Advanced chapters on my [email protected]/Saintbarbido.
(Loth's P.O.V)
The impact rattled my bones. My reinforced punch connected squarely with the black drone's chest, but instead of caving in, its frame only dented.
A hollow clang reverberated through the desert night.
That's… it?
Before I could follow through, the machine's tentacle snapped outward. The strike caught me across the ribs, and the force was like getting hit by a freight truck. My body lifted off the ground and I lost all control, ragdolling across the sand until I slammed into a dune.
Pain flared through my arm the instant I tried to move. My wrist bent the wrong way. Fingers—broken. My breaths came shallow, ragged. Sweat dotted my forehead.
I pushed myself upright anyway, dust clinging to my damp skin. "Damn it… this thing's tougher than the others."
A scream ripped across the battlefield.
I snapped my head toward Four Arms.
The drone had him bound—four tentacles restraining his limbs, a fifth latched onto the Omnitrix dial at his shoulder. The metal tendril pulled with surgical precision, trying to wrench the device straight out of his flesh. Sparks of green energy bled from the interface, hissing in the night air. Ben's deeper alien voice twisted in agony, echoing across the dunes.
"Get… off… me!"
My stomach dropped. I didn't think—I moved.
"Son of a—" I cursed under my breath, sprinting at the drone. My legs screamed at the strain, my hand throbbed with every step, but I didn't stop.
This time, I didn't aim to punch.
I launched myself upward, twisting midair. My good hand clamped onto one of the machine's tentacle limbs. Using momentum and every ounce of reinforcement left in my body, I hauled the drone over my shoulder.
Metal groaned. Sand exploded in a spray as the machine hit the ground, crashing hard and releasing its grip on Four Arms.
Ben collapsed to his knees, his reddish form fading as the alien body dissolved. He shrank back to his normal eleven-year-old self, clutching his wrist and trembling, the Omnitrix smoking faintly.
I landed in front of him, breath burning in my lungs. Broken hand hanging uselessly, I still squared my stance. "Stay down, kid."
The drone righted itself with unnatural speed, tentacle feet stabbing into the ground to stabilize. Its eye-lens flared, scanning me.
"Class-5 threat detected. Adjusting parameters—"
The voice cut off as a sharp electric pulse ripped through the air.
The drone spasmed, limbs jerking violently as its systems stuttered. An EMP discharge—direct, controlled.
I turned my head. Grandpa Max stood a few meters away, both hands gripping a heavy alien rifle. Its coils still hummed with residual energy. His eyes locked on mine.
"Now, Loth!" he barked.
No hesitation.
I rushed forward, channeled every thread of anodite energy I could control into my legs. My entire body shook, pink light searing through my veins until my feet burned with power.
One jump.
I came down on the drone with both legs extended, all reinforcement stacked at a single point. The heels.
Impact. Explosion.
The ground split beneath us. Metal shrieked and tore. Heat and dust filled the night.
When it cleared, I was sitting at the center of a small crater, surrounded by sparking scraps of black alloy. My chest heaved, sweat dripping down my forehead.
I glanced at Max, holding up what was my twisted wrist. "I think I just broke… both feet and a hand."
-0-
(50 miles later)
(Campsite in the woods)
Max handed me a steaming mug as he lowered himself onto the log across from me.
"How you holding up, kid?"
I lifted the cup in one hand, turning it so he could see. My wrist—broken hours ago—was already healed, skin smooth, bones set. My feet too. "Better than I should be."
Max gave a grunt that was half approval, half skepticism.
Behind us, chaos. Gwen shrieked as a slobbering Wildmutt bounded after her in circles around the RV, Ben's latest transformation drooling and barking with no sense of dignity. She swung a rolled-up magazine like a sword, yelling for him to quit.
I watched them for a moment, sipping the bitter coffee. "Do they always bounce back this quick after nearly dying?"
Max didn't even look. "Runs in the family."
That answer said more than it should have.
I leaned forward, elbows on my knees. "You know Vilgax isn't going to stop. He'll burn this planet down for the Omnitrix."
Max's eyes narrowed slightly at the name but he didn't take the bait. Instead, he studied me. "You know a lot for someone who just dropped into our laps. So let's cut the games, Loth. Who are you, and how do you know so much about things not even most Plumbers are cleared for?"
I sat quiet, weighing the risk. I could lie, keep my secrets, and lose the only ally I had in this strange world. Or I could come clean and trust that Max Tennyson's reputation meant what I thought it did.
Finally, I asked, "You ever heard of the multiverse?"
The conversation stretched long into the night. I explained what I could—where I came from, what I was. The fire crackled down to glowing embers, shadows dancing around us. By the time I finished, Gwen and Ben had collapsed against each other, sound asleep on a blanket near the RV.
Max rubbed his chin, thoughtful. "That's one hell of a story. But… not the weirdest thing I've heard in my time." His brow furrowed. "Still, hard to swallow you're an Anodite from another dimension. Anodites are typically…"
"Pink and glowy?" I cut in. "Yeah. I'm a special case. Before landing here I lost access to my Anodite form. This world has my powers in a fritz. Every spell I cast destabilizes. Normally I wouldn't be struggling against drones, Vilgax's or not." I looked him dead in the eye. "That's why I need to know if your Plumber archives have something that could help stabilize me."
Max glanced at the fire. "It's out. Time to get these two to bed." He stood, scooping Gwen up in his arms. "Give me a hand with Ben."
Together we carried them inside, tucking them into their bunks. Ben mumbled something about "Sumo Slammers," Gwen groaned "shut up, dweeb" even in her sleep. Some things never changed.
I stepped back out into the desert air, staring up at the pale moon. For a fleeting moment, I wondered—did gods exist here? If I prayed, would Hecate hear me across dimensions? Or was I on my own? If I had to pray though, I would ask for Percy and Annabeth's safety.
"Just hold on for me guys..."
The RV door creaked. Max came out with a bundle under one arm.
"Your father ever teach you to pitch a tent?"
I shook my head.
He smirked, clapping my shoulder as he passed. "It's easy. Useful skill when you're far from home." He handed me a sleeping bag and some stakes.
Apparently the RV wasn't big enough to house all 4 of us. No biggie, I actually preferred that arrangement.
We worked in the cool night air, pinning down canvas. Max spoke without looking at me. "Met an Anodite once. Ben and Gwen's grandmother, actually."
I feigned surprise. "You… banged an alien made of energy? Damn, old man. Talk about aura."
Max barked a laugh. "Not exactly. Verdona took human form when we dated. Now slam that pike deeper, unless you want the tent top blowing off."
I drove it into the earth, considering his words. "That explains it. I felt the potential in them earlier. Ben's no mage, but Gwen's got talent. Verdona's bloodline… yeah, it adds up."
Max stopped hammering for a moment, eyes going sharp. "Then that's the price of my help. Teach Ben how to handle the Omnitrix. To protect himself—and his cousin."
He extended a hand. "Do that, and I'll get you to a Plumber base. You'll have access to everything we've got on Anodites."
I looked at the offered hand, then grinned. "It's a deal."
Our palms met, firm.
For the first time since arriving here, I didn't feel completely directionless.
(General P.O.V)
This summer was supposed to be hers.
Gwen had planned it out months in advance—joining an art workshop, learning the violin, hanging out at the mall with her friends, even just enjoying the quiet of her own room. Instead, her parents had decided that spending three months crammed into an RV with her eccentric grandpa and her insufferable cousin would be "good for her character."
As if dodging death-by-killer-robot, eating worms for dinner, and getting slimed by alien drool counted as "character building."
She leaned back in her lawn chair on top of the Rustbucket, holding her phone like a sniper scope. Down below, Stinkfly buzzed through the air, attempted a sharp turn, clipped a tree trunk, and spiraled into a mud pit with a wet splat. Gwen snapped the picture right as he went under, her smirk widening.
Maybe this summer wouldn't be a total disaster after all.
On the ground, Loth was grinding his teeth. His carefully prepared obstacle course—hours of work cutting and shaping logs, arranging pits, weaving ropes—was in ruins after just three rounds of Ben barreling through it like a wrecking ball. The kid ignored every instruction, every correction.
"Ben, you have to stop and think," Loth snapped as Diamondhead rose from the wreckage of the course, crystalline shoulders dripping mud.
The Omnitrix flashed red and timed out, leaving Ben scowling in the dirt.
"This is stupid, Teach. When are you gonna show me the good stuff? Like the glowing punch! Or that judo-thing you did on the robot. That was cool!"
Loth's jaw tightened. "Basics first. If you can't handle this, you'll never handle the rest."
Before Ben could argue, a voice cut across the camp. "Loth! Over here a second!"
Max stood by the RV, holding a bucket of freshly caught fish. With obvious relief, Loth told Ben, "Don't touch anything. Don't do anything. I'll be right back."
Ben rolled his eyes, already scheming. Gwen quietly snapped another photo.
By the RV, Loth crouched beside Max as they set to work descaling fish. The sound of scraping blades and Max's tuneless humming filled the silence.
"Stop that," Loth muttered.
"What, this?" Max hummed louder, grinning.
"You're doing it on purpose."
"Maybe."
Loth shook his head, exasperated. "Your grandson is the most stubborn kid I've met in any dimension. Teaching him is impossible."
Max chuckled, low and genuine. "He gets it honest. Take it easy, Loth. You've got time. The two of you'll figure each other out."
Before Loth could reply, a sharp scream split the air. Gwen.
Both men dropped what they were doing and bolted.
They skidded to a halt outside the RV. The obstacle course wasn't just wrecked—it was floating. Splintered logs and broken ropes hovered in the air as if caught in orbit around something.
At the center of it all, Ben stood transformed.
Or rather—what Ben had become.
His body was a silhouette of endless black, dotted with constellations that shifted like living stars. His eyes burned an unnatural green, alien and unblinking. Each movement bent the air around him, the remains of the course twisting with invisible gravity.
Gwen froze, her scream caught in her throat. Max's face went hard, but his hand instinctively reached for the weapon holstered under his jacket.
Loth's stomach dropped. He knew this form. He knew it too well.
"Alien X…" The words tumbled out, ragged. His voice cracked into panic. "Oh shit. Shit. This is bad Max."