She couldn't let go of the Bullfrag. Even facing imminent death, that handsome image dominated her thoughts.
"Why should we die?" Ben asked, his tone unnervingly calm.
"Oh! You have the Omnitrix!" Attea's eyes lit up with sudden hope, then immediately dimmed again as reality reasserted itself. "But that's useless. Even if you can transform into a To'kustar, that dead crab has hundreds of To'kustars. You're outnumbered by an absurd margin."
Way Big represented the absolute limit of Attea's imagination regarding powerful lifeforms. She'd heard legends about Alien X, of course, but those were just stories—mythological nonsense that couldn't possibly be real.
"The Death Ray Cannon only requires thirty seconds to reach full charge," she continued, her voice taking on a defeated quality. "We can't possibly reach the Behemoth Star Ring's protection in that timeframe. The distance is too great."
"You don't seriously believe that planetary shield can withstand the Death Storm from thousands of Waybads, do you?" Dr. Psychobos's voice oozed smug satisfaction. "In the presence of my Waybad armie, your primitive technology is no different from stone age tools! It will be swept away with the slightest touch!"
He was practically vibrating with self-satisfaction. "I'm being generous by even explaining this to you!"
"Even Azmuth's precious Omnitrix cannot stop me! I, Dr. Psychobos, am the smartest being in the universe!"
Ben looked at him through the viewscreen with slightly narrowed eyes. Don't taunt fate, you fool. You're going to lose.
Dr. Psychobos, completely oblivious to his impending humiliation, continued his monologue. "Go ahead, transform! You'll become cosmic dust regardless. At least die showing me your best effort!"
Instead of transforming, Ben canceled his Four Arms state entirely, reverting to human form. He settled into the pilot's seat and crossed his legs, the picture of relaxation.
"Are you absolutely certain those are your Waybads?" he asked casually.
"What kind of stupid question is that?! Of course they're mine! Whose else would they be?!" Dr. Psychobos sputtered indignantly.
"You clearly don't understand," the scientist continued, his pride demanding he explain his genius. "Did you really think you could just leave your genetic slop all over the battlefield after your tussle with Vilgax and I wouldn't find a use for it? These... 'Way Bads,' as I call them... are my masterpieces, cloned from the very To'kustar DNA you so carelessly abandoned! In fact, as a little 'thank you' for your generous, idiotic donation, I decided to name them in your honor. You have your pathetic 'Way Big,' so I created my far superior, 'Way Bad' army! A fitting joke, don't you think? I started from individual cells, personally overseeing their growth, and implanted genetic programming to ensure absolute obedience to my commands!"
His voice rose triumphantly. "I am their master! Their creator! Their GOD!"
"That's exactly why I said you're arrogant and stupid," Ben replied, his tone almost pitying. "Compared to Azmuth, you're not even in the same league. But honestly, you're not even close to my level either."
Ben snapped his fingers lightly.
In the void of space, those hundreds of Waybads—dark-bodied To'kustar specimens with faces like nightmares—seemed to hear a silent command. The Cosmic Ray energy they'd been gathering didn't dissipate. Instead, every single one of them pivoted in perfect synchronization, redirecting their accumulated power away from the Behemoth Star Ring.
Their new target: the Incurseans flagship. Specifically, the command center where Dr. Psychobos stood.
"Now then," Ben said, raising his eyebrows with theatrical frivolity, "who exactly is their master?"
"This is amazing!" Attea's eyes blazed with renewed hope and something approaching worship. "You're incredible! Truly worthy of being the man I chose!"
"This is IMPOSSIBLE!" Dr. Psychobos's voice cracked with disbelief, his superior intellect finally catching up to reality.
How could the Waybad army he'd cultivated with such painstaking effort obey that child's commands?! The programming was flawless! He'd triple-checked every genetic subroutine!
"What's so impossible about it?" Ben asked, genuinely curious about the scientist's confusion. "You simply programmed their genetic code in advance to respond to your specific command protocols. But I cracked that programming. You shouldn't have forgotten—you personally escorted me through their nurturing chambers, remember?"
Dr. Psychobos did remember. It was true.
But Ben had only stayed aboard for less than one day total before Attea command him to her side. He'd been alone for perhaps a few hours at most.
"You're telling me you cracked my masterwork—my life's greatest achievement—in just a few hours?!" The scientist's voice rose to a strangled shriek.
His entire worldview was collapsing. People like him, who genuinely believed themselves to be unparalleled geniuses, couldn't tolerate the revelation that their most carefully designed systems were nothing more than simple toys to someone else.
"I do have to give you some credit," Ben said, his tone light and conversational. "After all, making me spend several whole hours cracking your security? That's genuinely impressive work."
The implication was devastating: Even three seconds would have been generous praise for your skills.
"YOU—!!!" Dr. Psychobos couldn't form coherent words, his rage and humiliation choking off speech.
He crushed the communicator in his claw, shattering the device rather than endure another second of Ben's casual superiority.
"Damn you, Ben Parker!" he screamed at the dead screen.
He already knew he was finished. Even with the Death Ray Cannon, he couldn't fight hundreds of Waybads simultaneously. The math was impossible.
But before he died, he could at least drag his tormentor down with him!
"Hehehehe! Even if you've stolen my Waybads, so what?!" Psychobos's laughter carried notes of genuine madness. "You don't have time to return to the planetary shield's protection! I'll fire the Death Ray Cannon right now! The energy released by the explosion will vaporize everything within light-years!"
His compound eyes gleamed with insane satisfaction. "You'll die with me! That's victory enough!"
Dr. Psychobos slammed his claw down on the firing mechanism with all his strength.
Nothing happened.
The Death Ray Cannon, fully charged to 100% capacity, sat completely motionless. Inert. Dead.
"What's going on?!" Psychobos stabbed at the controls repeatedly, his movements growing increasingly frantic. Like someone waiting for an elevator that would never arrive, he pressed the button over and over, each time expecting different results.
Then the main display screen went black.
A few lines of text scrolled across the darkness:
[Forgot to mention: I also hacked the Death Ray Cannon's firing system. You're trapped inside your flagship, and you'll be buried alongside the Incurseans Empire. Have a nice death. - Ben Parker]
After that message finished scrolling, the flagship's entire internal system suddenly shut down, as though the massive warship had transformed into a gigantic coffin floating through space.
Dr. Psychobos frantically hammered the console, screaming orders at terrified Incurseans soldiers to activate backup systems. But no matter how desperately he engaged his hyper-developed brain, he couldn't break through the firewall Ben had installed.
The scientist was trapped. Helpless. Defeated by an opponent who'd barely broken a sweat.
Inside the Behemoth Star Ring
Many of the survivors still didn't fully understand what had happened.
They only knew that the anticipated devastating assault had simply... stopped. The densely packed Incurseans warships went dark as though someone had flipped a master power switch. And those hundreds of Waybads—the terrifying To'kustar army that should have obliterated them—had pivoted to face the Incurseans fleet itself.
Then a small opening appeared in the protective barrier, and a single spacecraft descended toward the Ring's surface.
Ben remotely piloted the vessel to a smooth landing while simultaneously transmitting the final attack command to his commandeered Waybads.
For several seconds, thousands of Cosmic Rays lanced outward in perfect coordination, sweeping through the disabled Incurseans fleet like a farmer scattering pigeons. Battleships exploded in brilliant cascades, their hulls unable to withstand concentrated To'kustar firepower.
Now everyone inside the Star Ring understood.
The Incurseans Empire was finished. Completely and utterly destroyed.
Going against the Sakaar Empire really was a death sentence. Every single time, without exception.
The Incurseans had been annihilated. The Kree Empire and Skrull Empire had both fled during the chaos—their leadership vanished, their delegations scattered. All the major space empires had become jokes in a single afternoon.
From this moment forward, only the Sakaar Empire could claim true dominance over the known universe.
Emperor Milleous felt his heart sink into despair. Despite everything—despite the betrayal, the coup attempt, the patricidal ambitions—he was genuinely worried that Attea had died in the bombardment.
Fortunately, the landed spacecraft's hatch opened quickly. Ben emerged carrying Attea like a sack of vegetables and unceremoniously dumped her bound form onto the metal deck.
Milleous released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
Yes, Attea smoked. Yes, she drank. Yes, she'd gotten her hair permed (well, not really, but metaphorically). Yes, she'd actively plotted to murder her own father.
But they were still family. That had to count for something.
"King!" Beta Ray Bill removed his hammer from his belt and bowed respectfully as Ben approached.
"Bill, prepare the medical bay immediately," Ben ordered, turning back toward the spacecraft.
He carried Felicia and Looma down the ramp with far more care than he'd shown Attea, both women still unconscious but breathing steadily.
"Looma was injured this severely?" Caiera asked, genuine shock coloring her voice.
She maintained an extraordinary relationship with Looma—they'd trained together, fought together, respected each other's capabilities. Caiera knew better than anyone just how formidable the Red Wind Princess was in combat.
Aside from losing to Ben, Looma rarely lost one-on-one battles against anyone.
Caiera's gaze shifted to Attea, her silver features hardening with suspicion and anger. The Incurseans must have used some despicable tactic—poison, perhaps, or overwhelming numbers—to defeat someone of Looma's caliber.
Attea immediately bristled, her face contorting with indignation despite still being hogtied. "Why are you looking at me like that?! I saved her!"
She struggled against her bonds, voice rising defensively. "If I hadn't detected their distress signal and responded, they would have died floating in the void! I'm the reason they're even alive!"