Many of his former memories were no longer fully accessible to him. They were still there, occupying his mind as technicolor nonsense. If he thought about it too deeply, the migraine that followed was debilitating. His skull felt like it would split open from the inside.

And he couldn't stand it.

On Bellwood, he was like every other human—barely able to slightly grasp onto that tiny edge of… Everything. All that was. His psyche tried in vain to translate all that he once perceived as a Galvan. In his dreams, he swam through the mental noise and horrific visions that ripped him away from the sleep his undeveloped, prepubescent body constantly craved. Poisoned with symbols he would never again make sense of, his mind tortured him, leaving him with near-permanent discoloration beneath his eyes. The precious memories he shared with Azmuth, back before his nightmares began, now churned between his ears as incomprehensible slop never again to be understood by him.

They no longer spoke the same language.

And Albedo couldn't stand it.

Most humiliatingly, the worst part was watching as Ben Tennyson was allowed to live his life. While Albedo remained locked into his childlike form, the boy—whose likeness was forced upon him—went unpunished.

Ben Tennyson was allowed to be his own person.

Ben Tennyson was allowed to learn from his mistakes.

Ben Tennyson was allowed to change and grow.

Ben Tennyson, who now had graying hair and was impossibly taller than Albedo, held him by the back of his shirt. Dangling there in the man's grip, he wildly swung the only weapons at his disposal: his dainty fists. Frustration overloading his system would not allow him to logically conclude that touching him was an impossibility. Logic no longer existed; there was only his own burning rage filling his soft, pale face with hot blood. His ears pounded with the pressure of his own heartbeat:

Thump. Die

Thump. Die.

Thump. Die.

Ben Tennyson did not deserve to merely die; he deserved to suffer—suffer as miserably as Albedo had been made to suffer. But as earnestly as he attempted to thrash the man, he was held at a distance, only able to sway back-and-forth in the air, carried by his own momentum. In spite of the injustice that had been done to the frosty-haired boy, the universe refused to correct itself.

Ben Tennyson remained: amused, chuckling, and still unpunished.

"I-It's not fair," Albedo spat through his teeth. If he unclenched them, they would release the wrecked sob they were holding back. He was mourning the life that should have been his before Tennyson cursed him with his hellish prison. His violent struggle did well to disguise the way grief made him tremble. Despite his efforts to contain his emotions, they got the better of him, dripping down Albedo's rosy cherub cheeks in a stream of sorry tears.

Except that Ben knew he was not really sorry. He did not find Albedo's statement amusing either. He stopped his laughing and resisted the urge to strike the former Galvan across his deceptively innocent face.

"Not fair?" He questioned. "What part of this is unfair to you, Albedo?"

He had just tried to poison Ben.

It was rare for the Tennyson family to have festivities together anymore. After Ben had become a galactically renowned hero, the Plumbers had taken many of his closest relatives away from Earth and into a form of witness protection. They were held on a new planet undisclosed to the public and under the watch of the Plumbers. For the first time in years, the entire Tennyson family was together again to celebrate Carl Tennyson's sixtieth birthday in one of the Plumbers' headquarters. Even after trying their best to keep the event quiet, they attracted the negative attention of would-be assassins like Albedo anyway.

Unconsumed, much of the tampered food littered the floor on shattered plates and bowls. Albedo had never planned to kill Ben's entire family; they were irrelevant. It was only Ben who needed to perish, but even if his family had died along with him, would it have mattered? They would have been unfortunate but ultimately insignificant casualties. The universe would not miss the absence of a few worthless, mediocre humans. Their only merit was sharing genetic material with Tennyson, and he had accomplished nothing for himself either. Without the Omnitrix—had it not been for Azmuth—he would have died in obscurity along with the rest of his mongrel kind.

"You're very lucky," Ben said softly. Dangerously. He shook him harshly by the back of his shirt, rattling his tiny bones. "You're so lucky nobody here got hurt, or I wouldn't be taking this so lightly. I should kill you."

Albedo stopped struggling, gritting his teeth against the force of his grip, reaching up to grab Ben's wrist in return. He could not make him stop, crying out as he was very nearly given a painful whiplash.

"You want to talk about fairness, Albedo? If I were being fair right now, I would end your life here. You would never do me the same mercy of sparing me. You just want me dead at all costs, even the lives of others—my family and friends—who've done nothing to you. Well, a life for a life, right? That's how it goes. That's more than fair, but you're right. Life isn't fair, so here you live."

"You think you are showing me mercy?!" Albedo shrieked. "This is kindness to you, Tennyson? I've never wanted anything to do with you or your wretched species!"

Unable to regulate the emotions coursing through his small body, Albedo's breathing became unstable. He clawed at the fist that held him in the air, digging deeply into the flesh, scratching at Tennyson's wrist and knuckles.

Without even flinching, Ben threw him face-first against a table, breaking it along with the remaining dishes and glass cups. The shards and splitters dug into Albedo's skin causing him to bleed from the corners of his lips, nose, and forehead.

Sandra and Carl Tennyson could not help their soft gasps; parental instinct flared, and Sandra raised a hand to grab at Ben's shoulder. She could only see a baby—and not just any baby. Albedo wore the woeful expression of her own baby at the age of eleven. He was just a boy, a tiny thing that could not possibly protect himself against the strength of an adult man. Disarmed by the sweetness of his face, Sandra shouted at her real son:

"Ben, that's enough! Don't you think that's too much?!"

Ben ignored Sandra, narrowing his eyes at Albedo. It sickened him that the Galvan had the ability to play upon the heartstrings of his poor mom. She was defending her almost-murderer, and Albedo should have suffered even further for that.

Albedo pushed himself up onto his knees, still crying, trying unsuccessfully to wipe his pathetic face.

"I-If you truly wish to show me any kindness, you would put me out of my misery already. You… You must realize this is torture, Tennyson. Surely you of all people, the Omnitrix wielder, must realize the cruelty that is my existence. Can you not empathize with me? Having your form mangled and reshaped—for me, that torture is magnified tenfold because it is against my will.

"I can no longer think as I used to. I feel sensory stimulation too intensely now. Every waking moment, I am flooded by brightness and noise I cannot shut out from my mind. I have been reduced to a sentient sponge, only able to experience pain and unable to fully comprehend why. Well, I can bear this pain no longer. This life– Your life– This prison has been thrust upon me without my consent!"

Raising his chin, Ben could only sneer down at him, lip curling in disgust.

"Don't give me that, Albedo. You're over a hundred years old. This is embarrassing; you should be embarrassed. You're where you're at because of your own mistakes. Accept responsibility for once. You've been blaming me for the consequences of your own actions ever since I was an actual child."

Unclipping the Null Void Containment Egg from his belt, Ben threw it up in the air and caught it a few times. "You, on the other hand, aren't an actual child, even if you may look like one now. You can say what you want about my "wretched species," but at least we learn from our mistakes. You're telling me that when you were a Galvan, with your advanced intelligence, you never knew how much of a tool you were? You couldn't foresee that it would be a bad idea to turn against Azmuth? I'm betting you knew. Galvans know everything. You weighed the risks; you just decided you didn't care."

Through watery eyes, he looked up at Tennyson's blurry form. "Just kill me!"

"No, you don't even deserve that much," Ben said before imprisoning him within the containment egg.

Initially, the Null Void was developed as a prison for Galvans. Despite their stature, their intelligence made it impossible to contain them within the walls of ordinary prisons. As such, Galvans could only conceive of a doorway to an endless void as a way of holding one of their own. However, the prison dimension had become very useful to other species as it was nearly impossible for any organism to navigate.

But initially, the prison was created by Galvans for Galvans. So, it was only fitting for the Null Void to be Albedo's final destination.

Floating aimlessly to nowhere, he squirmed in zero gravity, fighting for stability he would never be able to find. It should have been harrowing, the way he was pushed along without control over his body, but any fear he felt was quickly being drowned out by long-suffering sorrow. Albedo howled a deep, soul-crushed howl of a man stranded; for he was more than merely stranded in the prison dimension. He had been stranded for a very long time—over a decade now. Whether it was the Null Void or the human flesh encasing his soul, he was accustomed to being a prisoner by now.

His mournful wail echoed into nothing. Nowhere. The Null Void went on forever. He cared not for the other murderous creatures he shared the vast dimension with. They could shred him to pieces, and it would be heavenly euthanasia. He had been stripped of his mind, his body, and now his ability to move. All that was left, all he could do now, the one freedom still granted to him was screaming.

"Are you quite done yet?"

A light blue glow invaded Albedo's senses. He squinted, raising his hands above his face to protect his eyes. Through his small fingers, he tried to make out the appearance of the being in front of him. However, by angrily thrashing, Albedo had pushed himself upside down. Or, perhaps the other creature was upside down. In the Null Void, there was no real North.

Either way, he could not clearly see the figure before him. Instead, he was staring at a pair of old, brown loafers. Even as disoriented and distressed as he was, Albedo managed to feel shame for how undignified he must have appeared. Embarrassed, he kicked his little legs and tried to turn himself upright.

"I-I-I-" His kicking led him nowhere. Instead, the other creature grabbed him by the ankle and spun him like a wheel.

Horrified, Albedo screamed, the rapid motion causing his stomach to somersault. His vision twisted and turned nauseatingly; the stars, meteorites, and abominations that comprised the void became a swirling whirlpool.

Eventually, he lost momentum, coming to a stop so he was no longer staring at the other man's shoes. Clearly, he was gazing up at the familiar form of a man in a long white lab coat with salt-and-pepper hair. He was instantly recognizable. There was no mistaking him.

When an Alternate version of Tennyson—the one who called himself Eon—kidnapped him, he had essentially forcibly conscripted him into an army with the single-minded purpose of destroying this man, the Time Walker.

"A word of advice," the Time Walker said, "you're not the only resident of this dimension. Your shrieking is not very neighborly. Keep that up and you'll be eaten whole."

"Professor Paradox…" His name involuntarily left Albedo's lips. It had not been a conscious decision. It was instinct. He couldn't help it. His primitive, ape-ish amygdala was smart enough to produce a shred of fear and respect.

"Have we met before?" The Professor blinked a few times. "Ah, yes. You. I remember now. You are the Galvan who formerly assisted Azmuth. But not now. No, you're one of Eon's little underlings now, aren't you? One of the members of his army who tried to kill me."

Albedo flushed hotly. "I am no such thing! That moron and I are not associated in any way. He is a psychopathic maniac who held me against my will and forced me... I-I would never. I… I–"

He had never personally been acquainted with Paradox, but Azmuth had mentioned him on occasion. He always spoke highly of this mysterious Time Walker, inspiring curiosity within him. It was a terrible tragedy that the only time they had officially met was when Albedo was forced to try and assassinate him.

It hurt all the worse that the only memory Paradox had of his identity was the one Eon had forced onto him. For the longest time, Albedo's consolation was his remaining set of principles. Even when he was no longer able to recognize himself, he at least knew his own soul. But even that had been robbed from him—stolen by Eon, an aspect of Ben fucking Tennyson.

He could never be free of him.

"I harbor no ill will toward you. I-I've always admired intellect… when I was a Galvan ." Tears stung his eyes, sliding sloppily down his chin. "Why would I willingly try destroying it—destroying you? I would have never done such a thing of my own volition."

"Well, there's no need to cry about it." Paradox did not say as much to comfort him. If anything, he seemed discomforted by his emotional outburst. Albedo was hardly the first to make an attempt on his life, but he was certainly the first to express remorse.

"How is there not?" He choked, raising his fists to hide his face. "I never… I never wanted to be this. I don't even know who I am anymore after all the things I have been made to do by utter fools. I have been made into this lowly cretin, and now, I have completely debased myself."

Paradox saw then that he was not crying out of remorse. He was not shedding tears over an injury he had done to Paradox, a reality that did not offend the Professor. It made more sense. Albedo was mourning his own ego.

"Albedo," The Professor started. "You may not be able to see yourself clearly, but I assure you that I do. You've always been a lowly cretin."

Albedo blinked his crimson eyes, letting forth another wave of messy tears.

"I can see exactly who you are." Paradox's tone was not malicious or unkind. "I can see who you were–"

A ghostly blue mist washed over him, aging him rapidly and painfully. Albedo's mouth opened in a silent, wordless scream as his bones shifted, growing, aging him into a teenager.

"-and every other possibility…"

Rapidly, Albedo's shape warped once more. His bones crunched, shrinking, shrinking, shrinking, until they were miniscule. His skin greyed, his eyes bulged, and his fingers morphed into weblike appendages. To Albedo's amazement, his original body had been restored. He was back in the body of a Galvan.

But in the blink of an eye, his dream was snatched away again, and he was back to resembling a ten-year-old child.

"No!" Albedo cried, roaring in outrage. "No, no, no!"

"In whatever form you took, nothing about you has ever changed. That's rather the problem, isn't it? You lament what you've become, but before you were Eon's captive, you were Azmuth's assistant. In both cases, you've always been under the rule of another. Perhaps that has led you to falsely believe your agency has been stripped of you, but that was never the case. You must recognize that we are the only ones in charge of our own fate."

Albedo laughed hollowly. "What would you know of my position, Time Walker?! You are bound by neither time nor space. Reality has never confined you. How could you possibly understand what it's like to be trapped by circumstances beyond your control?"

Paradox was unmoved. "You are entirely in control. It is time for you to face the truth: who we are is the sum of every decision we've ever made. If you're unhappy with who you've become, only you have the power to change that."

Albedo shut his eyes. He released a shuddery breath. If he played his cards correctly, he could have his body back. Unfortunately, he had nothing to leverage against this eternal being. There was absolutely nothing worthwhile he could give to a man who held mastery over all reality. The knowledge caused him to tremble—knowing he was completely worthless. It was futile. He already knew that Paradox would say no.

"I am unlike you. I cannot simply change on a whim." Albedo wet his lips, trying to think of a convincing argument. "Y-You can. You have the ability to change me back into a Galvan. Permanently. You did so just now without having to lift a finger. I recognize that you are all-powerful. I-I am in awe of you."

"No need for flattery."

"I am only asking for kindness. You've said it yourself. I have faithfully served Azmuth. Eon. I would be most loyal to you, too. I only ask for my body back. "

"Faithful and loyal aren't words I would use to describe your service," Paradox said with amusement. "I have no need for assistants, much less fickle ones such as yourself. Good help is so hard to find…"

"Professor, please. I will do anything— give anything!" Albedo was not above begging at this point.

"I'm sorry, Albedo." But he did not sound very apologetic. "The sort of help you need is one I cannot provide: self-help. If I intervene and solve all of your problems for you, you would not be taking charge of your own life, thus learning nothing."

And just like that, he was gone before Albedo could even blink, and he could not muster disappointment, only quiet acceptance. Of course, someone so ethereal and divine would never lift a hand to help an insignificant creature like himself. Albedo could not find it in his heart to blame him.