Aaron didn't sleep that night. He couldn't. Every time his eyes closed the mask showed him things, flashes that felt too real, too sharp, like needles through his brain. Emily's face stretched into a grin while her jaw unhinged like a snake. Kly'thel's body swelling with something moving inside her stomach. A circus tent full of laughing faces, but all of them were the same face — his own. He woke with his own voice echoing in his skull, hoarse from screaming and choking back bile.
The forest was silent except for the faint hum in the air that never stopped. He didn't know if it was really there or just the mask feeding noise into his nerves. His hands shook as he held them out in front of his face. They didn't even feel like his anymore. His skin had gone pale, veins standing out black-blue, and when he flexed his fingers, he swore he could feel the Lustrix flexing with them, like it wasn't separate, like it was inside his muscles now.
He stumbled back to the cave at dawn, though the word "dawn" didn't fit anymore. The sun came up grey, the trees stretched in shapes that looked wrong, stretched too long across the ground. Inside, the smell hit him first. Copper. Sweat. Something rotting. Emily stirred when he stepped in, eyes half-open, lips dry and split. She didn't ask for help anymore. She didn't beg. She just looked at him with hollow eyes that didn't even seem to see him, and then rolled onto her side, curling up though her body barely held together.
Aaron felt the laugh bubbling up again but forced it down, pressing his fist to his mouth until he tasted blood. He wanted to throw up but his stomach had nothing left. He wanted to run but his legs locked. He stood in the mouth of that cave until his knees gave out, and then he sat there shaking.
The Lustrix wasn't quiet. It was never quiet. It whispered constantly, hungry, demanding. Find more. Break more. Breed more. Sometimes it hissed in a thousand voices, sometimes it was just one, low and wet in his ear like someone pressed their lips against it. The more he fought it, the louder it got. The mask had patience. He didn't.
Far above, Vilgax's ship broke into orbit. The hull was scarred from old wars, engines rumbling with the weight of something that had crossed half the galaxy just for this. He stood in the command chamber, his bulk filling it almost completely, his tendrils twitching with anticipation. The Omnitrix. The signal was no trick. It had cried for help. It was real.
He leaned against the console, his claws tapping into the holographic display. Earth glowed in front of him, a fragile sphere of green and blue. He could crush it if he wanted, scour it bare, but he wasn't here for conquest. Not yet. He was here for the weapon. And if the weapon was already in the hands of children, all the better.
He allowed himself a low growl of pleasure, imagining it on his wrist, pulsing with the energy of a million species, bending to his will. He remembered the agony of his last defeat, his body left broken and burned in space. This time, he wouldn't lose.
Down below, Aaron finally pushed himself to his feet. His head pounded with a rhythm that didn't belong to him. His eyes darted back to Emily, back to Kly'thel, and then away again. He couldn't face them. He couldn't face what he'd done. He stumbled out of the cave again into the woods, the mask tugging at him, pulling him toward something. He didn't even fight it this time.
The mask wanted a new victim.
He walked for what felt like hours. His body was heavy, like every step dragged chains behind him. He thought he heard children's voices ahead — laughter, chatter. For a moment he almost broke, almost turned back, but the Lustrix pressed harder against his mind until his nose bled and his eyes watered.
Through the trees he saw them. A family campsite. A small group huddled around a fire pit, roasting food, laughing. A girl close to his age sat on a log, brushing her hair out of her face while she smiled at something her brother said. Normal. Clean. Alive.
Aaron crouched low, his breath coming in sharp, shallow bursts. He shook his head. He told himself no. He told himself he couldn't. But the mask whispered louder, turning the laughter into screams in his head, making the girl's smile stretch into something obscene. His hand flexed, trembling, and then stilled.
He was moving before he realized it. His body wasn't his anymore.
Far above the planet, Vilgax began the descent.