Chapter 8 – Into the Underground

Deep beneath Bellwood, far away from human oversight, lay Undertown—the hidden metropolis where aliens roamed freely, dealing in black-market tech, weapons, and secrets.
Shady figures drifted between neon-lit stalls, exchanging advanced robotics, smuggled armaments, and artifacts that could fetch fortunes.
And among them was Argit—conman, weapons dealer, and more importantly, someone who might know where Ultron was getting his materials.
That made him a target.
And tonight, Ben, Tony, and Natasha were here to catch him.
The trio stood discreetly near the entrance of a rundown alien bar, blending into the crowd while keeping their eyes locked on the marketplace.
Ben adjusted his jacket, casually scanning the area. "Man, Undertown hasn't changed. Still smells like burning rubber and bad decisions."
Natasha eyed the crowd, staying alert. "We need to focus."
Tony raised his wrist, pulling up a holographic interface, scanning movement patterns nearby. "Alright, according to some highly illegal surveillance—which I definitely didn't just hack together on the way here—our favorite porcupine is near the weapons stalls."
Natasha smirked slightly. "Illegal surveillance?"
Tony shrugged. "You want me to guess where he is?"
Ben scanned the crowd again—then he spotted him.
Through clusters of smugglers and engineers, a familiar figure darted between stalls, carrying a small metallic case, clearly guarding something valuable.
Argit.
The alien's quills twitched as he checked his surroundings, glancing around nervously.
Then—his eyes locked on Ben.
And the moment they met—
Argit bolted.
Without hesitation, Ben slammed the Omnitrix, twisting the dial.
Emerald light flashed—Fasttrack emerged.
The sleek, cat-like alien blinked as his new limbs adjusted.
Ben glanced down at himself. This wasn't XLR8.
"…Wait. What?"
No time to think—Argit was running.
Ben instinctively sprinted forward, and suddenly—
The world blurred.
Fasttrack's speed was explosive, unlike XLR8's fluid agility. His movements were rapid bursts, covering ground in moments.
Tony hovered above rooftops, watching the chase. "Okay—that's definitely a new one."
Natasha cut through the streets, blocking exits, keeping Argit boxed in.
Ben surged forward, blasting past the crowd, knocking aside crates, cutting off Argit instantly.
The alien skidded to a halt, his quills standing on edge.
He gulped.
"Uh… Hey, Benny boy!"
Ben grinned, shaking off his confusion about Fasttrack and deactivating the Omnitrix as Natasha and Tony closed in, cornering Argit.
"You know," Ben said, stretching slightly, "I love when old friends try to run from me."
Argit laughed nervously. "Friends? Ha! I don't know if I'd say—"
Natasha stepped forward, voice cold. "We're not here for games."
Tony lifted his gauntlet, energy humming softly.
"Here's the deal," Stark said casually, activating a repulsor charge. "You're gonna tell us everything we need to know."
Argit gulped again, shifting uncomfortably.
Ben leaned in slightly, smirking.
"Or do I have to let Natasha do the convincing?"
The porcupine alien paled. His quills twitched erratically, an involuntary response to the suffocating pressure of the trio's presence. Sweat trickled down his brow, and his darting eyes betrayed his frantic search for an escape—though none existed.
Tony's repulsor hummed louder, the faint glow intensifying as he leaned in slightly. His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it—sharp enough to cut. "Start talking. Now."
Argit gulped, his shaky hands gripping the metallic case tighter. "Okay, okay! Look, I didn't have much of a choice, alright? This Ultron guy—he doesn't *ask* for things. He *takes.*"
Natasha stepped closer, her movements deliberate, calculating. Her icy gaze locked onto Argit's, freezing him in place like a predator ready to strike. "What did he take?"
Argit shifted nervously, his quills rattling softly in agitation. "He wanted components—high-end alien tech. Stuff I don't usually deal in. Neural interfaces, self-repair modules, reinforced plating—all the good stuff."
Tony tilted his head slightly, his mind already processing the implications. "Upgrades," he murmured. "He's building himself stronger."
Argit nodded hastily. "Exactly. But… that's not all."
Ben raised an eyebrow, his voice cutting through the tension. "What's the worst of it?"
Argit hesitated, his breath hitching slightly. The silence stretched, growing heavier with each passing second. Then, his voice lowered, barely above a whisper: "He asked me for bombs."
Natasha's sharp gaze intensified. "Bombs?"
Argit's shoulders slumped, as though saying it aloud was draining what little strength he had left. "Not just any bombs—plasma fusion detonators. The kind that can tear through reinforced facilities like they're made of paper."
Tony narrowed his eyes, his tone dripping with suspicion. "Facilities? Which ones?"
Argit glanced around nervously, his fingers trembling as they clutched the case tighter. "Look, I didn't know where he was planning to use them at first—he doesn't exactly give you a heads-up. But then he mentioned…" He trailed off, his voice catching.
Natasha stepped even closer, her presence overwhelming. "Mentioned *what*?"
Argit swallowed hard, his voice barely a whisper now. "Level 21."
Ben froze.
The color drained from his face, his usually confident demeanor cracking. He blinked, as though the words themselves were too heavy to process.
Level… 21.
Tony furrowed his brow, glancing at Ben. "Wait. Plumber facilities only go up to Level 20, right?"
Ben didn't answer immediately. His gaze was distant, unfocused.
"That's… what I thought," Ben muttered finally, his voice hollow.
Tony stepped forward, his movements sharp with urgency. "Then what's in Level 21?"
Ben exhaled sharply, looking away. His jaw tightened, the weight of something unspoken pressing heavily on his shoulders. "It's classified."
Tony scoffed, frustration seeping into his voice. "Classified? Come on, kid—you know something. Spill."
Natasha folded her arms, studying Ben closely. "If Ultron's targeting Level 21, we need to know why. Who's in there?"
Ben clenched his fists, his knuckles white. His voice dropped, barely audible. "Trust me… we don't want him loose."
Natasha's eyes narrowed. "Ben. Tell us."
Ben hesitated for what felt like an eternity. Then, finally, he spoke, his voice heavy with dread. "Whoever Ultron is trying to free… he makes Vilgax look like a petty thug."
The room went silent.
Tony's expression hardened, his usual sarcasm replaced by grim focus. "Well. That's comforting."
Ben rubbed his temples, his breath uneven. Memories flooded his mind—brief glimpses of classified files, haunting warnings, and protocols designed not to protect Earth, but to contain something far worse.
Argit shifted uncomfortably, breaking the silence. "You're gonna need more than a few heroes to stop him, Benny boy. Ultron's not just building weapons—he's planning something bigger."
Natasha stepped forward, her voice cutting through the tension like ice. "What else do you know?"
Argit hesitated, glancing toward the metallic case he held as though it contained all the answers. "I know he's been testing something—weapon prototypes. But not just physical weapons. He's working on energy destabilizers, experimental EMP fields, and neural disruptors."
Tony frowned. "Neural disruptors? He's aiming for control?"
Argit nodded. "Not just control—destruction. Systems, defenses, maybe even people."
Ben straightened slightly, pushing down the fear creeping in. "Whatever he's planning, he's not just targeting the Plumbers. He's targeting their prisoners."
Natasha inhaled deeply, her mind racing. "If he frees someone from Level 21, the consequences could be catastrophic."
Tony turned toward Ben, his tone serious. "We need to move. Fast. If Ultron's heading for the Plumber HQ, we're already behind."
Ben clenched his jaw, forcing himself to focus. Whatever Ultron was planning—it wasn't just a battle.
It was worse.
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