The Builders attempted to awaken maternal compassion within Ben, appealing to the supposed divine connection between creator and creation.
But as they themselves had correctly identified earlier, Ben wasn't genuinely a Captain Universe—the cosmos's chosen champion imbued with its will. He was simply an ordinary person who'd gained access to the Enigma Force through the Omnitrix's replication capabilities.
Maternal love? Parental compassion for his "children"?
Perhaps he'd develop those feelings after Big Chill's species completed its bizarre reproductive cycle and gave birth. Maybe then he'd understand what they were asking for.
But not now.
"Wait! Please wait!" The Builder designated Aleph quickly raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, his voice taking on servile, desperate qualities.
After their false pride had been shattered so completely—their ultimate weapon erased with a casual gesture—the humble nature of these supposedly omnipotent beings was exposed for all to witness.
The Builders collectively tucked their metaphorical tails between their legs, gazing at Ben with expressions mixing awe and terror, but notably no hatred.
They didn't even dare to hate him. The very concept seemed absurd.
Because the power differential was simply too vast, too incomprehensible.
For billions of years, they'd positioned themselves as gods who had surpassed their creators. But that had been nothing more than frogs at the bottom of a well mistaking the moon's reflection for the actual celestial body.
Ben's slightest movement represented the absolute limit of what the Builders could theoretically achieve—and he'd accomplished it effortlessly, almost thoughtlessly.
"You'd better possess sufficient justification to convince me to spare your existence," Ben said, his tone utterly neutral and detached.
His eyes resembled stars shining in distant space—simultaneously blazing hot and frozen cold, radiating contradictory temperatures that somehow coexisted.
"I have critical information to share! Intelligence that explains our actions!" Aleph said frantically, his words tumbling over each other in desperate haste.
Metaphorical sweat poured from his form—or at least the Builder equivalent of perspiration.
"The crisis threatening universal destruction is imminent! We must eliminate Earth immediately to prevent the multiversal collision event!"
He continued rapidly: "That was the primary objective of our deployment—destroying Earth to avert the collision crisis that threatens all reality!"
"Your goal is solely Earth's destruction?" Ben asked with genuine curiosity. "If that's accurate, then why did you annihilate the Skrull Empire? Why did you engage in combat at the Behemoth Star Ring when both locations are nowhere near Earth?"
Honestly, Earth's defenses were practically empty at the moment. Wanda and E.U.N.I.C.E. alone probably couldn't withstand these Builders if they'd attacked directly rather than taking this circuitous route.
"It was simply... convenient," Aleph admitted, his tone carrying profound embarrassment.
They'd destroyed the Skrull Empire for no particularly strategic reason—purely because that civilization happened to be positioned along their route toward Earth, and simultaneously failed to meet the Builders' arbitrary standards for evolutionary fitness.
The same logic applied to their assault on the Behemoth Star Ring.
Yes, the combined might of four major empires had assembled there. So what? Should they have avoided such a concentration of potential resistance?
Ridiculous. They were Builders—they avoided nothing.
But now...
Now they huddled together like captured gangsters, crouching in metaphorical corners while shooting resentful glances at Ben that seemed to communicate: If we'd known HE would be here, we never would have come at all.
"Multiversal collision crisis?" Ben said thoughtfully.
He'd been aware of this threat for some time. In fact, one of E.U.N.I.C.E.'s primary assignments while guarding Earth was specifically addressing that very crisis.
The problem hadn't been resolved yet. At minimum, until Thor and Loki returned from their mission to the Time Variance Authority with actionable intelligence, the collision events would continue occurring with increasing frequency.
What Earth's defenders could accomplish was protecting their specific planet during each collision incident—preventing it from becoming the ash-heap casualty that every failed universe left behind.
Or...
"If we simply abandoned Earth entirely, would that remove us from the multiversal collision events?" Ben asked, considering the strategic implications.
Earth was genuinely a magical, paradoxical location. Technology there remained comparatively backward. The planet's position was remote from major galactic trade routes. Humanity possessed essentially zero political influence in universal affairs.
Yet countless cosmic-level entities congregated there. An unknown number of dimensional demons and pantheon deities constantly schemed to infiltrate or conquer that single, insignificant world.
Every major crisis seemed to originate from that particular rock orbiting an unremarkable yellow star.
Ben had occasionally entertained ideas about simply relocating—evacuating Earth's population entirely and establishing human civilization elsewhere, somewhere the universe's attention wasn't constantly focused.
"I'm afraid that approach wouldn't work," the Builders said, shaking their heads with what appeared to be genuine regret.
"You might assume Earth itself serves as the core anchor for the collision crisis, but that's not accurate." Aleph's voice dropped lower, carrying notes of fear. "Someone—or something—is controlling events from behind the scenes. They're not watching Earth as a location. They're monitoring humanity itself as a concept."
The Builders became extremely secretive at this point, clearly terrified to reveal additional details about whatever cosmic entities were orchestrating these events.
Then these supposedly omnipotent beings rubbed their hands together in an obsequious, pleading manner, awaiting Ben's judgment on their fate.
"I can forgive what you've done," Ben said finally, his eyes resembling celestial bodies—stars and moons whose surfaces revealed no discernible emotion.
The Omnitrix's transformation function was affecting his consciousness directly. This represented the closest he'd ever come to genuine godhood in terms of mental state and perspective.
Previously, even when transformed into Alien X, his human thinking had remained completely unchanged—any action requiring unanimous approval from all three consciousness fragments.
But the Enigma Force was different. It affected him profoundly at this very moment.
He could feel the Universal Power slowly recognizing him as a legitimate vessel, the cosmos's own awareness subtly reshaping his consciousness and perception.
He seemed to have separated from individual existence—becoming something like a disembodied spirit observing everything throughout the universe with perfect objectivity.
Life, species, civilizations, conflicts...
Everything had genuinely begun to feel like his actual children—creations he was responsible for nurturing and guiding.
But his eyes held minimal compassion despite that connection. Because he had transcended conventional empathy—risen beyond normal emotional limitations.
That transcendent perspective was precisely why he was willing to grant the Builders a second opportunity, teaching them humility and proper reverence for forces beyond their comprehension.
But this mercy would definitely not come without cost.
"You will become an exiled race," Ben declared, his voice carrying the weight of cosmic decree. "You'll remain perpetually at the threshold of the Null Void Realm, assisting the Kryptonians in managing that dimensional space."
As for the Aleph robots, those could remain behind as combat assets for Sakaar or be repurposed to upgrade Plumber equipment and capabilities.
The Builders naturally didn't dare disobey these commands. For them, simply surviving this encounter qualified as extraordinarily fortunate.
During the billions of years they'd spent positioning themselves as evolution's spokespersons, they'd never shown mercy to those they'd judged unworthy. The irony of their current situation wasn't lost on anyone.
"Great Lord of All Things! Mother of Creation! Root of all life and consciousness!" Aleph seemed to be transforming into a Cursed Star citizen with his obsequious praise.
It was genuinely difficult to imagine this was the same being who'd been so arrogantly defiant mere minutes ago.
"We will present to you everything our civilization has created over millions of years of development!"
He began listing their technological achievements with desperate enthusiasm: "We have mastered superfluid dynamics and achieved control over space-time manipulation! We created the 'Gardener System' to maintain universal ecological balance..."
The Gardener System referred to the Aleph robots and entities like Ex Nihilo—each golden "gardener" carried a dimensional space within their bodies. They would locate calls for assistance from primitive worlds, release their "gardens," and bring targeted destruction or cultivation as circumstances demanded.
The Aleph robots carried unique genetic seeds within their structures, allowing life to be born from their very essence.
"Finally, we will present our greatest achievement across multiple generations!" Aleph's voice rose with genuine passion. "The 'Superflow Universe Structure'!"
He resembled a child desperately showing off accomplishments to a parent, eager for praise and validation from Ben.
"The Superflow Universe Structure is a network constructed from exotic matter—materials that exist outside conventional physics. Each network thread spans several light-years, creating a web across reality. Using this system, one can traverse the entire known universe in merely a thousand years!"
A thousand years represented a remarkably brief timeframe by Builder standards—practically instantaneous given their billions of years of existence.
But for Ben, that number was functionally worthless.
"I possess the Space Stone and particle collider quantum tunneling capabilities," Ben said flatly. "I can travel through the Quantum Realm and reach the observable universe's edge essentially instantaneously."
"This..."
The Builders were collectively stunned into silence, their enthusiasm deflating like punctured balloons.
Being completely crushed in terms of raw power made sense—Ben wielded the Enigma Force, after all. That was cosmic-scale divinity.
But he was supposedly just an Earthling! How could even their technology—their pride, their genuine area of expertise—fail to impress him?!
Was the treasure they'd cultivated with such care really only at this pathetic level?
Of course not! Aleph retained some pride despite everything.
He immediately rallied: "Spatial traversal is merely the most insignificant application of the Superflow Universe Structure! A side benefit, not the primary function!"
"Its true magnificence lies in what happens when any world connects to the network. The system fundamentally alters several sentient beings within that civilization, transforming them into messengers heralding a new evolutionary era. We designate this transformation the White Event!"
Aleph's explanation was somewhat convoluted and technical, but Ben understood the core concept immediately.
"So this system enables forced evolutionary advancement for selected individuals within a species?" he clarified.
"Precisely! When any planet reaches the critical threshold for evolutionary advancement, the Superflow Structure grants specific individuals extraordinary abilities, making them ambassadors of change!" The Builders' collective voice swelled with obvious pride.
This represented their genuine masterwork—the foundation supporting their claim to be "evolution's spokespersons."
They controlled the power of true evolution! The ability to guide species toward their ultimate potential!
And this was definitely not something a mere Earthling could replicate or understand!
At this moment, Aleph desperately wanted to witness surprise on Ben's face—some acknowledgment of their achievement. They'd suffered too many setbacks before this seemingly ordinary being.
But the result proved disappointing.
Ben's expression remained perfectly calm, even shifting toward something resembling disappointment rather than awe.
That's it? That's really all you have?
"Perhaps you don't yet comprehend this technology's true magnificence," Aleph said, trying to salvage the presentation. "Allow me to demonstrate—"
"Unnecessary," Ben interrupted, shaking his head.
Stripped of pretentious language, wasn't this just the Ultimatrix's Ultimate Evolution function? A feature that Azmuth had conceptualized but ultimately abandoned as insufficiently interesting?
And the Builders regarded this discarded module as their civilization's crowning achievement—the pinnacle of their technological prowess.
The revelation was almost sad.