"That should do it."
In the cavernous laboratory, a small, grey-skinned warrior stood before the massive console, his large eyes scanning the lines of code he had just rewritten. Ben, in his Grey Matter form, had just finished hijacking the command protocols for Dr. Psychobos's army of Mutant To'kustars.
Psychobos was brilliant, certainly, but his arrogance was a fatal flaw. He viewed the Incurseans as brainless brutes, barely evolved from the swamps, and thus hadn't bothered to encrypt his systems against them. It never occurred to him that a "frog" might possess the intellect of a Galvan.
"With this patch, the clones will answer only to my voice commands," Ben muttered, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. "If the good doctor tries to unleash these giants on me, he's going to be in for a very large, very embarrassing surprise."
He almost felt sorry for Psychobos. Almost.
Finished with his sabotage, Ben slapped the Omnitrix dial. A flash of green light enveloped him, reshaping his diminutive frame into the tall, muscular, and oddly charming form of Bullfrag.
He adjusted his sunglasses and swaggered out of the lab, heading for the secondary hangar bay.
This section of the planetary battleship was a beehive of activity. Incursean warships were docked in neat rows, their engines humming as they underwent final prep. It was an invasion force in waiting.
Ben moved with purpose, flashing his credentials to the guards. His mission was simple: rescue Looma and Felicia.
But the question still gnawed at him—how had Attea managed to capture Looma?
Felicia he could understand; she was skilled, but she was human. A lucky shot or a high-tech trap could take her down. But Looma? She was a Tetramand princess, a warrior who had mastered the Old Power. She could go toe-to-toe with the Hulk and come out grinning. Caiera wasn't her match. Hell, even Vilgax would think twice before engaging her in hand-to-hand combat.
Attea was cunning, sure, but in a straight fight? She was a fly compared to Looma.
"Could it be Ma Vreedle?" Ben mused, stepping onto the shuttle assigned to him. "Even if she used her 'Pretty Boy' Vreedle clones... no, Looma would have smashed them into paste."
He shook his head. Speculation was pointless. He'd get his answers soon enough.
With clearance from Attea herself, his shuttle detached from the mothership and slipped into the void of space, heading for the rendezvous point.
As soon as he was clear of the jamming field, he opened a secure channel to Plumber Command.
"Internal conflict?"
At the Plumber orbital headquarters, the mood in the strategy room shifted from tense to bewildered. The holographic table displayed the galaxy, highlighting the massive movement of Incursean fleets.
Steve Rogers, dressed in his uniform, rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I didn't expect the Incurseans to fracture before the war even started. A coup d'état over a peace conference?"
"It appears the rot in their culture runs deeper than we thought," Norman Osborn sneered from the other side of the table. "Fighting amongst themselves while the galaxy watches. How barbaric."
Caiera the Oldstrong, standing beside Ben's empty chair, shook her head. "It matters little why they are fighting. The instability makes them dangerous. We must assume the Galactic Conference is no longer a diplomatic mission, but a potential war zone. We need to increase security."
"Is that wise?" Peter Parker asked, leaning forward. He wasn't wearing his mask, his face showing the fatigue of long shifts. "The whole point is de-escalation. If we show up with a fleet, the Skrulls and Kree will panic. It'll look like an invasion."
"Should we inform the other empires?" Harry Osborn suggested. "If we tell the Skrulls and Kree that the Incurseans are planning an attack, maybe we can form a coalition. Wipe out the Incursean threat together."
"Absolutely not," Norman shot back, his voice sharp. "Do not mistake our rivals for allies, Harry."
He paced the room, his presence dominating. "If the Skrull and Kree Empires hadn't secretly funded and armed the Incurseans to destabilize the region, Milleous wouldn't be a threat today. They created this monster hoping it would eat us. Now that it's off the leash, let them deal with the bite."
Norman paused, his eyes cold. "In fact, if the Incurseans destroy the Skrull and Kree fleets, it solves two problems for us. We intervene only when it serves our interests."
Peter frowned but stayed silent. Norman was a hawk, ruthless and pragmatic. It was why he liked Ben so much—Ben had the power to back up the hard choices. Peter, with his bleeding heart, and Harry, with his hesitation, often frustrated him.
"Director Osborn has a point," Beta Ray Bill rumbled, his voice deep and resonant. The Korbinite warrior stood with his arms crossed, Stormbreaker resting against his shoulder. "I have seen civilizations burn because they trusted the Kree. They talk of peace while loading their weapons. We must be prepared to fight everyone in that room."
Caiera nodded in agreement. "We gather the fleet, but we keep them out of sight. We'll stage them in the Null Void Realm."
"The Null Void?" Harry blinked. "I've heard the term, but..."
"It's a pocket dimension," Caiera explained, pulling up a schematic. "A prison realm, vast and empty. We have a projector capable of opening a stable gateway. We can hide an entire armada there, ready to jump in the moment a signal is given."
"We have particle colliders that can open gates," Peter noted. "Why not use those?"
"Energy signature," Caiera replied. "Opening a portal large enough for a fleet generates a massive spike. The Kree scanners would pick it up instantly. The Null Void projector is diffrent, more subtle. It works like a door rather than a tear in space-time."
"We should also activate the Planetary Defense Grid," Steve suggested. "If the Incurseans—or anyone else—decide to use a Death Ray Cannon, we need to be ready."
He had seen the devastation firsthand. Milleous had once wiped out a solar system just to make a point.
"Agreed," Caiera said. "Though, with Ben there... I suspect any Death Ray will find itself returned to sender."
The Skrull Empire
Deep within the Skrull throneworld, in a facility hidden even from most high-ranking officials, a massive construction project was nearing completion.
It was an artificial satellite, glowing with golden energy, designed to mimic the radiation of a specific star.
Queen Veranke stood on a viewing platform, flanked by her elite guards. Before her stood Kl'rt, the Super-Skrull, his body rippling with unstable power.
"Kl'rt," Veranke said, her voice heavy with religious fervor. "You are the final hope of our civilization."
"I serve the Empire," Kl'rt replied, his voice gravelly.
"I have foreseen it," Veranke continued, her eyes wide. "A tide of darkness is coming. A wave that will swallow the galaxy. The Shi'ar fell because they were weak. We will not share their fate."
As a devout follower of the extremist sect of Dardanism, Veranke believed the Skrull Empire was destined for a divine reckoning. The collapse of the Shi'ar Empire years ago had only solidified her paranoia. Survival required strength. Absolute, overwhelming strength.
"Do you remember the plan?" she asked.
Kl'rt hesitated for a fraction of a second. His mind flashed to his wife and daughter, the family he had left behind for this mission. "I am to infiltrate the conference. Get close to Ben Parker. And copy the genetic codes within his Omnitrix."
Veranke nodded. "We demanded the King of Sakaar's attendance for this very reason. We need his power. We saw what he did to Gladiator. He crushed a black hole in his hand. We need that god-like strength."
"I have a concern," Kl'rt admitted, looking at his hands, which shifted from rock to fire. "When I mimic powers, the energy drain is severe. To copy a being like Ben Parker... it might kill me before I can use it."
"Do not fear," Veranke said, pointing to the golden satellite rising into the launch bay. "That is why we built this. It will beam pure cosmic energy directly to you, across any distance. You will have an endless reservoir of power. You will not just copy him, Kl'rt. You will surpass him."
She smiled, a cold, predatory expression. "First, we take his power. Then, we infiltrate the Plumbers. We will take their planet, their empire, and make their home... our new home."
The Kree Empire
In the sterile white halls of the Kree Science Directorate, the Supreme Intelligence's voice echoed from every speaker.
"The fabrication of the Cosmic Cube has failed."
The AI sounded bored, as if reporting a minor weather fluctuation rather than the failure of a project that cost trillions of credits.
"Regrettable," the Kree Accuser Tar-Rell said, though he didn't look disappointed.
In his hand, held with reverent care, was a jagged, glowing shard of ice-blue energy.
It was a fragment of the Tesseract.
The experiment to replicate the Infinity Stone had failed to produce a stable cube, but the explosion had yielded this. A shard of concentrated reality-warping power.
"But not a total loss," Tar-Rell murmured, the blue light reflecting in his eyes. "It lacks the infinite capacity of the original, but the energy within this fragment is still... intoxicating."
"It is sufficient," the Supreme Intelligence agreed. "We can use it to enhance our warriors. To create a new breed of soldier. Just like the traitor, Carol Danvers."
Tar-Rell closed his hand around the shard. "Notify the subjects. The Highbreed. Tell them... it is time for a secret invasion."