Chapter 119: The Little Watch Is Broken Again
It was another bright, crisp morning. The air smelled of damp grass and motor oil.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The rhythmic sound of approaching footsteps crunched against the dirt path, growing steadily louder.
Hearing the noise, Klein did not bother turning his head. He remained sprawled out on a folding sun lounger right beside the Rustbucket, his eyes shut against the morning glare. "How is Dr. Animo?" he asked, his voice lazy and flat.
"Handled. Dr. Animo is gone for good."
Ben strolled into view, crossing his arms over his chest with a wildly confident grin plastered across his face. He looked entirely too pleased with himself.
Then, as if a switch had been flipped, that triumphant smirk vanished. A rare look of solemnity washed over the boy's features. "Oh, right. Cousin, the watch seems to be acting up again."
That finally piqued Klein's interest. He opened one eye, let out a quiet sigh, and pushed himself up from the comfortable lounger. "Let me see."
Ben immediately thrust his left arm out.
Klein grabbed Ben's wrist, twisting the face of the Omnitrix toward the sunlight to get a better look. The dial was still its signature glowing green, but something was definitely off. The outer edges of the faceplate, usually a sleek black and green, were now pulsing with an angry, warning orange-yellow hue.
"Cousin, is this normal?" Ben asked, his voice dropping an octave as he threw a cautious glance at the older boy.
Klein's expression shifted into something distinctly strange. A beat of silence passed. "Uh... how should I put this? Yes, technically. This is also one of the Omnitrix's standard operational procedures."
Ben let out a massive, exaggerated exhale, his shoulders slumping in relief. "Oh, man. It's good that it's normal. I thought I broke it again. What kind of procedure is it?"
"Self-destruct procedure."
Klein delivered the news with an entirely expressionless face, stating it with the same casual indifference as commenting on the weather.
Ben stared at him. For a solid three seconds, his face was a blank mask of sheer bewilderment. Then, as the words finally processed in his brain, his features contorted into a mask of absolute, unadulterated panic.
"Self-destruct procedure?!"
Meanwhile, in the cold, unforgiving vacuum of outer space.
"Lord Vilgax! This is bad!"
Inside the dimly lit command center of the Chimerian Hammer, Vilgax's chief advisor was currently hunched over a secondary console. He had been secretly watching an intercepted Earth broadcast of a dog chasing its own tail, a surprisingly entertaining piece of primitive media. But right at the climax of the video, a blaring red alert overrode the screen. A highly specific, encrypted energy signature.
The Omnitrix.
Initially, the advisor scowled at the interruption. He had been invested in the canine's struggle. But the moment his brain registered the specific frequency of the signal, all thoughts of Earth animals vanished. The Omnitrix was Lord Vilgax's ultimate prize. Ignoring this meant a slow, agonizing death.
Swallowing hard, the advisor opened the signal data.
His eyes bulged out of his skull. His jaw dropped so low it looked like it might unhinge entirely, opening wide enough to swallow a basketball whole. He sat frozen in sheer terror for a long moment before his vocal cords finally started working again, screaming for his master.
"What is wrong with you now?!"
Heavy, metallic footsteps echoed through the corridor. Vilgax stomped into the command room, his massive frame radiating pure hostility. He had just been in the middle of a glorious daydream, visualizing the magnificent, bloody sight of the entire Milky Way Galaxy kneeling before him once he ripped the Omnitrix from that wretched Earth child.
Having his grand fantasy shattered by his subordinate's screeching put him in a foul mood. Vilgax glared down at the trembling alien, deciding right then and there that if the advisor could not explain himself immediately, he was going to tear him limb from limb.
"You..." Vilgax growled, flexing his clawed hands.
"Lord Vilgax, the Omnitrix has activated its self-destruct procedure!"
The advisor did not even wait for his master to finish the threat, blurting out the catastrophic news in a high-pitched panic.
Vilgax froze. "What the hell? What did you just say?!"
The galactic conqueror stared at the screen, acting as if he simply could not believe his own ears, despite his species lacking external auditory organs.
"I haven't even tried to snatch the Omnitrix recently!" Vilgax roared, his massive fists slamming down onto the nearest console, denting the reinforced metal. He racked his brain, trying to figure out who in the galaxy was formidable enough to force Ben Tennyson into a suicidal self-destruct tactic.
Then, a moment of clarity pierced his rage. "No, wait. That is not right. It shouldn't be that bad. If even that brat cannot win, then the Omnitrix blowing itself to pieces is utterly useless to me!"
He could not figure out the logic behind it. His glowing red eyes narrowed. Forget it. He was not going to waste time analyzing the foolish decisions of a human child.
"Pass down my orders!" Vilgax bellowed, his voice echoing through the ship's intercom. "Set a course for Earth! I am going to save the Omnitrix!"
Back on Earth, the atmosphere inside the Rustbucket was thick with tension.
Ben sat rigidly on the worn fabric of the dining booth sofa. His left arm was extended flat across the table, the orange-yellow glow of the Omnitrix casting eerie shadows against the walls.
Standing right next to the glowing device was Klein, currently transformed into the diminutive, frog-like Galvan, Grey Matter. He was entirely focused, his tiny, hyper-intelligent fingers rapidly tinkering with the edges of the watch's faceplate.
Grandpa Max and Gwen sat on the opposite sofa, their eyes glued to the scene. Neither dared to speak too loudly. They already knew that the watch was counting down to a catastrophic explosion.
Grey Matter adjusted a microscopic dial on the side of the watch. The Omnitrix beeped sharply, its colors flashing in a rapid, chaotic sequence.
Suddenly, a holographic projection flared to life, and an old, raspy voice echoed through the RV. It was a voice entirely unfamiliar to Grey Matter, Ben, and Gwen.
"Don't touch my Omnitrix with your clumsy, swollen fingers! And do not even attempt to comprehend the masterpiece of the smartest person in the entire Milky Way Galaxy with your primitive, foolish brain!"
It was a pre-recorded firewall message, triggered the moment Grey Matter attempted to crack all the core security permissions of the little watch.
Hearing the sheer arrogance dripping from the recording, Grey Matter paused his work. A highly amused, entirely confident smirk crossed his tiny green face. "I have to say, Azmuth is quite the narcissist."
Without missing a beat, Grey Matter hopped off the table. He scurried over to a nearby toolbox, dragging out a diagnostic instrument roughly the size of an adult human's palm. He hauled it back onto the table, his tiny hands moving in a blur as he stripped a few wires and spliced together some modified data cables, plugging them directly into the Omnitrix's exposed ports.
"Let me see... hmm... and it is ready."
Under Grey Matter's expert, rapid-fire tinkering, the angry orange-yellow hue pulsing from the watch suddenly sputtered. With a final, soft chime, the dial shifted back to its normal, calming neon green.
"It's fixed?" Ben asked, his voice cracking slightly. He stared at the green hourglass symbol, immediately letting out a massive breath he had not realized he was holding. His rigid posture melted into the sofa.
"It seems like it's not just fixed," Gwen pointed out, her eyes narrowing as she leaned closer. She noticed a tiny, secondary light blinking rapidly on the edge of the dial.
Right on cue, the Omnitrix emitted a sharp beep, and a new, synthesized voice played from its speaker.
"Azmuth's wisdom is nothing more than this."
It was Klein's voice, recorded and embedded right over the creator's firewall.
Hearing the blatant mockery, both Ben and Gwen felt the corners of their mouths twitch violently. Their cousin really had an absolute surplus of mischievous energy. He just could not resist leaving a trollish calling card.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Just as the tension finally left the room, a deafening, mechanical roar tore through the quiet morning air outside the Rustbucket.
Simultaneously, a blindingly intense light pierced straight through the RV's windows, illuminating the interior like a second sun.
A flash of brilliant blue light erupted inside the cabin as Grey Matter slapped the dial on his chest, transforming back into his human form.
Klein raised his right arm, shielding his eyes from the harsh glare pouring through the glass. He let out an annoyed click of his tongue. "What the hell is going on now?"
Grandpa Max was already moving, pulling the side door of the Rustbucket open. Klein, Ben, and Gwen piled out right behind him.
The moment their boots hit the dirt, a violent gust of wind slammed into them, kicking up dust and making it nearly impossible to keep their eyes open.
Only when the roaring engines finally powered down and the artificial gale dissipated could they get a clear look at their surroundings. A massive, sleek, heavily armored spaceship had touched down in the clearing just a short distance away from their campsite.
Ben stared blankly at the towering vessel, his jaw hanging slightly open.
A hiss of pressurized air echoed across the clearing as the spaceship's primary hatch opened. Heavy, crystalline footsteps clanked against the metal ramp. A tall, imposing figure stepped out into the sunlight, a figure the Tennyson family was very familiar with.
"Diamondhead?!" Ben yelled, his eyes widening in absolute shock as he stared at the Petrosapien mercenary.
"Long time no see, Ben," Tetrax greeted, his deep, gravelly voice carrying across the distance.
Tetrax actually held a rather good impression of the young Omnitrix wielder. The kid was growing quickly. Sure, he was a bit childish and reckless, but he was a good person. More, Ben had once actively saved him from Klein's terrifying clutches.
At the sudden thought of Klein, Tetrax's gaze shifted to the older cousin standing nearby. The Petrosapien's stoic expression instantly darkened, a grim, uncomfortable tension tightening his rocky features.
"By the way, why exactly did you come here?" Gwen asked, stepping forward, her curiosity overriding her caution.
"I received the Omnitrix's SDM signal," Tetrax replied, keeping his explanation simple and entirely professional.
Ben blinked, scratching the back of his head. "Uh... I heard the letters, but I have absolutely no idea what they mean." He offered a helpless shrug, silently begging the towering alien to stop using technical jargon.
"SDM stands for Self-Destruct Mode," Grandpa Max explained quietly, resting a reassuring hand on his silly grandson's shoulder.
Ben's mouth formed a perfect 'O' as sudden understanding washed over him. "Oh! I get it. So, Diamondhead, you flew all the way out here to solve the explosion problem?" Ben grinned, lifting his left arm to show off the glowing green dial. "But you're way too late. We don't need it anymore. It's already fixed."
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