will watch over the castle when we are gone."

Scout's ears perked up. "You mean…?"

Rook nodded. "We can leave Anur Transyl without abandoning all our work here. We can go to Earth."


Their new king was strange.

They had not had a king in a long time but they knew their old king was not like this. Their memory of him was fragmented. Even with their collective minds, they could only remember bits and pieces. They knew he'd been strong, strong enough to protect the patch. He'd been compassionate but fierce. Most importantly though, he had fire. Powerful fire, a different kind of fire than the kind the villagers carried on their torches.

Fire was beauty. Fire was life. Fire was the patch.

Their new king had all of that too. He was strong and compassionate and fierce and he had fire stronger than anything they'd felt before. But he wasn't their old king. He didn't share their history, their shared pain. He'd arrived an outsider, loitering the field with a Loboan in the day and running with the horses into the late hours of the night. He hadn't been one of them. He wasn't even always a pumpkin.

But he could connect with them. He felt their suffering. And he made it go away. They felt whole again, full of life and beautiful fire. They weren't aching and crumbling when they went to rest. Their communications weren't strained. They didn't wander the night feeling lost and purposeless.

Their new king gave them tasks. He told them to protect their home. They could do that. He often leaned on them for support. They leaned back. Sometimes he asked them questions. They usually didn't understand but he always seemed satisfied with the answer.

It wasn't a big change, having a new king, but it felt like it. The patch was better with him, healthier and happier. Their vines grew thicker and greener. They gained the strength to keep their flames ablaze without relying on their king or each other to reignite them when they dimmed. And, slowly, they became receptive to outsiders.

It started with the horses, then their king's friends. They meant no harm but it was still a big change. Not all the pumpkins liked it but they grew used to it. Many members of the patch befriended members of the local herd. Some took a liking to the metal man, fascinated with his work, and spent many hours assisting with his latest creation. A few took interest in the woman, naturally drawn to her magic. Others liked the short one with armor, fascinated by the strange way he could move his body.

Meeting villagers was harder but their king's Loboan was patient so they tried their hardest. They wouldn't accept just anyone but the patch's suspicion and hostility faded. Perhaps one day the pumpkins would be recognized as citizens of Anur Transyl. Maybe not one day soon but eventually.

Their king couldn't stay forever. He was the patch's king but he wasn't solely the patch's king. They wondered if he was a king of something else but he laughed at the question when they asked. They didn't understand but he didn't know how to explain. They could feel his confusion, unsure how to describe what he meant in words or through the pumpkins' impulses. He didn't know who he was. The patch suggested he be a king. Afterall, that was who he was to them. Why couldn't be a king to himself? He told them he'd think about it. He had other things to focus on. Apparently he wanted to go to some place that wasn't in the Anur System.

The patch didn't really understand why their king wanted to leave. They'd grown used to his presence in the past moon cycles but they respected his decisions. They'd take good care of the castle while he was away and trust he would come to do great things on the world called Earth.


Author's Note: Pumpkin Head has blossomed into Pumpkin King! This change is inspired partially by Swampfire's blossoming and partially just because I like Plantapocalypse. In this chapter, Pumpkin King grew to a great size. Most of the time, Pumpkin King will remain a normal size but he has the ability to grow like Humungousaur to gain more physical size, more fire, and greater control over plants.