—Atom Bomb Baby—
A flying cab soared through the skies of Bellwood's Uppertown, merging with countless other aerial vehicles in the bustling traffic. It was a busy, sunny day in the shining city of tomorrow.
In the distance, nestled within the highly advanced metropolitan district, 'Bar Oppah's' neon sign flickered, a crown jewel of the new era. The bar stood out like a sore thumb among the towering mega-skyscrapers that dwarfed it.
Bellwood Uppertown – Bar Oppah – Overseer's Office
Inside the office, Argit sat in his luxurious chair, facing the wide window, lost in thought—a rare sight. A thinking Argit meant serious business. Slowly, he spun his chair around to face Ben Tennyson, seated at the left side of the desk.
Argit opened his mouth as if to speak, paused, then tapped his desk, clearly weighing his words.
Argit: "Okay, okay… Tetramands, Incurseans—that's what's trending. Like Ma Vreedle used to say: wherever there's war, there's money. Now, I know you're a goodie two-shoes, and this job's rough around the edges for someone like you, but hear me out..."
He pressed a button on the console embedded in his desk, and a holographic illustration flickered to life.
Argit: "This is Aldust-9, a moon orbiting a gas giant in one of the systems the Incurseans just swiped from the Tetramands. And guess what? They're sitting on a stash."
Ben studied the floating hologram.
Argit: "Ships, weapons… big weapons. We're talking planet conquerors. But that's not why I'm roping you in." His gaze drifted briefly toward the corner.
Rojo approached, a physical folder in hand. Without a word, she scattered its contents across the desk.
Rojo: "The Incurseans have something big in their arsenal—bigger than nuclear. Word got out because of an energy reading off Aldust-9. Something's producing more energy than the system's own star. Take a wild guess where it's stashed."
She threw another image on the desk—a detailed map of the Incursean base.
Rojo: "Right in the middle of their armory."
Argit picked up one of the images and held it up for Ben to see. "Do you really want the Incurseans to have whatever this is up their sleeve?"
The image showed the energy readings in bright red.
Ben narrowed his eyes, skeptical.
Ben: "And you think it'll be better off in your hands?" His eyebrow raised in question.
Rojo: "Not ours. We're selling it to the Union."
Argit: "Look, we both know the Plumbers will dismantle whatever this thing is, make sure no one uses it. You get money, lives saved, weapon neutralized."
Ben sat back, thinking it through. "I'm not even sure I trust the Plumbers with something like that anymore."
Argit tossed the image back onto the desk, rolling his eyes. "Hey, pick the lesser evil here, hero. Do the math: big money, big game, big saves. How many people do you think the Incurseans will hurt with that kind of firepower?"
Argit needed Ben for this job. There was only one other person who could pull it off, but even they couldn't do it alone.
Ben shifted his posture, his hand reaching out to tap the chair next to him.
Ben: "What do you think?"
The chair moved slightly, revealing a small, light-blue alien in beige gunslinger's attire, shades perched on his beak.
Rad 'Profit-Danger-Trouble' Dudesman—smuggler, mercenary, and gun-nut extraordinaire—subtly tilted his head, adjusting his dark shades.
Dudesman: "You had me signed on at 'big money'..."
—TITLE CARD—
Incursean Space – Lovely Duck Interior
Dudesman was busy calibrating the ship's nav-computer, locking onto the coordinates for Aldust-9. Across from him, Ben adjusted the interface on his Omnitrix gauntlet. The cockpit was quiet, each legend familiar enough with the other to not need constant chatter.
Their relationship was built on a foundation of mutual respect, though it hadn't come easy. Dudesman's greed and reckless nature had always rubbed Ben the wrong way, while Ben's past immaturity and naivety had irked Dudesman. But time has a way of smoothing rough edges, and that long road had brought them together once more.
Ben, bored, spun slowly in his chair, a remnant of the boy who still lingered inside the seasoned hero.
Dudesman: "Stop."
Ben's eyes widened, and he immediately stopped, but after a few seconds, he began shifting again—very slowly.
Dudesman sighed but said nothing.
Ben: "So, Rad, what's new with you?"
Dudesman: "Nothing."
Ben: "Really? No cool stories? No crazy adventures to brag about?"
Dudesman: "No."
A few more seconds of silence filled the cockpit.
Ben: "Never been much of a talker, huh?"
Dudesman: "No."
Ben's expression went blank. Then he sighed.
Ben: "This is, what, our sixth or seventh mission together? Unless you count that trip to Transyl."
Dudesman: "I wouldn't."
Ben raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
Dudesman: "You were disrespectful."
Ben: "That was years ago!"
Dudesman remained silent.
Ben: "Alright, fine. You don't have to like me, but at least show some depth, man. You know all there is to know about me, and yet I barely know anything about you... other than your love for money and blowing things up." He turned his chair to face the stars beyond the glass.
Dudesman stayed quiet, continuing his work on the nav-computer. Ben turned back slightly, half-expecting another silence. But to his surprise, Dudesman moved his chair closer and pulled out a small, worn photo.
The picture showed Dudesman's family—his wife and two small ducklings, all smiling warmly.
Dudesman: "This is my family. I don't just blow things up for money… I do it for them. Most of my earnings go to their future. That is what I blow things up for, what I fight for. How is that for depth?"
Ben blinked, caught off guard.
Ben: "Dudesman, I didn't mean to—"
Dudesman cut him off. "No need for apologies." He leaned back, staring at the photo for a brief moment before tucking it away.
Dudesman: "I haven't seen my family in a long time."
Ben's attention shifted, listening intently now.
Dudesman: "My life is too dangerous for them. I send most of my credits… anonymously. My other half probably knows it is me by now. But as long as I am far away, they'll have a good life. Life can always be an adventure, so long as it is lived with purpose."
Ben's posture softened, understanding the weight of his words.
Ben: "I think you just said more to me than you have in all the years we've known each other."
Dudesman gave a rare grin.
Ben: "Do you miss them?"
Dudesman paused, considering.
Dudesman: "No." He paused again, then added quietly, "They're always with me… in heart."
Ben smiled, appreciating the sentiment.
A few seconds of comfortable silence passed.
. . .
But then, Dudesman turned serious again. "I wish to ask you a question."
Ben looked at him, confused. "Uh, yeah, shoot."
Dudesman's sharp gaze met his. "What do you fight for, Ben Tennyson?"
Ben froze, his expression thoughtful. He had fought for a lot of reasons over the years—but this time, the question hit differently. He couldn't find an immediate answer. Why was he here? Other than credits?
Several moments of silence passed. Dudesman didn't press further, accepting Ben's silence as an answer.
A Few Jumps Later...
The ship's AI, Pyxi, flickered to life, her holographic projection popping up beside Dudesman. The electronic voice she emitted was rapid, spouting out what would sound like gibberish to most.
Dudesman: "I know." The sapient duck responded calmly, his hands flying over the ship's control panel as he calibrated a set of commands.
Ben: "What did it say?" Ben asked, raising an eyebrow.
Dudesman didn't answer directly. Instead, he pointed ahead. Ben squinted, trying to see what his companion was indicating. His eyes widened once he realized.
An inconceivable number of Incursean warships filled the void. Far too many.
A massive conglomerate of fleets orbited Aldust-9, forming a near-impenetrable lunar blockade around the moon.
Immediately, the Lovely Duck shifted into stealth mode, its cloaking system activating just as they neared the gravitational pull of the red and greyish moon. The ship silently passed through the behemoth flagships, slipping between frigates and larger war vessels.
Ben glanced around, taking in the sheer size of the armada. His voice was calm, but his eyes betrayed worry. "I thought this place was just some basic military armory. I wasn't expecting the entire Incursean fleet to show up." His gaze shifted to the radar, watching the massive spread of ships swarming in orbit. The numbers were staggering.
Dudesman: "It's but a fraction." His voice was cold as he pushed the thrusters forward.
Ben had dealt with the Incurseans plenty of times, but this was different. This was new. A sight like this could make even him wary. He remembered the Incursean invasion of Earth—there had been plenty of ships then, but nothing like this. Even the Tetramands had never deployed such a massive fleet.
Earth, the Blue Marble, never did seem to catch a break from its uninvited visitors—not even before the great transition.
As they continued their stealthy passage through the crowded orbit, the Lovely Duck remained undetected, weaving its way silently through the dead-silent vacuum of space. The eerie tension hung heavy as the ship carefully navigated past hundreds of ships until they finally began their descent into the moon's thin atmosphere.
Aldust-9 - Dead Volcanic Plains - Daytime
As the Lovely Duck descended, turbulence rocked the ship, shaking its systems and forcing their cloaking mechanism offline. Emerging from the humid clouds, the ship glided over the ashy expanse of Aldust-9, a volcanic moon caught in the lull of its inactive season. The land was a haunting mix of charred black, ashen grey, and ribbons of molten red crisscrossing the plains beneath an unnervingly bright, pale sky. It was a world of extremes, where only the most resilient—and often mindless—creatures could endure the scorching ground.
The ship finally landed atop a hill of volcanic ash, nestled in a valley shielded by jagged formations of hardened lava and volcanic residue. As the landing gear touched the ground, a nearby group of insect-like creatures scurried away, disappearing into cracks and crevices to avoid the disturbance.
Lovely Duck - Interior - Cockpit
The cockpit hummed with activity as Pyxi delivered another garbled report, the language incomprehensible to most—but not to Dudesman. The smuggler secured the ship's landing procedures, finishing the checklist without needing to break stride.
Dudesman: "Noted," he muttered, addressing the pink holographic square that represented Pyxi's interface. With a nudge to Ben's shoulder, he added, "We're rolling on your ride. The Incursean base is only a few blocks away. We go in, jam their comms, shoot some frogs, and snatch the 'big boom.' Get paid." He rose from his seat, already heading toward the exit.
Ben: "Alright." Ben stretched, standing up from his seat. "What's the approach for the occasion—loud or quiet?"
Dudesman halted for a moment, half-turning to give Ben a sideways glance. The look itself answered the question, carrying a silent but unmistakable message about the futility of asking.
Dudesman: "I'm never quiet." He gave a subtle smile before continuing on his way.
Incursean Base Gate - Dead Volcanic Plains
The Incursean Base sat on the flat volcanic plains like an alien fortress. A massive dome housed their operations, sectioned off into various zones within a protective shield. The base's swampy interior was a direct contrast to the dry, ash-covered world outside—a terrarium built to sustain the amphibious Incursean forces in the otherwise hostile environment.
Troops patrolled both inside and out, croaking orders as a hover transport passed through the ray-shielded gates. Once through, the gates snapped shut again, sealing the base off from the hostile landscape. Security was tight.
From the watchtower, a guard spotted something unusual on the horizon. Raising a webbed hand, he croaked a warning to the ground troops below. Weapons were drawn as a strange, rugged land vehicle raced toward the base.
It was the Rust-Bucket.
The Incursean soldiers watched warily as the vehicle barreled closer, then slowed to a stop just short of the gate. Confused croaks echoed between them as the passenger window tried to roll down—getting stuck midway—before finally dropping all the way.
Ben, in his NRG form, leaned out, his voice muffled behind his deep accent.
Ben (NRG): "What's up, what's up, what's up! Sorry for the sudden drop-in! We're, uh, lost! Could use some directions."
The Incurseans eyed each other warily. One approached the vehicle, weapon in hand, suspicion written across his slimy face.
Incursean Soldier: "This is a restricted area, now under Incursean occupancy. You are trespassing. Identify yourselves and state your purpose."
Ben chuckled awkwardly. "Da! So sorry! Me and my son—we've been camping here for a month, celebrating my retirement!" He forced a laugh.
The Incursean soldier didn't laugh. Instead, his eyes flicked toward the driver's seat, where Dudesman was busy fiddling with a holo-computer. He paused, looked at the soldier, and went right back to his task.
Incursean Soldier (skeptical): "That… is your son?"
Ben (serious): "He's adopted."
While Ben kept the soldiers distracted, Dudesman worked on the jammer, subtly connecting the Rust-Bucket's antenna to the base's communications network. The signal was almost locked in.
Ben leaned out again. "Sixty-seven years, sixty-seven years I spent making water bottles on the moons of Anur Transyl. It was time I enjoyed nature, you know?"
The Incursean soldier blinked. "What is… a bottle?"
Ben froze. "What- what do you mean, 'What is a bottle'? That's, like, the fourth time I've heard that."
Before the Incursean could answer, another soldier stomped over, more aggressive than the first.
Incursean Guard 2: "Enough! Show us your identification, or we'll be forced to escort you off-world." He brandished his weapon, inching closer to the Rust-Bucket.
Ben raised his hands. "Alright, alright, jeez. Let me just grab my ID." He turned toward the dashboard, pretending to rummage through it. "Mind giving me directions while I look?"
The progress bar on Dudesman's screen was nearing completion. Just a few more seconds.
The Incursean soldier leaned closer, impatient. "Hurry up. Where are you even planning on going anyway?"
Ben (deadpan): "Wyoming."
The soldiers exchanged confused looks, but before they could react, Dudesman's screen flashed complete. With a smirk, he slammed his hand on the holo-computer.
A pulse shot through the airwaves as the Rust-Bucket's jammer fired up. The Incursean base's communications were knocked offline, cutting them off from the armada.
A piercing shriek from the jammer tore through the air, assaulting the Incursean troops' helmet intercoms. Soldiers stumbled, clutching their heads in agony as the sound reverberated through their skulls.
Near the Rust-Bucket, two guards stood momentarily paralyzed by the sonic assault. NRG seized the opportunity, his metallic fist connecting with one guard's jaw in a resounding clang. The Incursean crumpled instantly. In a fluid motion, NRG grasped the second guard, slamming him against the Rust-Bucket's door. The impact echoed through the air as the guard slumped unconscious.
The infiltration erupted into a full-scale assault.
NRG and Rad Dudesman burst from the Rust-Bucket, catching the Incursean defenses off-guard. Rad's blaster rifle materialized in his hands, spitting deadly energy bolts with pinpoint accuracy.
Blaster fire rained down on NRG, ricocheting off his armored exterior in a shower of sparks. Unfazed, he retaliated, his faceplate blazing as he unleashed searing beams of radiation. The gate's defenses melted under the onslaught, metal twisting and warping in the intense heat.
The base's alarm finally wailed to life, spurring the duo into action. Rad's arsenal came alive, each weapon more impressive than the last. Energy bolts, plasma bursts, and concussive blasts decimated the remaining Incursean troops, clearing a path for Ben's next move.
—HUMUNGOUSAUR—
Ben's form swelled, muscles rippling as he grew to his maximum Vaxasaurian size. With a thunderous roar, he charged the base's ray-shielded barrier. Rad sprinted after him, nimbly scaling Humungousaur's tail and clambering onto his back.
Inside the swampy domed base, Incursean troops scrambled to defend against the impending breach. Their preparations proved futile as Humungousaur smashed through the main gate, the barrier shattering like glass.
Humungousaur's bellow shook the earth as he tore through the Incursean defenses. Rad, perched on the behemoth's elbow, rained laser fire on the troops below. The duck-like alien brought new meaning to "duck and cover" as he systematically picked off targets.
Three Incursean heavy artillery vehicles rumbled forward, their cannons trained on the intruders. Humungousaur's eyes narrowed. In a display of raw strength, he seized one tank by its cannon, hefting the massive vehicle like a club. Metal shrieked as he brought it crashing down on its companions, Incursean soldiers leaping clear moments before impact.
A hail of blaster fire forced Rad to retreat down Humungousaur's back. Ben absorbed the brunt of the attack, his anger building with each impact. With a roar of frustration, he hurled the Incursean hover-tank at the Armory's exterior wall. The structure crumbled, revealing a gaping breach.
Shielding Rad with one massive hand, Humungousaur allowed his companion to take cover behind the smoking wreckage of a tank. Even in the midst of the firefight, Rad's aim remained true, each shot finding its mark.
—CHROMASTONE—
In a flash of green, Ben transformed into Chromastone. The crystalline alien stood resolute as wave after wave of energy weapons fire crashed against him. His body glowed brighter with each absorbed blast, until he was nothing but a silhouette of pure, barely contained power.
The Incurseans' battle cries turned to cries of alarm as they realized their mistake. Before they could cease fire or reload, Chromastone took to the air. For a moment, time seemed to stand still.
Then, he unleashed hell.
A dazzling array of razor-sharp energy beams erupted from Chromastone's body. Each blast found its mark with deadly precision, cutting through Incursean defenses like a hot knife through butter. Hover-tanks exploded in brilliant fireballs, turrets disintegrated, and artillery positions were reduced to smoldering craters.
Those Incurseans lucky enough to survive fled in terror, their retreat illuminated by the rainbow of destruction raining down upon them.
As the last echoes of the battle faded, Chromastone descended, his crystalline body dimming as he panted with exertion.
Rad emerged from cover, sprinting towards the breach in the Armory wall.
—AMPFIBIAN—
With a final flash of green, Ben transformed into Ampfibian. The electrified alien's tentacles crackled with energy as he glided after Rad, both warriors disappearing into the depths of the Armory, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.
Incursean Base - Armory - Interior
The firefight intensified as Ben and Dudesman pushed deeper into the facility. Narrow, metallic hallways echoed with the cacophony of blaster fire. Dudesman found himself pinned down, the tight quarters limiting his usual mobile fighting style.
Waves of Incurseans poured into the corridor, their warty figures filling the space from wall to wall. Dudesman pressed his back against a jutting piece of machinery, laser bolts sizzling past his head.
Ben, as Ampfibian, hovered above the fray. His bioluminescent body pulsed with building energy. "One shocking turn of events coming right up!" he called back, his voice distorted by his alien form.
With fluid grace, Ampfibian phased through the ceiling, reappearing behind the Incursean line. His tentacles brushed against the metal floor, and suddenly the air crackled with electricity. A wave of blue-white energy surged forward, arcing from one Incursean to the next. The frog-like aliens convulsed, their muscles seizing as non-lethal currents coursed through them. Within seconds, the hallway was silent, filled only with the soft groans of unconscious Incurseans.
Dudesman emerged from his cover, his expressionless face scanning the scene of fallen foes. He turned to Ben, who had ceased his levitation and now stood among the incapacitated Incurseans.
"I was having fun," Dudesman stated flatly, though there was a hint of admiration in his tone.
Ben's gelatinous form rippled in what might have been a shrug. "From my end, it looked like you were in danger."
"Danger is my middle name," Dudesman retorted, his voice as dry as ever.
"Yeah, yeah, I know," Ben quipped, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "But so is 'Profit', so let's get that bag and get out of here before that Armada steals your other middle name. I got things to do, so stop quacking and let's Duck Duck Go, bud." He turned and began to glide down the corridor.
Dudesman lowered his weapon, his inscrutable gaze fixed on Ben's retreating form. The silence stretched between them, broken only by the soft hum of the facility's air conditioning.
Ben paused, noticing Dudesman hadn't moved. "What's up?" he asked, curiosity and concern mingling in his alien voice.
"You have changed," Dudesman stated, his monotone voice carrying an unexpected weight.
The words hung in the air, filling the space between them. Ben's bioluminescent body flickered, betraying his surprise.
"Yeah?" Ben responded, uncertainty clear in his voice.
Dudesman closed the distance between them, his steps measured and deliberate. He raised a fist, gently bumping it against Ampfibian's jellyfish-like body.
"About time," Dudesman said, a hint of pride coloring his usually emotionless voice. A smile, hidden beneath his ever-present shades, tugged at the corners of his bill as he strode past Ben and down the hallway.
Ben remained rooted in place, a mixture of confusion and joy radiating through his alien form. This might have been the first time the tough-as-nails smuggler had ever complimented him. As he watched Dudesman's retreating form, a new question surfaced in Ben's mind: Was he changing for the better, or for worse?
With a mental shake, Ben pushed the thought aside. There would be time for introspection later. Right now, they had a mission to complete. He glided after Dudesman, the facility's shadows swallowing them both as they pressed deeper into enemy territory.
Incursean Base - Armory - Weapons Depot
The remaining Incursean troops gathered at the entrance of the weapons depot, forming the final line of defense. These soldiers were tasked with protecting their empire's most secret weapon, and they could hear the echoes of battle just beyond the door—blaster fire, shouts, and the sounds of struggle. But then, all at once, it stopped.
The sudden silence left the Incurseans bewildered. They lowered their weapons, exchanging confused glances.
The door slid open with a hiss of steam. Through the thick fog, two pairs of glowing green eyes emerged from the shadows, cold and unblinking. Then came the figure—a towering alien being whose mere presence was enough to freeze them in place.
—TOEPICK—
Ben had transformed into one of his most terrifying forms: Toepick. His ogre-like body lumbered forward, each step heavier than the last. As he approached, the Incursean guards caught a glimpse of his incomprehensible, fear-inducing face.
The response was immediate—no shots were fired, no words were spoken. Instead, the amphibious soldiers froze in pure terror, their brains unable to process the horror before them. One by one, they collapsed, their bodies shutting down as their minds entered a state of coma.
Ben, now back in human form, calmly walked into the weapons depot.
Rad Dudesman followed but lingered for a moment, casting a glance at Ben's handiwork. Was he simply impressed by Ben's efficiency, or was there something more behind that look? The smuggler's typical swagger seemed slightly off, as if there was a hint of unease at witnessing the extent of Ben's power.
Still, the duo pressed on.
The depot was dimly lit, awash in a cold blue glow. Rows upon rows of alien weapons lined the walls, their metallic forms gleaming under the light.
"Look at all this," Ben muttered, kicking open a nearby crate. Several laser rifles tumbled out, clattering across the floor. "I know these guys are at war, but this? This is overkill"
Rad picked up one of the rifles, inspecting it before casually holstering it to his utility belt. "Guns... lots of guns," he smirked.
As they moved deeper into the depot, they reached a central area. At the heart of the room stood a massive, oval-shaped container, glowing faintly pink with purple strands of energy coursing through it. Surrounding it were energy capacitors, their purpose clear—they were containing something inside. Something powerful.
Rad pulled out an energy signature reader, his eyes narrowing behind his shades as he looked at the readings. "Jackpot."
Ben pointed at the container with his thumb. "That's the bomb?"
"Very big bomb," Rad replied, showing the reader to Ben. "This energy reading... Is impressive."
"If you're surprised—which you never are—then I believe you," Ben muttered. He took a step back, his brow furrowing as he scanned the room. There was no control panel, no mainframe to operate the container. "Doesn't this feel... off to you? This thing isn't guarded the way it should be. It's like... I don't know, everything's just been too easy."
Rad crossed his arms, his expression unchanged. "We make things easy," he said, a hint of arrogance in his voice. Though in truth, the duo was a formidable force—few could stand against them. "The Incurseans are at war. They're probably spread thin. Not enough toads to guard the loads." He stepped toward the container. "Let's crack this thing open before reinforcements show up."
Ben paced, still unsettled. "Yeah, that armada's gotta be on its way by now. But what even is this thing? How are we supposed to take it with us?"
"I've got an idea," Rad said, closing his energy reader. "You've got transformations that can absorb energy, right? Overcharge those capacitors, and we might be able to pop this thing open."
A grin spread across Ben's face. "I know just the guy for that."
—BUZZSHOCK—
Ben transformed into Buzzshock, his Nosedeenian form cackling with electrical energy. Hovering in the air, he zipped over to the capacitors, his small body crackling as he merged with the machinery.
Sparks flew as the capacitors whirred louder, their energy output growing unstable. Rad took a few steps back, his energy reader in hand. "It's working," he murmured.
The container flickered, its glow intensifying as more and more sparks erupted from the overloaded capacitors. Finally, the capacitors gave out with a deafening crack. The resulting explosion threw Buzzshock from the machines, sending him tumbling across the floor.
Ben reverted to his human form, lying flat on his back next to Rad. He groaned as he slowly sat up, brushing dirt off his jacket.
Dudesman's assumption had been correct. With the capacitors overclocked, the containment field was failing. The glass-like cover lifted with a soft hiss, releasing thick clouds of fog.
Rad nudged Ben, nodding toward the now-open container. The pinkish glow inside grew brighter, intensifying as the fog began to clear.
They both cautiously approached the center of the container, swiping away the last wisps of steam. The air was thick with suspense, their hearts pounding in sync. Whatever was inside emitted such an overwhelming aura of energy that it seemed irrational to draw closer—but both Ben and Dudesman were too absorbed in the moment to consider the danger.
And soon, their earlier concerns would be irrelevant.
The pinkish glow grew stronger as they neared, reflecting off Dudesman's shades and illuminating Ben's green eyes. Their expressions mirrored each other, jaws slightly agape as the glow revealed something impossible.
Soft, childlike noises echoed through the chamber. The sound of crystalized wind chimes followed, delicate and magical, yet with no clear source. It was as if the air itself was reacting to the revelation.
"Is that..." Ben broke the silence, his voice a mix of disbelief and awe.
"A baby?" Dudesman finished, his voice just as incredulous.
Before them, nestled in a sleek, black, floating pram, was something no one could have predicted.
A child. But not just any child—an Anodite child.
The infant cooed, its large, luminous eyes locking onto Ben as it giggled and reached out toward him. "Bahfbah," the baby gurgled, an innocent smile spreading across its face.
Dudesman quickly scanned the child with his energy reader. The readings were off the charts, mind-numbing in their complexity. As the smuggler lowered his device, his eyes widened for the first time since Ben had met him. He slowly removed his shades, revealing a rare flicker of astonishment.
"Atom Bomb Baby..." he muttered, shaking his head. The energy signature this infant possessed was beyond anything either of them had ever encountered.
Ben, still reeling from the shock, awkwardly reached out to pick up the child. He held it with the unmistakable uncertainty of someone who had never held a baby before. "What the hell..." he mumbled in disbelief, as the child continued to coo and giggle in his arms, its tiny hands patting his jacket.
A flood of questions raced through Ben's mind. Who had left this child here? How could something so small hold such incredible power? And more urgently—what were they supposed to do with it?
Before he could voice any of these thoughts, the ground beneath them trembled. The walls of the facility shook as a series of deep, reverberating rumbles echoed through the depot. Dust fell from the ceiling, and alarms began to blare.
Ben, wide-eyed, quickly set the baby back into the pram. "Great, just what we needed," he muttered, glancing nervously at the quaking walls.
Dudesman, though characteristically unfazed, looked around, his brow furrowing slightly.
—WILDVINE—
Without hesitation, Ben transformed into Wildvine. His vine-like tendrils extended quickly, wrapping around the pram and Dudesman, securing them both as he bolted toward the exit. His vine limbs stretched effortlessly as they hurried out of the depot, the baby safely concealed within its floating crib.
The tremors intensified behind them, and the sounds of approaching footsteps echoed in the distance—reinforcements.
"Hang on!" Ben shouted, pulling Dudesman and the child along as they sped toward the exit, the depot's massive doors closing fast behind them.
Incursean Base - Exterior - Dead Volcanic Plains
Ben, Rad, and the baby managed to escape the domed base, stepping onto the barren, ash-covered plains. The entire area was eerily silent—no Incurseans in sight. It was as if the base had been abandoned, the troops either retreating to the Armada or vanishing into hiding. The once bustling stronghold had become a ghost town.
Ben let go of the pram and released Rad, who casually adjusted his shades, the calm contrast to the unnerving quiet around them.
Both of them looked up and froze, eyes widening as one of the massive Incursean warships descended from the heavens, spiraling out of control. The burning wreck plunged toward the volcanic surface, crashing hard into the lunar soil. A distant, echoing boom followed by a shockwave surged across the plains, sending dust and ash billowing into the sky.
—BLOXX—
Ben didn't hesitate. In a flash, he slapped the Omnitrix, transforming into the towering organosilicon-based alien, Bloxx. His body instantly morphed and shifted, stretching into a protective dome, encasing Rad, the baby, and the pram beneath his durable blocks. The shockwave hit them like a hurricane, but Bloxx's dense structure absorbed the impact, keeping them safe.
Two more Incursean ships careened from the sky, crashing into the volcanic landscape with deafening force. The ground shuddered beneath them as fiery wreckage exploded in the distance.
Inside the safety of Bloxx's dome, Ben's mind raced. What the heck was happening? Who—or what—was attacking the Incursean fleet with such devastating precision? This wasn't just a skirmish. This was an all-out assault.
As the tremors subsided, Ben shifted back into his human form, cautiously standing alongside Rad. The wreckage of the warships smoldered in the distance, their fiery remains littering the horizon.
Aldust-9 - Orbit - Incursean Blockade
Above the moon, the chaos raged on. The once-formidable Incursean Armada, a blockade of powerful warships, was under siege. Blasts of laser fire erupted in every direction as the fleet unleashed a relentless assault on a single target—a streak of light that moved with impossible speed.
The glowing projectile zipped through the Armada like a hot knife through butter, smashing through the hull of one warship and sending it exploding into debris. Without pausing, the streak of light veered straight into another frigate, reducing it to a cloud of twisted metal in an instant.
Panic spread through the fleet. Captains barked orders, desperate to bring the intruder down, but nothing could hit it. The light moved too fast, weaving through their attacks like a ghost.
And then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the Armada made a decision: retreat.
In a flurry of flashing lights, the remaining warships activated their light-speed engines and vanished, leaving the mysterious streak of light hovering alone in the void.
It paused, hanging in orbit for a heartbeat, before redirecting itself toward the surface of Aldust-9, descending toward the volcanic plains.
Incursean Base - Exterior - Dead Volcanic Plains
The ground still trembled beneath Ben and Dudesman, remnants of the shockwaves reverberating through the ash-covered wasteland. Ben, back in his human form, took in the devastation around them, coughing through the thick, airborne debris. The scene was beyond words; the eerie silence after the storm of destruction was unsettling.
They made their way past the Rust-Bucket, the iconic vehicle now barely recognizable under the layers of volcanic dust. Dudesman pulled out his foldable scanner, pointing it up to the sky, trying to make sense on the lack of activity
Dudesman: "The Incurseans... they're gone." His voice was matter-of-fact but carried an edge of disbelief.
Ben: "What?" The news startled Ben. An armada of this size, just gone? What could possibly have driven them off?
Dudesman: "The entire blockade. I'm not reading any activity up in the atmosphere."
Ben's mind raced through the possibilities. "Tetramands?" he offered, half-joking, half-serious.
Dudesman shrugged, his attention still on the scanner. "Always likely."
Suddenly, a piercing shriek echoed from above, cutting through the stillness of the plains. Something massive was entering the atmosphere. Both of them looked up to see the skies shift with the fiery descent of a glowing orb, streaking toward the ground like a comet.
Dudesman: "Looks like something stole my middle name."
Ben squinted toward the horizon, where the orb came to a stop, hovering only a few feet above the cracked volcanic surface. The energy dissipated, and within seconds, the fiery light revealed a massive, hulking automaton. Its metallic frame clanged as it crashed into the ground, steam hissing from its joints as it straightened up, towering over the barren landscape.
Ben took a step back as the machine released a deafening horn, a warning that echoed across the plains, rattling him to the core. Dudesman, unfazed, merely raised his foldable binoculars to get a better look.
Ben: "Trouble?"
Dudesman: "Big trouble. Techadon Slayer. One and only."
Ben frowned. "Never heard of it."
Dudesman lowered his binoculars, finally giving Ben a serious look. "Exactly. Much like us, pure legend..."
Ben: "I'm guessing it's here for the kid."
Dudesman: "Let's assume."
Ben: "How tough are we talking?"
Dudesman: "Very."
The towering Techadon Slayer scanned the horizon, its heads-up display locking onto its target—the baby Anodite. A moment later, it redirected its scan toward Ben, its sensors focusing on the Omnitrix on his wrist. The mechanical whirring stopped momentarily, followed by a low, grinding voice emanating from the machine.
"Target locked. Opposition: Two. Omni-matrix marked. Objective: Termination."
Without warning, the Slayer began its advance, moving with heavy, deliberate steps that shook the ground beneath it. Each step lifted shards of volcanic rock, sending them scattering like waves against its metallic legs, which remained unscathed.
Ben: "Dudesman, take the kid back to the ship. I'll give tin-man a run for its money."
Dudesman didn't argue. He quickly grabbed the Anodite baby, securing him in the levitating pram before making his way toward the Rust-Bucket.
As the ship began its slow retreat, Ben turned his attention back to the advancing Slayer. It continued its relentless march, each thundering footstep leaving deep impressions in the scorched earth. Ben squared his stance, his posture shifting into a classic, Western-style standoff.
His commlink buzzed to life. It was Rad.
"Tennyson."
Ben tapped the receiver.
Dudesman: "Don't get cocky."
Ben grinned, the familiar rush of adrenaline kicking in. "Wouldn't dream of it."
—XLR8—
In a blue blur, Ben closes the gap. XLR8's rapid-fire strikes pepper the automaton, kinetic waves rippling through its frame. But the 16-foot taydenite-armored goliath shrugs off the assault like raindrops.
The Slayer adapts, its moves quickening. A near-miss grazes XLR8's head before its other arm snatches the hero, slamming him twice into the lunar soil.
—ARMADRILLO—
A flash of green, and Armadrillo tanks the next blow. He grapples the robot, drill-fist pounding its chest. Shockwaves rebound, sending Ben stumbling back, teetering near a molten stream. The Slayer seizes his head, aiming for a lava facial.
—SNAKEPIT—
Ben slithers free, coiling around the mech like a scaly straightjacket. This snake-millipede hybrid lashes out with its thorny, flame-whip tail. Whip, dash, flames—a relentless assault leaving a single dent.
Overconfident, Ben strikes again. The Slayer grabs his tail.
"Uh ohsss," Ben hisses.
Thrusters ignite, and Snakepit becomes a reptilian kite, dragged across the lunar landscape.
—RATH—
A furious roar erupts as Rath seizes the Slayer's leg, clambering atop the rocket-propelled robot.
"Let me tell you something, Techadon Slayer! You ain't slaying no one today, or ever! Rath is slaying you!"
Rath's fists create a symphony of dents as they "rodeo" through the air, crashing through the Incursean base. Barracks, labs, armory, hangar—walls crumble like paper. They smash the generator, demolishing half the base before bursting out the other side.
—LODESTAR—
Magnetic forces yank both combatants earthward. Lodestar strains to rip the Slayer apart, but the robot pivots, unleashing eye-searing lasers that blast Ben away like a bothersome fly.
"You've got to be kidding," Ben groans, kneeling and singed.
—UPGRADE—
Tennyson charges, attempting to merge. For a heartbeat, he succeeds—then a shock sends Upgrade flying, the Slayer resuming its relentless pursuit towards the Rust Bucket in the distance.
Ben lifted himself up, running after it. 'This thing had a countermeasure for everything' he thought to himself.
—GRAVATTACK—
Gravattack warps the terrain, crushing the Slayer into a deepening crater. Lava bubbles up, engulfing the robot. It spasms, recalibrates, and keeps coming. Crawling ever so slightly against the gravitational crush, without any indication of damage.
"No way..." Ben gapes, realizing even gravity itself bows before this unstoppable force.
The hero's mind races. If he can't break it, maybe he can crush it—like a cosmic trash compactor.
—WAYBIG—
The moon's surface quaked as Waybig materialized. From the rearview mirror, Dudesman caught sight of the towering To'kustar, casting an enormous shadow over the lunar landscape.
With no hesitation, Waybig lifted his foot and slammed it down, aiming to obliterate the Slayer. The ground shook violently as his foot made contact, sending up clouds of dust. For a brief second, Ben smirked—until pain shot through his leg.
The Slayer had latched onto Waybig's skin, its spiked arms digging deep. Somehow, the machine had gained leverage, and with sheer force, using it's thrusters, it lifted Waybig's foot, throwing the massive alien off balance. The giant alien crashed to the ground, the impact reverberating across the barren surface.
Inside the Rust-Bucket, Dudesman's eyes widened as Waybig's massive form toppled toward them. He gunned the thrusters, narrowly avoiding being crushed as the To'kustar slammed into the molten soil.
Ben groaned, staring up at the endless black of space. "How…?" he muttered, baffled by the sheer strength of the machine.
The Slayer zipped overhead like a vengeful predator, relentless in its pursuit. Waybig forced himself up, his eyes narrowing in frustration. He fired a beam of energy from his hand, the blast hitting the Slayer squarely. It spiraled through the air, crashing, but it didn't take long for the machine to regain its balance and launch itself back toward him.
Annoyance growing, Ben ripped a massive monolith from the surface and hurled it at the Slayer. The machine dodged with ease, the boulder soaring into the distance and crashing into the moon's craters.
The Slayer retaliated, flying to Ben's direction with a barrage of lasers, each shot hitting Waybig with brutal precision. Ben gritted his teeth as the searing impacts forced him back, but he planted his feet firmly, his resolve hardening.
Waybig swung his colossal arm, trying to swat the machine out of the sky. But the Slayer, agile as ever, zipped past, continuing its assault. It buzzed around Waybig's head, avoiding each strike with infuriating ease.
Frustration turned to desperation as Ben flung himself to the ground, hoping to crush the machine beneath his enormous weight. The moon cracked and shifted from the force of the impact, dust and debris flying everywhere. Yet, the Slayer emerged again, unscathed, and still locked onto its target.
Ben rolled over, his patience wearing thin. He glared at the relentless machine, its unwavering persistence pushing him to his limit. "What does it take!" he growled.
The Slayer's weapons glowed, charging for another strike. Ben, shaking off the pain, struggled to his feet.
Way Big slammed his foot down again, this time with more strength that the previous attempt. But the Slayer moved faster than ever, twisting in mid-air and latching onto his leg once more. With an impossible strength, it yanked hard, and Way Big was then dragged through the ground in humiliating fashion.
Ben lay still for a moment, staring up at the stars, his chest heaving from exhaustion. He could barely comprehend the raw power of the machine that had bested him.
The Slayer then continued to hover toward Dudesman's path.
—BIG CHILL—
"If I can't break you, I'll slow you down," Ben muttered, narrowing his eyes. He flew at the Slayer, phasing through its body and leaving a trail of ice in his wake. The automaton froze solid, encased in a thick sheet of ice.
Ben landed next to the frozen Slayer, tapping the ice as he surveyed his work. It seemed secure, but deep down, he knew it wouldn't last. Without wasting any more time, he took off, heading to catch up with Rad Dudesman.
Dudesman pulled the Rust Bucket into The Lovely Duck's landing zone. He quickly jumped out, securing the stationary wires to haul the vehicle aboard. Ben arrived moments later, his wings folding back into his cloak-like stance as he approached.
"The Slayer?" Dudesman asked, jogging over.
Ben gave a small, confident grin. "Turned it into a popsicle. That should hold it for a bit."
Just as they turned toward the ship, two intense laser beams sliced through The Lovely Duck. The ship exploded into a fiery cloud of debris, flinging Ben, Dudesman, and the Rust Bucket across the landing platform. They crashed into a jagged outcrop of rocks, the Rust Bucket flipping over in the chaos.
Ben scrambled to his feet, rushing to check on the child. The pram was slightly damaged, but the Anodite baby was unharmed, though crying in distress. Ben gently placed a hand on the baby's forehead, trying to calm it down.
Dudesman stood in shock, his eyes fixed on the smoldering wreckage of his ship. His fists clenched as the full weight of the loss sank in.
The ground trembled beneath their feet. Ben and Dudesman turned to see the Techadon Slayer, steaming and shedding chunks of ice as it marched toward them.
"Target locked," it droned, focusing its sensors on the Anodite child.
Ben's eyes narrowed. "Hope you're ready for some co-op action."
Dudesman unsheathed his weapons. "I was hatched ready."
Ben cracked his knuckles. "Let's see what makes this thing crack."
—TEMPEST—
With a roar, Ben transformed into Tempest, a bull-like centaur alien with impenetrable skin, and charged at the Slayer with Dudesman riding on his back. The Slayer braced itself but was too damaged to stop Tempest's charge. Ben's massive horns crashed into the robot, dragging it across the rocky terrain as Dudesman fired relentlessly with his laser rifle.
Dudesman leapt off Tempest's back, continuing his assault from the ground. The Slayer, humming with energy, suddenly stopped the drag, lifting Tempest by his horns and hurling him into a rock formation. It immediately followed up with a devastating laser beam that sent Ben flying.
Now exposed, Dudesman dodged and weaved through the Slayer's barrage of firepower, barely avoiding being vaporized.
Ben returned to the fray, now as Diamondhead. He unleashed a flurry of crystal shards, but the Slayer's armor absorbed the blows. Each transformation Ben tried—Four Arms' brute strength, Shocksquatch's electricity, Arctiguana's ice—all seemed to slow it down but never fully stop it.
Dudesman's shots kept coming, but it was clear they weren't doing much. The Slayer's adaptability was staggering—it had no weaknesses, no breaks in its relentless onslaught.
Ben's transformations continued—Blitzwolfer, Heatblast, Frankenstrike. Nothing worked. Even when they managed to knock its weapons off target, the Slayer recalibrated within moments.
Ben switched to Feedback, drawing in the Slayer's energy blast and hurling it back with amplified force. The resulting impact sent the Slayer smashing through rock walls, temporarily out of sight.
The Anodite child's cries echoed in the aftermath of the fight, but there was no time to rest. Ben and Dudesman followed where the Slayer had landed, only for it to emerge from the rubble, shifting tactics to close-quarters combat.
Ben's mind raced. His arsenal of aliens was proving ineffective, and he missed the days of the Ultimatrix—going ultimate would've given him the edge. But there was one option left. One that could turn the tide of the fight, though risky.
Ben's eyes widened with realization. "Dudesman, get out of here!" he shouted.
Confused but trusting, Dudesman sprinted for cover as Ben prepared for his next move.
—ATOMIX—
Ben transformed into Atomix, one of his most powerful forms—a green and white robotic alien radiating immense energy, like a living nuclear reactor. The Slayer hesitated for a moment, its systems whirring as it analyzed this new, overwhelming threat.
Atomix clenched his fists, nuclear energy crackling through his body. Without wasting a second, he launched forward, delivering a rapid series of powerful blows. The automaton barely had time to react as Ben's relentless strikes drove it backward, tearing through the landscape, mountains crumbling in their wake.
They crashed back into a lava-filled crater, continuing their fierce battle. The Slayer, its systems adapting, began to mimic Atomix's attacks. The two clashed in an intense struggle, the molten environment only adding to the chaos.
Atomix's sheer force finally broke through the Slayer's defenses. He ripped off chunks of its propulsion systems and tore through layers of armor. Gritting his teeth, Ben seized the Slayer by the head. But the machine fought back, landing a hard hit to his midsection, followed by a quick strike that forced him to release his grip.
Ben wasn't about to give in. Regaining his hold, he rocketed into the sky, dragging the Slayer with him. They ascended higher and higher, until the ground below was barely visible. With one final surge of power, Atomix let go, sending the Slayer plummeting back to Earth.
Hovering high above, Atomix began to gather energy, his core glowing brighter as nuclear power surged through him. The skies darkened, clouds swirling as the air around him crackled with energy. Thunder boomed in the distance, the storm brewing in response to the immense power Ben was preparing to unleash.
"Nuclear Winner!" Ben shouted, releasing an enormous blast of energy. The concentrated beam shot down toward the falling Slayer, enveloping it in a radiant explosion.
From a safe distance, Dudesman shielded his eyes from the blinding light, watching as the horizon was consumed by the blast.
As the light faded and rain began to fall, Ben descended to the newly formed crater. At its center lay the heavily damaged Slayer, unmoving. Ben approached cautiously, giving the automaton a nudge with his foot. It remained still, showing no signs of life.
Ben took a deep breath, the tension finally easing from his shoulders. The fight was over. The once-imposing machine was now nothing more than scrap.
With one last glance, Ben lifted off into the sky, leaving the remains of the Slayer behind.
With his feathers now beginning to drench up, making him look like a used sponge, Dudesman sat down beside the floating pram, closing its glass encasing so that the child wouldn't get soaked.
The duck sighed, removing his shades.
For once, he was tired, lowering his head.
There was a moment of peace and quiet, the rain was both soothing and tiresome, putting out the fire that had persisted on the now destroyed ship.
A green flash of propulsion deafened and illuminated Dudesman, as he tilted his head up to see Atomix landing near him.
Ben: "That was one tough nut to quack wasn't it?" He said.
Dudesman let out a deep exhale, but unexpectedly smiled.
After a few much-needed minutes of rest, the trio staggered toward the overturned Rust-Bucket, exhaustion weighing heavily on their steps. Atomix, still catching his breath, approached the vehicle and, with a careful grip, flipped it upright.
As the RV landed with a dull thud, Atomix's gaze caught his reflection in the passenger window. His expression shifted from weary determination to wide-eyed disbelief.
Standing ominously in the distance was the Techadon Slayer, its hulking frame twisted and broken, missing half of its protective armor. Yet, despite its damaged state, it remained standing, a persistent threat.
"No..." Ben whispered, stunned.
He turned, his heart pounding in his chest. Dudesman, ever curious, took a step forward to get a better look, but before anyone could react, the Slayer fired. The shot struck Dudesman with brutal precision, sending him flying backward. His last, pained "quack" echoed as his body underwent total, merciless disintegration.
"No!" Ben's voice cracked with raw emotion, a powerful agonizing shout is let out, as his denial hangs in the air. His friend... gone.
A single feather floated through the rain-soaked air, settling on the lunar surface. The shattered remains of Dudesman's signature shades lay scattered, glinting weakly in the dim light. The child in the pram wailed, sensing the tragedy.
The Slayer moved without hesitation, grabbing Atomix in its vice-like grip. It began to mimic his moves, countering each of his attempts to fight back. Ben barely had time to process what was happening before he was knocked to the ground, pinned under the Slayer's relentless assault.
Every punch, every blow it landed only seemed to make it stronger. No matter what Ben tried, the Slayer adapted, growing faster and more lethal with each second. Its mission was simple: Destroy Ben Tennyson.
The Slayer slammed its massive fists into Atomix's face, leaving a dent that sent sparks flying. It grabbed his leg next, twisting it with a sickening crack. Ben screamed in agony, the pain searing through his body as his leg gave way.
In a final, desperate effort, Atomix raised his hand, but the Slayer was faster, grabbing his arm with unmeasurable pressure, shortly snapping it before he could unleash any energy. The pain was overwhelming.
Ben reverted to his human form in a last-ditch attempt to escape the mechanical grip. His broken leg made every movement excruciating, but he crawled, tears of frustration and pain streaming down his face. He could hear the Slayer's footsteps closing in, metallic and unforgiving.
It grabbed him by the leg again, dragging him back. Ben's vision blurred, the edges of consciousness fraying. He could feel the cold rain on his skin, the distant cries of the child, and the crushing weight of the Slayer's inevitable victory.
He was dying.
The Slayer raised Ben, slamming him down onto a rocky outcrop. The laser cannon on its arm began to charge, its red light glowing ominously in the stormy atmosphere. The heat from the weapon seared Ben's skin, even at a distance.
Was this how it would end? All his victories, his battles against gods and monsters, leading to this moment? Beaten by a mindless machine. There would be no last-minute saves.
But maybe... it was fitting. A hero's end, at the hands of something so far beneath the enemies he'd once bested. If this was the price, he could accept it. Deep down in his mind, even if it cost him his life, he'd rather that, than to bend the rules of the universe for a cheap resolve.
A mortal end, for a mortal man.
He closed his eyes.
. . .
. . .
Was he dead?
Ben felt the heat, the light pressing against his closed eyelids. But no pain. He cracked his eyes open, confused, and what he saw defied reason.
The Slayer was suspended in the air, trapped in some kind of levitational hold, its mechanical body twitching as if trying to resist. A pinkish aura surrounded it, tightening. With each passing second, the mechanical beast began to implode, its indestructible shell buckling under the pressure.
The sound was unbearable, metal screeching and groaning as it folded in on itself.
What was happening?
Ben forced his head to turn, fighting through the pain. There, below the hill, in the floating pram, the Anodite child had risen, arm outstretched. The child's cosmic mana was swirling, holding the Slayer in a powerful grip of energy.
Roots-ethereal, glowing-sprouted from the Slayer's core, consuming it from the inside out. The machine writhed helplessly as its parts were overtaken. With one final, piercing metallic screech, the Slayer disintegrated, or rather, transformed... leaving behind nothing but a gentle explosion of light.
When the light faded, a massive tree stood where the Slayer once loomed. Its white petals drifted through the air, carried on a soft breeze. The storm clouds began to part, allowing rays of sunlight to bathe the scene in warmth.
The Anodite child collapsed, falling into a deep sleep in his pram, drained of energy. Ben, barely clinging to consciousness, watched with hazy eyes, his body too broken to respond.
He reached out a trembling hand toward the child, his mind growing foggier by the second. His vision blurred, the world spinning, but before he slipped away, he found a strange peace.
The valley grew silent, the only sound the soft rustling of the tree's leaves and the petals drifting lazily to the ground.
Amid the debris, left undisturbed on the darkened sands of Aldust-9, lay a single feather.
—END CARD—