"Son of a bitch!" Nick Fury cursed explosively, throwing himself flat as an energy beam seared past his head, close enough that he felt his scalp singe.
He'd come to this conference as an observer, curious to see how galactic politics actually worked at the highest levels. Instead, he'd been dragged into a warzone that made the Battle of New York look like a minor skirmish.
"I'm never attending another goddamn galactic conference again!" he shouted to nobody in particular, scrambling behind a collapsed support pillar.
BOOM!
A golden energy beam lanced down from above, vaporizing several Incurseans warriors who'd been closing in on his position. The corpses didn't even have time to scream before they were reduced to component atoms.
Captain Marvel descended slowly, her entire body wreathed in photonic fire that made her look like a falling star. Her expression was calm, almost serene, despite the chaos erupting around them.
"Nick, I'll escort you back to your ship," she said, extending a hand.
"No." Nick Fury pulled himself upright, his tactical mind already working despite the danger. His single eye tracked upward, focusing on the most prominent feature of the battlefield—the massive chimeric monstrosity that dominated the center of the devastation. "I can make it back myself. You're needed here."
Captain Marvel followed his gaze, and her eyes widened with shock. "What in the hell is that thing?"
The creature was a biological nightmare, a fusion of incompatible species that should never have existed. Its very appearance violated fundamental principles of genetics and anatomy. Limbs sprouted from asymmetrical locations. Multiple heads swayed on different-length necks. Its skin shifted between textures and colors as though it couldn't decide what it was supposed to be.
Nick Fury's analytical mind cut through the horror, identifying components with the efficiency of a mechanic diagnosing a broken engine.
"Those are... Four arm limbs with it characteristic musculature. And that's a Heatblast's flame generation organ. The crystalline limb is definitely Diamondhead." His voice grew quieter, more disturbed. "They're all Ben Parker's alien forms. Every single one. Has the watch finally malfunctioned?"
"I don't think that's what happened." Captain Marvel pointed toward the base of the chimera.
A crimson figure stood there—another Four Arms, but this one was clearly battling the monstrosity rather than controlling it. Peter's transformation was obvious once you knew what to look for.
But something was off about the proportions.
Nick Fury squinted, his paranoid instincts screaming that details mattered. "Is it just me, or is that Four Arms smaller than the one we saw on Earth?"
The difference was subtle but measurable. Peter's Tetramand form stood perhaps eleven feet tall—still massive by human standards, but noticeably shorter than Ben's usual twelve-foot transformation.
Meanwhile, the chimera towered over everything like a kaiju from old Earth monster movies. It stood as tall as two Hulks stacked on top of each other, making Peter's Four Arms look like a child by comparison.
"Carol, stay and help them," Nick Fury said, certainty solidifying in his gut.
Carol nodded, understanding the unspoken implications. As an honorary Plumber, she had obligations to assist Sakaar's forces. More immediately, dozens of innocent delegates were caught in the crossfire, including people like Nick who'd never asked to be part of this nightmare.
But she didn't immediately charge the chimera.
In everyone's eyes, that monster was King Sakaar's personal enemy—some kind of transformed Super Skrull warrior powered by stolen genetic templates. If she interfered without invitation, it would be a grave diplomatic insult, implying that Sakaar's king couldn't handle his own battles.
Instead, she pivoted toward the Incurseans warriors who were gleefully attacking anyone in range, using the chaos to settle old grudges and create new ones.
Peter wanted to scream in frustration.
How did everything go so wrong?
This was supposed to be his moment of triumph. The first time wielding Ben's Omnitrix—the artifact that had become a symbol of hope across the galaxy. The first time attending a space-level diplomatic gathering, representing one of the most powerful civilizations in the known universe.
Two sources of happiness converging into what should have been pure joy.
Instead, it had transformed into a catastrophe of epic proportions.
He didn't have time to process the emotions. His spider-sense erupted like a bomb going off inside his skull, the psychic warning so intense it almost knocked him unconscious.
Peter looked up.
Two fists the size of industrial oil drums were descending toward his head with the force of falling meteors.
The chimera had committed fully to the attack. One hand blazed with diamond-hard crystalline edges sharp enough to cut through vibranium. The other dripped with molten lava that left trails of fire in the air. The combined force promised to reduce Peter to a red smear on the metal floor.
"Die, King Sakaar!" Kl'rt's voice roared from multiple throats simultaneously, harmonizing in a grotesque chorus.
The Super Skrull warrior felt invincible. His body brimmed with power that seemed inexhaustible, an endless wellspring of strength drawn from dozens of genetic templates working in concert.
Under normal circumstances, each of the chimera's abilities should have been limited to roughly one-tenth the power of the original alien form—the price of quantity over quality. But Kl'rt had an advantage that Kevin Levin had never possessed: the entire Skrull Empire's satellite network pumping energy directly into his cellular structure.
Rather than being weakened by dilution, he'd been enhanced. Amplified. Transformed into something that exceeded the sum of its parts.
BOOOM!!!
The impact shook the entire Behemoth Star Ring, a seismic shockwave that registered on instruments light-years away. Metal groaned. Structural supports buckled. Atmosphere shrieked as it was compressed and expelled.
CRASH!
Peter caught both descending fists with his four arms, each hand closing around a massive limb. The moment of contact drove him to his knees, the force transmitted through his skeletal structure with bone-cracking intensity.
Definitely broken something, Peter thought through waves of agony. Maybe multiple somethings.
But he couldn't afford to show weakness. He was representing Ben Parker, the legendary King of Sakaar, the being who'd killed Thanos and Vilgax and a dozen other cosmic-level threats. Showing pain would be a betrayal of everything his cousin had built.
So he gritted his teeth and held the line, refusing to collapse even as his arms trembled with effort.
"So weak," Kl'rt sneered, his multiple faces twisting with contempt. "The rumored King of Sakaar is nothing but a fraud. Is this really all the strength you possess?"
He didn't doubt for a moment that Peter was genuine. After all, the Omnitrix was authentic—he'd absorbed its power directly. The weakness wasn't deception; it was simply the gap between reputation and reality.
Peter had only transformed into one alien form. Kl'rt had absorbed dozens. By simple mathematics, his power should be proportionally greater.
"I'll kill you first," the chimera announced, pressing down harder. His flame arm intensified, fire hot enough to melt steel turning Peter's rock-hard Tetramand skin black and crispy. "Then I'll exterminate every last Kree locust in this system. The Skrull Empire will reign supreme!"
"Enough!" Caiera's voice rang out, and she charged forward with Beta Ray Bill at her side.
The chimera didn't even look concerned. His second pair of arms—the ones sprouting from his ribcage—began to glow with sickly green energy. Gravattack's power, wielded with casual contempt.
The gravity field twisted reality.
Caiera and Bill suddenly floated upward as though strings had been attached to their bodies, completely losing control of their momentum. With a flick of his wrist, Kl'rt sent them hurtling away like discarded toys.
Then the planet's surface responded to his will.
The ground tore itself apart, massive chunks of rock and metal rising into the air and wrapping around the two warriors like ribbon around a gift. The material compressed, twisted, spiraled upward into a towering structure that resembled a tornado frozen in stone.
Even those who'd witnessed this power before felt their blood run cold. The casual ease with which the chimera wielded such devastating abilities was genuinely terrifying.
The creature's tail—a Stinkfly appendage, sharp as a blade—suddenly whipped around and slapped Steve Rogers and Harry Osborn as they attempted a flanking maneuver. Both were sent tumbling across the battlefield like bowling pins.
"How does it feel, Plumbers?" Kl'rt's laughter was manic, drunk on his own power. "How does it feel to be defeated by the very strength you trusted in your king?"
He clenched all six of his fists, savoring the sensation. "Such magnificent power! And now it's all mine! MINE!"
Captain Marvel kicked King J'son of Spartoi hard enough to send him flying into a distant building, then turned her attention to the chimera. Her expression was troubled, analytical.
That monster is incredibly powerful, she thought, but is King Sakaar really that weak?
Something fundamental didn't add up. The chimera's strength was impressive—genuinely impressive. But compared to Ben Parker casually creating black holes with Gravattack, or the way he'd dismantled Gladiator in seconds during the previous conference, this seemed... insufficient. Underwhelming.
She'd been hesitating about whether to intervene, not wanting to insult Sakaar by implying their king needed rescue.
Then Peter moved.
The Four Arms form that had been on the defensive suddenly began to expand like a balloon being inflated. His crimson skin shifted to rough, thick khaki hide. The characteristic four arms of his Tetramand body slowly retracted, absorbed back into a more centralized mass. A thick tail sprouted from the base of his spine, counterbalancing his increasing bulk.
Humungousaur.
Theoretically, the single physically strongest transformation in Ben's standard arsenal—capable of crushing Four Arms in a direct contest of raw power.
This was Peter's first time using the form in actual combat.
As his body grew, a ridge of bone plates erupted along his spine like a stegosaurus. His arms—which had been bent nearly to breaking by the chimera's assault—slowly straightened, muscles bulging with impossible strength as he pushed back against Kl'rt's grip.
"This is impossible!" The chimera's roar carried genuine disbelief and the first hints of fear.
"My strength should be more than ten times yours! The mathematics are undeniable!"
"This is the first time I've fought someone actually stronger than me," Peter grunted, his voice strained with effort. The words were technically true—he usually had to carefully moderate his strength during battles, making sure not to accidentally pulp criminals who were just humans with weapons.
But this enemy was different. This enemy could take everything he had.
As for Kl'rt's claim about being "ten times stronger"—that was obvious nonsense.
The chimera hadn't gained the powers of someone like Kevin Levin, who'd been explicitly limited to one-tenth strength for each absorbed form. But genetics worked like barrels made of wooden planks—even if you had a hundred planks of different heights, the maximum capacity was still limited by the tallest single plank.
In practical terms, that meant Kl'rt's theoretical power ceiling was roughly equivalent to the strongest individual form he'd absorbed, with some enhancement from the satellite network feeding him energy.
Peter's strategy crystallized with perfect clarity: "As long as I can switch forms faster than he can adapt, I'm not necessarily outmatched."
And unlike Kl'rt, who was stuck in his chimeric fusion, Peter had the Omnitrix on his wrist.
Time to show this copycat what the real thing could do.
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