Inside the Primus Technologies Medical Wing
The sterile white corridors of the medical facility hummed with quiet efficiency, but the tension in the air was almost palpable. Both Norman and Harry Osborn lay unconscious in separate treatment pods, their vital signs displayed on holographic monitors that cast an eerie blue glow across their pale faces. Advanced healing nanites worked tirelessly to repair the damage inflicted during the space conflict, but their progress seemed frustratingly slow.
Ben stood outside the reinforced glass partition alongside his dad Ben Sr. and May, all three of them watching the medical scanners with growing anxiety. The usually bustling corridors felt unnaturally quiet, too many of their friends and allies were scattered across the cosmos, fighting battles that seemed to multiply by the hour. When Norman had been injured, Ben Sr. and May had immediately evacuated him from the front lines, racing back to Earth with their enhanced super-soldier abilities pushed to their limits. They'd barely set foot in the medical bay when the devastating news about Peter's capture had reached them.
The weight of it all pressed down on them like a physical force.
"That's exactly what happened," Flash Thompson said, his voice heavy with self-recrimination as he finished recounting the battle with Morlun. "If I'd just contacted the Plumbers sooner, if I'd been faster, stronger, maybe Peter would still be here."
Flash's hands clenched into fists at his sides, the memory of watching Peter disappear through that dimensional portal played on repeat in his mind, each iteration more painful than the last.
"It's not your fault, son," Uncle Ben said firmly, placing a reassuring hand on Flash's shoulder. Despite his own anxiety about Peter's fate, the older man's voice remained steady and compassionate. "What you're describing, this Morlun character with that Nemetrix device, even if you'd called for backup immediately, it might not have made a difference."
Ben Sr.'s weathered face reflected the wisdom earned through years of dangerous Plumber missions across the galaxy. He understood better than most how quickly a situation could spiral beyond anyone's control, especially when facing an enemy with unknown capabilities.
The harsh reality was that Norman Osborn had taken most of the Plumbers' primary combat forces into deep space for the rescue operations. Steve Rogers was commanding operations on the space front lines, dealing with the territorial disputes arising from the Shi'ar Empire's collapse. The few remaining combat-capable members were either conducting critical research on antimatter weapons in Wakanda's laboratories or, like Banner, had gone missing entirely. Even Dr. Connors, despite his enhanced Lizard abilities, would have been vulnerable, his animal-based powers making him just another target for the Nemetrix's predatory transformations.
The truth was stark and unforgiving: with the Nemetrix in Morlun's possession, most of Earth's heroes would have been utterly outmatched.
"The Inheritor family of multiverse hunters," Ben said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper that seemed to make the air itself grow colder. "They actually had the audacity to lay their hands on my cousin."
His eyes flashed with an inner fire that spoke of barely contained cosmic power. "I think they have a death wish."
The casual way he pronounced their doom would have been chilling to anyone who didn't know him well. But Ben Sr. and May had seen that look before, it was the same expression he'd worn when facing down Thanos, Vilgax, and every other space threat that had dared to threaten their family.
"The most important thing right now is getting Peter back safely," Ben Sr. said, his voice taking on the authoritative tone of a seasoned field commander. His enhanced physique from the super-soldier serum was clearly visible as he straightened to his full height. "Ben, can you track Peter's current location? Any kind of dimensional signature or energy trail?"
Ben shook his head grimly, his jaw tightening with frustration. "These parasites are craftier than I gave them credit for. The Plumber communicator I'd given Peter has been completely destroyed, either that or they've found a way to block its signal across dimensional boundaries."
The admission clearly grated on him. For someone who had conquered space empires and rewritten the laws of physics, being unable to locate a single kidnapped teenager felt like a personal failure.
"Then what do we do?" May's voice cracked slightly, her enhanced super-soldier composure finally showing hairline fractures under the weight of maternal fear. "If we can't find Peter, if we can't track him..."
She couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence, couldn't voice the terrible possibilities that lurked in the dark corners of her mind. The thought of Peter facing torture, or worse at the hands of interdimensional vampires was almost unbearable.
"Don't worry," Ben said, his tone shifting to something more reassuring as he reached out to squeeze her hand. "Venom went with them, Flash mentioned that Morlun's abilities don't seem to work properly on symbiotes. Their resistance is throwing off his power absorption. Plus, I'm already tracking the spatial fluctuations throughout the local multiverse cluster. If absolutely necessary..."
He paused, his expression growing distant for a moment as he considered options that could reshape reality itself.
"If it comes down to it, I can use Alien X to reset the timeline. But that's a last resort, the ramifications could be catastrophic."
The weight of that statement settled over them. Ben had used Alien X's reality-warping abilities before, but never lightly, and never without consequences that rippled across the cosmos.
"Leave the rescue mission to us," Ben Sr. said suddenly, stepping forward and wrapping his arm protectively around May's shoulders. His voice carried the kind of quiet determination that had made him a legendary Plumber in his own right. "They dared to hurt our nephew, our family. We're going to make them pay for that mistake."
There was something deeply personal in his tone, the kind of protective fury that only emerged when family was threatened. This wasn't about space justice or interdimensional politics, this was about a boy they'd raised, loved, and watched grow into a hero being taken from them.
Ben nodded approvingly. He understood that need, that burning desire to personally ensure Peter's safety.
"Once we locate them, we'll move together," he agreed.
But Ben Sr. shook his head firmly. "No, Ben. What we're saying is that you need to stay here. The situation in deep space is deteriorating rapidly, and the Plumbers need their leader. We can handle one overconfident vampire."
The older man's expression grew serious as he gestured toward the medical bay where Norman lay unconscious.
"What exactly happened to Norman out there?" Ben asked, his frown deepening as he considered the implications. "Brunnhilde's reports mentioned that the Plumbers were primarily conducting rescue operations."
"They are rescue operations, technically," Uncle Ben explained, his voice taking on the weary tone of someone who had seen too much of galactic politics. "But in practice, we're also claiming territory that previously belonged to the Shi'ar Empire. Every planet, every system, every civilization we 'rescue' from the chaos becomes part of the Plumbers' growing sphere of influence."
It was a harsh reality of space politics, there was no such thing as truly altruistic intervention on a galactic scale. Protection always came with a price, and that price was usually sovereignty.
"If you want Plumber protection, you have to accept Plumber authority," May added quietly. "It's not conquest in the traditional sense, but it's not exactly charity either."
"The Incursean Empire apparently took notice to our expansion," Uncle Ben continued. "They sent a strike force to attack one of our relief convoys. Norman was aboard the command ship when they hit us, he wanted to personally oversee the integration of new worlds into our alliance."
May's expression grew troubled as she remembered those terrifying moments. "Before he lost consciousness, Norman transferred command to Captain America. But I'm worried that this incident might escalate into a full-scale war between the Incurseans and the Plumbers. If that happens, you'll be needed on the front lines."
She looked at Ben with pleading eyes. "We need you here, where you can make the big decisions that affect billions of lives."
Ben Sr. 's hand pressed firmly on Ben's shoulder, his weathered fingers conveying decades of hard-earned wisdom.
"Leave Peter to us. Don't underestimate us."
There was a gentle authority in the way he spoke, the kind that came only from a lifetime of hard-earned wisdom. Ben Sr. had raised him and Peter, guiding them through every stumble and mistake with patience and quiet strength.
"Besides," Ben Sr. added with a concerned frown, "according to what Flash described, this Nemetrix device is specifically designed to counter your Omnitrix. That makes Morlun uniquely dangerous to you personally. If something were to happen to you as well..."
The implication hung in the air like a physical weight. The Plumbers, for all their growing power, still depended heavily on Ben's unique abilities and leadership. Losing him could trigger a collapse that would doom not just Earth, but every world under Plumber protection.
May squeezed Ben's hand almost desperately. "Please, Ben. Let us handle this one. We need to know that at least one of our boys is safe."
Ben looked at both of them for a long moment, then smiled with the kind of confidence that had once stared down the Mad Titan himself.
"You're absolutely right about the Nemetrix being designed to counter the Omnitrix," he said, pulling out a different device from his jacket. The Ultimatrix gleamed with a distinctive design that made both Uncle Ben and Aunt May blink in surprise. "But what does that have to do with my Ultimatrix?"
The device in his hand was clearly more advanced than his original watch, with additional components and a bulkier construction that spoke of enhanced capabilities.
"The Nemetrix might contain predators that can hunt my current alien forms," Ben continued with growing enthusiasm, "but what about those same species evolved a million years into the future? It would be pretty naive of them to think that just having the Nemetrix guarantees victory."
The logic was sound, evolution was an arms race, and Ben had just brought a weapon from the far future to a contemporary fight.
"As for the Plumbers," he added with complete confidence, "I trust Caiera to handle whatever the Incurseans can throw at us."
There was genuine faith in his voice. From the beginning, Ben had been determined that the Plumbers wouldn't become the kind of organization that collapsed without its founder. If they were going to become dependent on a single leader like the Shi'ar Empire had been with their Praetor, then the entire project would have been a failure.
"The Incursean Empire wants to declare war on us?" Ben shrugged dismissively. "Let them come. Bill, Looma, and the others didn't defeat Thanos and Vilgax just to back down from some oversized frogs with delusions of grandeur."
He was right, of course. The Plumbers had grown into a genuine fourth galactic empire in their own right, with technology, allies, and firepower that could rival any established power in the cosmos.
"It's settled then," Ben said with finality. "And remember what we talked about, taking that old family road trip we never got around to?" His smile was warm and genuine, tinged with the kind of affection that made it clear this wasn't just about tactical considerations. "I think this might be the perfect opportunity."
Without waiting for further argument, Ben turned and headed toward the exit, his mind already racing through the modifications he'd need to make to the particle collider. Otto and Tony had successfully created the multiverse-crossing function, but the device was far too large and unwieldy for field operations. He needed something portable, something he could wear like a watch that would allow instant dimensional travel.
Plus, there was another matter that required his attention...
Inside the Alien X Consciousness Space
The infinite void of Alien X's mental realm stretched endlessly in all directions, a place where concepts like up, down, and distance held no meaning. Two massive faces hung in the nothingness, one a field of stars against space darkness, the other a void that seemed to devour light itself.
Ben stood facing his delegate consciousness, both of them dwarfed by the immensity of their space friends. The delegate version looked troubled, shifting uncomfortably under the weight of responsibility.
"Are you sure it's wise to switch places with me right now?" the delegate asked, concern evident in his voice. "The Ultimatrix's actual functionality isn't quite on par with the Omnitrix, is it? Shouldn't we wait until after we've resolved the Peter situation?"
The delegate's desire to experience the outside world again was obvious, but so was his sense of duty. Peter was family, and family came first, that was a principle they both shared.
"The Ultimate Evolution function should be more than sufficient to deal with the Nemetrix," Ben replied confidently. "Besides, the Inheritor family's power levels aren't actually that impressive once you know how to counter them. More importantly, I need to discuss a proposal with Enara and Ouyana about resolving the multiverse collision crisis."
The multiverse collision event loomed over everything else like a space sword of Damocles. Compared to the potential annihilation of entire realities, even Peter's kidnapping seemed manageable.
Upon hearing his words, Ouyana's massive face immediately contorted with an expression of profound sadness, her star-filled features radiating compassion.
"Oh, the poor souls caught in multiverse collisions!" she lamented, her voice echoing across the void like the song of dying stars. "When realities crash together, entire worlds are destroyed and trillions upon trillions of innocent lives are lost. It's so heartbreaking! I propose we pass a motion to make all multiverses absolutely independent, so they can never collide again!"
Enara's void-like face twisted into what might have been a grin, her expression radiating cruel amusement.
"Why would we want to stop the collisions?" she asked with obvious delight. "It's incredibly entertaining to watch alternate versions of the same people fight each other to the death! The drama, the irony, the existential horror, it's absolutely fascinating!"
"But so many people die," Ouyana protested, her voice thick with space sorrow.
"I know!" Enara replied gleefully. "I love watching entire realities drown in blood and chaos. If I absolutely had to prevent collision crises, there's only one solution I'd consider, completely erasing all alternate timelines except one. Think of how wonderfully final that would be!"
The two space beings began their familiar argumentative cycle, their voices growing louder and more passionate as they debated the fate of infinite realities. The sound reverberated through the void like the birth and death of galaxies.
The delegate folded his arms and sighed in exasperation. "See? This is exactly what they always do. They just argue in circles forever."
"I know," Ben replied wearily. "I could hear them even when you were the one stuck in here."
At that comment, both space faces turned their attention to him with alarming intensity.
"Do you think we're annoying?" Enara demanded, her void-features narrowing dangerously. At the same time, Ouyana's star-filled face crumpled with hurt. "That makes me so incredibly sad..."
Ben felt a chill run down his spine. This was exactly like facing an angry girlfriend, except that an angry girlfriend couldn't rewrite the fundamental laws of reality on a whim.
The unspoken question hung in the air: How should you respond when your cosmically powerful partner asks if you find them annoying?
Option A: "Yes, you know you're annoying, so why don't you shut up!"
Ben wasn't suicidal.
"How could I possibly find you annoying?" he said without hesitation, pouring every ounce of sincerity he could muster into his voice. "I love listening to your voices more than anything else. Why do you think I pay attention to every single proposal you make?"
"Really?" Enara's expression grew suspicious, her void-features shifting into something resembling a space squint. "Then tell me, what was the 324,650th proposal we discussed?"
Ben's mind raced through his memories of their endless debates until he found the right one. His expression shifted to shock and disbelief.
"You wanted to release zombie viruses into this universe?" he asked incredulously. "Why would you want to unleash undead plagues on innocent people?"
"For entertainment, obviously," Enara replied matter-of-factly, as if the answer should have been obvious. "Don't try to change the subject. What was the 5,725,000th resolution?"
"That was about rescuing mutants and the Damnation Witch who were eliminated by Chaos Magic in another universe," Ben answered, his brow furrowing as he tried to recall the details.
"What the hell is the Damnation Witch supposed to be?" Enara asked with obvious confusion.
Ben was equally baffled. He searched through his memories and found that this particular proposal was one of the rare ones that had actually been approved and implemented. The Damnation Witch had indeed been transported to his universe, but he had no idea where she'd ended up or what she was doing now.
"Never mind that!" Enara declared, her void-features brightening with malicious glee.
Ouyana's star-filled face practically glowed with happiness. "Oh wonderful! Enara, Ben really does love listening to our voices!"
"Don't be so naive, Ouyana," Enara snorted dismissively. "Of course he can hear us, they're literally the same person split into two consciousness streams."
"Then why did you ask in the first place?" Ouyana wondered innocently.
"Because I felt like it!" Enara huffed like a petulant space deity, which, Ben supposed, was exactly what she was.
The exchange might have been amusing if Ben wasn't acutely aware that these beings could unmake reality on a whim if they got genuinely annoyed with him.
"I have one final question for you," Enara announced, her void-features taking on an expression of mock seriousness. "If you can satisfy both of us with your answer, then we'll agree to consider your proposal about the collision crisis."
Both Ben and his delegate looked up with anticipation, hoping that they were finally making progress toward a solution.
"Which do you prefer, my voice or Ouyana's voice?"
Ben stared at the space beings in horror. He'd been wondering why they were being so cooperative, and now he understood, it was all leading up to this moment.
This was the ultimate trap question, the kind of inquiry that had no correct answer and infinite potential for catastrophic consequences.