"Welcome to my Soul Society."
Evan said those words in such a casual tone that it almost made the situation more ridiculous. He was sitting on a stone throne in the middle of a burning wasteland, surrounded by ominous blue flames, and acting like a villain who had just welcomed his unfortunate victims into their doom.
It was the kind of dramatic entrance that would have looked perfectly at home in a movie, complete with an intimidating atmosphere and a confident smirk.
And yet, for Ben, it only made the situation even harder to understand.
What was going on?
Why was Evan acting like a villain? Why had their surroundings suddenly changed? And, most importantly, why did the sight of him feel so familiar when Ben could barely remember who he was?
Ben stared at the figure sitting on the throne, trying to make sense of everything happening around him. The headache pounding inside his skull certainly wasn't helping. Every time he tried to reach for the memories hidden somewhere in his mind, the pain seemed to get worse, leaving him with more questions than answers.
Meanwhile, Max and Gwen had both tensed up.
Neither of them had expected this turn of events. The Forever Knights had gone to the trouble of blocking Evan from Ben's memories, making it seem as though he had never existed in the first place. Yet, now the Forever Knights had deliberately brought Evan back and placed him in the role of a main villain.
Orfevre and Gold Ship, on the other hand, were having a rather different reaction.
Both sisters had raised their hands to their chins, looking at Evan with expressions of genuine confusion. They glanced at each other before looking back at their brother, who continued to sit on his throne with the confidence of someone who believed the entire world was his personal stage.
That entrance. That attitude. That ridiculously over-the-top display of power.
Why did all of this feel like something their brother would do?
The two sisters couldn't quite put their fingers on it, but something about this Evan's behavior felt strangely familiar.
After all, both Orfevre and Gold Ship had already noticed their brother's personality shift before. It hadn't taken them long to adapt, either. They had grown accustomed to the strange changes in each other's behavior, to the point where they could recognize when one of their siblings suddenly started acting differently.
It was simply something the Gold Family had learned to live with.
Gold Ship, for example, had once enjoyed pulling pranks on Dream Journey. Back then, teasing her elder sister had been a perfectly acceptable way to entertain herself. However, those days had come to an abrupt end after Journey's sudden personality change.
Gold Ship had become genuinely afraid of her eldest sister.
And it wasn't because Dream Journey had actually done anything to her. Rather, it was because Gold Ship had started imagining all the things Journey might do if she ever decided to stop holding herself back.
For instance, there was the possibility of Journey dragging her into a box and burying her alive. Or perhaps she would tie Gold Ship's legs to a large cinder block before dropping her into the bottom of the ocean.
Those were only a couple of the possibilities Gold Ship had come up with, and the fact that Dream Journey had never actually done any of those things did little to reassure her.
After all, just because Journey hadn't done it didn't mean she had never considered the idea.
Gold Ship knew this wasn't just her strange thoughts or her overthinking things; she and Fenomeno found their eldest sister's diary and accidentally read some of her deeply hidden thoughts.
Ever since that day, both younger sisters had become much more careful about messing with Dream Journey.
Who knew their normally composed eldest sister might one day snap, and that no one would ever find their bodies?
And the strangest part was that Dream Journey wasn't the only one with this peculiar trait.
All of Stay Gold's children possessed this special tendency to undergo sudden personality shifts. It was something that had become a familiar part of their family life, strange as it might sound to anyone outside of it.
As a result, they had all learned to adapt. They paid attention to one another's behavior and grew accustomed to noticing when one of their siblings began acting differently.
Lt. Steel, who had been standing tensely beside Ben, finally broke the silence.
"Be careful, Ben!" he warned, his entire body rigid as he kept his attention fixed on Evan. "He is the culprit responsible for the massacre of New York!"
"What!?" Ben shouted.
The accusation caught him completely off guard. He immediately looked back at Evan, searching his face for some indication that Lt. Steel was wrong.
The massacre of New York?
Evan was responsible for that?
Ben couldn't make sense of it. The person sitting on the throne looked like someone he should know, someone important enough that the absence of his memories was beginning to feel unbearable. Yet Lt. Steel was calling him a mass murderer, and Ben had no idea what he was supposed to believe.
"Heh?" Even Evan seemed confused.
For a brief moment, the confident expression on his face disappeared, replaced by a completely dumbfounded look.
Then, just as quickly, his expression changed.
The confusion faded, and an amused smile slowly spread across his face. The corners of his mouth curled upward until that familiar, unsettling smirk returned.
"Oh?" Evan tilted his head slightly, his violet-gold eyes resting on Lt. Steel. "Then what are you going to do about it?"
As he spoke, the ominous blue flames surrounding him began to grow stronger.
The fire flickered around the base of his throne, spreading across the barren ground and casting an eerie glow over his figure. Its light danced against his ragged coat and white shirt, making his relaxed posture seem all the more unsettling.
"He- wait, what?" Lt. Steel paused.
He quickly turned his head back toward Evan, his expression shifting from stern determination to sheer bewilderment.
Something was wrong with this script.
Wasn't he supposed to deny the accusation?
When someone accused you of committing a crime you hadn't committed, the usual response was to argue, explain yourself, or at least question the accusation.
So why had he accepted it so easily?
And why did he look as though he was having fun?
For a moment, the man could only stare at Evan, trying to figure out whether he was deliberately provoking them or if something even stranger was going on.
"Evan... you didn't... did you?" Ben asked.
His voice was quieter now, and his uncertainty was becoming increasingly difficult to hide. He raised his right hand to his head, pressing it against his temple as another wave of pain hammered through his skull.
He tried to remember.
He needed to remember.
Ever Gold.
The name had surfaced in his mind before, and now, with Evan sitting right in front of him, it felt more important than ever.
But every time Ben tried to reach for it, the pain intensified.
His thoughts became tangled, and the fragments he was trying to grasp seemed to slip away before he could put them together. The harder he pushed himself to remember Ever Gold, the worse his headache became.
Ben clenched his teeth, struggling to keep his attention on Evan despite the growing discomfort.
Evan didn't answer. He merely sat there, his smirk never leaving his face.
The blue flames burning across the ground began to spread toward his feet. At first, they moved slowly, crawling across the barren surface until they reached the base of the throne. Then the fire surged upward, climbing from his feet and racing along his body.
The flames moved like a fire spreading from one patch of grass to another, leaping from place to place until Evan was surrounded by the eerie blue glow.
Yet his clothes remained untouched, and he showed no sign of discomfort. He didn't even bother to move from his relaxed position on the throne.
The flames simply continued to rise around him, adding to the already ominous atmosphere.
It was an unnecessarily dramatic display. A ridiculous one, even. And somehow, that only made him look more like a villain.
Orfevre watched the entire performance with narrowed eyes. Her expression slowly twisted into one of irritation.
"That punchable face..." she murmured beneath her breath.
The surrounding wasteland began to shift.
The barren ground beneath them changed first, the rough terrain transforming as the landscape stretched outward. The ominous blue flames flickered, and the desolate scenery gradually gave way to something far more familiar.
Before long, the wasteland had disappeared completely. In its place stood the center of New York City.
Tall buildings towered over the streets, their windows reflecting the light from the sky above. Vehicles filled the roads, and civilians moved about their day, seemingly unaware of the danger that was about to unfold around them.
Evan, who had remained seated on his stone throne throughout the transformation, finally stood up.
He looked out over the city before raising both hands. The golden Omnitrix on his left wrist responded immediately, projecting a golden holographic interface above its dial.
Without hesitation, Evan pressed it down.
Golden light exploded outward, engulfing his entire body.
For a brief moment, his figure disappeared behind the brilliant glow. Then, as the light began to fade, a familiar silhouette emerged from within it.
The person standing in Evan's place looked almost exactly like him. The same build, the same general features, and the same familiar presence.
There were only two noticeable differences. His hair was snow-white, and his eyes were a bright, striking blue.
"Vigil."
He announced the name with confidence.
Then he spread both arms wide.
A burst of demonic energy erupted from his body, sending a wave of power through the surrounding area. His silhouette distorted as his form began to change again, growing taller as his body transformed into something far less human.
The figure that emerged was a towering humanoid demon.
He wore a fancy crimson suit that looked almost absurdly elegant for a creature of his appearance, along with a long black top hat that completed his unusual outfit. His entire face was covered by a black mask, its surface bearing a sinister smile and a pair of eyes that gave him an unsettling, almost theatrical appearance.
Long horns extended from his head, adding to his demonic silhouette.
Then, with a powerful movement, large black wings spread out from his back.
The blue flames surrounding him immediately surged outward, spreading across the streets and reaching toward the nearby buildings. Black feathers began falling from his wings, drifting through the air before disappearing into the growing sea of blue fire.
Despite his transformation, the golden Omnitrix remained neatly concealed beneath the sleeve of his left wrist.
Vigil stood in the middle of the city, his demonic smile never fading.
Ben, meanwhile, was having a much harder time keeping up with what was happening.
His head was still pounding, and the more he tried to make sense of his jumbled memories, the more confusing everything became. There were too many questions, too many missing pieces, and too much pain to think clearly.
Ben couldn't afford to keep standing around wondering about it. Whatever the answers were, he could figure them out later. For now, he had a villain in front of him.
Raising his right hand, Ben slammed it down hard on the Omnitrix.
A burst of green light erupted from his body, briefly illuminating the surrounding streets before fading away.
Standing in his place was a muscular, red-skinned alien with four powerful arms.
Four Arms rolled his shoulders and glared at Vigil, his four fists tightening as he prepared for a fight.
"You're messing with the wrong kid, Edge Lord!" He pointed directly at the demonic figure, making his displeasure perfectly clear.
Without waiting for a response, Four Arms charged forward.
His heavy footsteps echoed through the streets as he rushed toward Vigil, each step carrying the weight of his massive body. He wasn't interested in listening to whatever ridiculous speech the demon might have prepared. If this guy wanted to act like a villain, then Ben would treat him like one.
Vigil, however, didn't seem particularly impressed. He simply flapped his wings once and rose into the air, effortlessly escaping Four Arms's charge.
Four Arms looked up, but by then, Vigil had already spread his arms wide.
The black feathers covering his wings began to detach themselves, shooting outward before changing direction in midair. Like homing missiles, they adjusted their trajectories and rushed toward Four Arms from multiple angles.
Four Arms barely spared them a glance. He had taken plenty of hits before, and a few feathers weren't going to scare him. Rather than slow down or change direction, he leaped forward, intending to endure the attack and crash straight into Vigil.
Just as the black feathers approached, they suddenly burst into blue flames. The fire struck Four Arms head-on, engulfing him in a sudden wave of heat and energy.
"Gah!" He clenched his teeth as the attack slammed into him.
The pain forced his expression to tighten, but he refused to stop moving. Even as the flames struck his body, he continued pushing forward, relying on the momentum of his charge to carry him toward Vigil.
The half-devil shifted his position in the air at the last moment, moving just enough to let Four Arms fly past him.
Four Arms's eyes widened as he realized his target was no longer in front of him. And directly ahead of him was a school bus filled with children.
For a split second, Four Arms could see the driver gripping the steering wheel, his face frozen in terror. The children inside stared at the enormous alien hurtling toward them, their frightened expressions making it painfully clear that they had no idea what to do.
With barely any time to react, he twisted his body in midair. His fingers reached out and dug into the bus's metal frame, catching hold of it just long enough to change his trajectory.
The sudden shift threw his body sideways. Instead of crashing directly into the bus, Four Arms pushed himself away from it and slammed into the ground.
The impact sent dust scattering across the road, but he barely noticed. His attention remained fixed on the bus, making sure it hadn't overturned during his desperate maneuver.
The vehicle came to an abrupt stop, its tires screeching against the pavement.
Four Arms quickly pushed himself back to his feet.
"Sorry," he said, glancing toward the bus before turning his attention back to the fight.
He didn't have time to check whether everyone was all right. Another wave of black feathers was already heading straight toward him.
Four Arms's expression changed. He immediately leaped away, trying to avoid being caught in another direct hit. But the feathers weren't aimed at him alone. They continued forward, striking the school bus before he could do anything to stop them.
The attack tore through the vehicle's metal frame with terrifying ease. Windows shattered, and the side of the bus was ripped apart as the black feathers pierced through it.
The sound of tearing metal filled the street. Then came the screams. The frightened cries of the children inside mixed with the awful noise of the bus being torn open. Four Arms landed a short distance away, turning toward the vehicle just as the attack came to an end.
And then, suddenly, everything went quiet.
Four Arms froze. His four eyes widened as he stared at the wreckage. The bus that had been carrying a group of children only moments ago was now little more than a ruined shell, its damaged frame riddled with holes.
Crimson blood began leaking through the gaps left by the black feathers.
Four Arms couldn't move. He had spent the entire fight focusing on Vigil, assuming that the demon would direct his attacks toward him. Even when he had realized that the bus was in danger, he had managed to avoid hitting it himself.
But he hadn't considered that Vigil would deliberately target the people inside.
He hadn't even thought to look for another attack.
"Pay attention to your surroundings next time, Ben." Vigil's demonic voice echoed through the city, calm and almost conversational. "Not all villains are single-minded and would just go after your Omnitrix."
Four Arms didn't answer. His fists slowly tightened, each of his four hands curling into a tight fist as he continued staring at the destroyed bus.
The anger building inside him was no longer just about being attacked or mocked. It was about what had happened to those children. People who had nothing to do with their fight had been caught in the middle of it, and Vigil had treated their lives as though they meant absolutely nothing.
Slowly, Four Arms turned back toward him. His expression had changed completely.
"Damn you. You'll pay for that!" He spoke through gritted teeth before charging forward again.
This time, he wasn't holding back.
The rage and anger from what he had just witnessed pushed him to move faster than before. His heavy footsteps thundered against the pavement as he launched himself toward Vigil, his four arms ready to strike.
Vigil's demonic smile never left his face. He didn't even try to avoid the charge.
Four Arms crashed into him, and the force of their collision sent both figures flying through the air. They smashed into a nearby building, the impact shaking the entire structure as debris scattered from the point of collision.
Four Arms managed to pin Vigil against the wall.
His upper pair of arms held the demon in place while his lower pair drew back, both sets of fists ready to unleash a barrage of punches.
"Not bad. I barely felt that." Vigil's voice carried the same casual amusement as before.
Four Arms barely had time to react.
Blue flames suddenly burst from Vigil's entire body, spreading across his crimson suit and black wings.
"Gahhh!"
Four Arms immediately released him and stumbled backward, forced to put some distance between them.
He stared at Vigil in surprise. Those flames had actually hurt him.
He was used to taking hits. His body was built for close combat, and he had always relied on his strength and durability to overwhelm his opponents. But the blue fire had burned through that confidence far more easily than he had expected.
Vigil pulled himself away from the damaged wall, floating back into the air.
The flames coating his body slowly peeled away, leaving him standing in the air as though nothing had happened. His demonic smile remained fixed in place, and his attention never left Four Arms.
"You should take this more seriously, hero. Remember, lives are at risk here."
Four Arms stared at him.
"Oh, yeah?" he snapped, irritation creeping into his voice. "Then just wait until I get my hands on you. We'll see how you're laughing then."
He was already angry, and Vigil's constant lecturing was only making things worse. The demon was standing there, using the same kind of power Ben possessed, yet choosing to use it to hurt innocent people. And somehow, he had the nerve to lecture Ben about protecting them.
"Still need me to prove a point?" Vigil asked.
The black feathers on his back began detaching themselves once more. They circled around him, drifting through the air in an ominous formation as the blue flames flickered beneath his wings.
"How about this?"
In the next instant, the storm of black feathers exploded outward.
They flew in every direction, striking the streets, the surrounding buildings, and anything else unfortunate enough to stand in their path. The feathers moved too quickly for Four Arms to track them all, forcing him to react on instinct.
He crossed all four arms in front of his body, bracing himself as the attack struck. The feathers cut into him, and the force behind the barrage pushed him backward. He dug his feet into the ground, struggling to hold his position as the relentless attack continued.
But he couldn't protect everyone.
More screams echoed throughout New York.
Four Arms looked past his raised arms and saw civilians running through the streets in a panic. Some were injured and struggling to move, while others desperately tried to escape the flying feathers. Fear was written across their faces as they stumbled over one another, searching for somewhere safe.
The very same black feathers that had struck Four Arms were now embedded in the bodies of innocent people.
And Vigil was still smiling.
Four Arms's anger grew even stronger. He couldn't stand there and let this continue. With a powerful push against the ground, he launched himself forward like a missile, rushing straight toward the demon.
"Cut that out!"
He shouted as he drew all four fists back, preparing to unleash everything he had into a single attack.
Vigil moved first. He flew toward Four Arms, closing the distance between them with startling speed. The wings on his back, which had appeared to lose their feathers during the previous attack, had already fully regrown.
Before Four Arms could land a punch, Vigil's demonic claws reached out and grabbed his face.
Four Arms's eyes widened.
The demon's momentum carried them both downward, and Vigil slammed him hard into the ground. The impact shattered the surface beneath Four Arms, leaving the red-skinned alien pinned beneath his opponent's grip.
For a moment, Four Arms could only stare up at Vigil in shock. He had charged forward expecting to land a decisive blow. Instead, he had been caught in the middle of his own attack and brought crashing down before he could even react.
Vigil leaned over him, his demonic smile still firmly in place.
"Anger is a source of power, but letting it decide your actions is a weakness."
Four Arms struggled beneath his grip, trying to force the demon's hand away from his face. But Vigil didn't give him the chance. He raised his free hand and snapped his fingers. The black feathers scattered throughout the city suddenly burst into blue flames.
A painful scream rang across New York.
The feathers ignited wherever they had landed, and the blue fire rapidly spread to nearby vehicles and buildings. Flames climbed across the streets, engulfing everything in their path as the first explosions erupted throughout the city.
Then came another, and another. The explosions grew into a massive chain reaction, spreading across the surrounding area and filling the city with a deafening roar.
"NOOOO!!"
Four Arms screamed.
He struggled desperately beneath Vigil's grip, all four arms pushing and pulling as he tried to free himself. His powerful punches slammed repeatedly against the demon's hand, each blow carrying enough force to make the ground beneath him shake.
But he couldn't break free. The impacts cracked the bones in his hands, yet he didn't care. Every time he tried to fight back, his injuries flared, as he found himself trapped in the same helpless position.
He couldn't reach Vigil. He couldn't stop the flames. And he couldn't save the people screaming around him.
Four Arms turned his head as much as Vigil's grip allowed, desperately searching the burning streets.
He saw Lt. Steel and his men caught in the blue flames, their figures completely engulfed by the fire.
His eyes continued searching through the destruction, looking for Max, Gwen, Orfevre, and Gold Ship. He tried to find any sign of his family among the burning buildings and the sea of ominous blue flames, but he couldn't see them anywhere.
Were they safe?
Had they escaped?
Or had the flames swallowed them up as well?
Ben didn't know.
Despite Lt. Steel's claims that his family were imposters, Ben still hadn't fully believed him. Something about the situation had never felt right, and the more he tried to make sense of it, the less certain he became.
Now, he couldn't even tell whether the people he cared about were alive.
His struggles gradually weakened.
The anger that had driven him forward was still there, but it was being overwhelmed by the helplessness of his situation. He had rushed into battle believing that he could defeat Vigil, only to watch the city fall apart around him.
And there was nothing he could do to stop it.
As Four Arms lay trapped beneath the demon's grip, time itself seemed to accelerate around him. The screams and explosions that had filled the city began to fade, replaced by the quieter, more distant sound of burning.
The chaos seemed to move farther away with every passing moment. Yet the destruction remained.
Vigil finally released his grip on Four Arms's face.
A burst of red light enveloped the alien's body, and his massive form began to shrink. His four arms disappeared as his red skin returned to its normal human color, leaving Ben lying on the ground in his original form.
He stared up at the dark sky. An ominous blue glow illuminated the clouds above him, casting an eerie light over the ruined city. The fires continued to burn around him, but Ben barely seemed to notice them anymore.
His eyes were filled with tears.
He had lost.
He had rushed into the fight without thinking, allowed his anger to control his actions, and failed to stop Vigil from destroying everything around him.
Ben couldn't even bring himself to sit up.
Vigil, meanwhile, tapped the dial on his left wrist.
The transformation reversed in an instant, and the towering demon disappeared in a burst of light. When it faded, Evan was standing in his place once again, looking down at Ben.
The blue flames surrounding them finally began to disappear.
As the last of the fire faded away, the remains of New York City came into view. The once-bustling city had been reduced to ruins, its streets and buildings left as reminders of the destruction that had taken place.
Thousands of people had lived here.
Now, the city was silent.
Evan looked down at Ben, watching as the boy slowly began to push himself up from the ground. Ben's movements were sluggish, and he seemed to struggle with the simple act of lifting his own body.
Once he managed to sit up, he looked around. His gaze moved across the ruined streets, the damaged buildings, and the destruction stretching as far as he could see.
His hands began to tremble.
"It's not the failures in our life that define us; it's the moments when we decide that getting back up is all that matters."
Evan's words broke through the silence.
Ben didn't respond. He continued staring at the destruction around him, his expression growing more strained as the reality of what he had witnessed settled over him.
Slowly, his hands clenched around the dirt beneath him.
His entire body was shaking, and his breathing became increasingly uneven. He tried to steady himself, but the tears gathering in his eyes refused to stop.
He had seen what happened when he failed.
He had seen what could happen when the Omnitrix fell into the wrong hands.
And he had been powerless to stop it.
You are my Special!
A song suddenly began playing from nowhere.
The words rang out over the ruined city, repeating themselves as though they belonged to some distant soundtrack accompanying the scene.
But Ben didn't care.
He barely seemed to notice the music at all. His attention remained fixed on the destruction around him, and the tears finally began to fall, running down his face before dropping onto the ground beneath him.
You are my Special!
The song continued.
Ben remained where he was, trembling as he tried to process what he had just experienced. He had wanted to defeat Vigil, to stop him from hurting anyone else, but his own mistakes and weaknesses had left him unable to do either.
And because of it, he got to witness what could happen if he failed.
Evan turned away from him and began walking toward the stone throne.
Somehow, it had remained standing amid the ruins, untouched by the destruction surrounding it. His footsteps echoed through the otherwise silent wasteland as his long coat swayed in the hot wind.
He continued walking until he reached the throne. Then he turned around.
Ben was still on the ground, his head lowered as he struggled to collect himself. Evan watched him for a moment before sitting down, casually swinging one leg over the other.
He placed his left elbow on the stone armrest and leaned his head against his left hand, settling into the same relaxed posture he had adopted before.
Then Evan slowly closed his eyes.
And at that very moment, Ben disappeared from this world. His body began to fade away, vanishing from the ruined city until there was nothing left where he had been sitting.
...
Back in the real world, Ben's eyes burst open. Scientists in Forever Knights uniforms were trying to remove his Omnitrix.
Reacting on instinct, he kicked them hard, knocking them down, then quickly got to his feet, a tear glistening in the corner of his eye. He slammed down on his Omnitrix and transformed into XLR8.
XLR8 raced around the room, knocking out the scientists as Enoch drew an energy sword from his gauntlet.
XLR8 sped forward and kicked Enoch rapidly in the chest, knocking the energy sword from his grip. He then kicked Enoch into the machine he had been lying on moments earlier and hurriedly strapped him into it.
"Time to go nighty-night, Enoch!" XLR8 taunted, masking the emotions he'd felt in the dream as he started up the machine.
---
AN: I was planning to cut off some part of the next chapter because this is a bit long, but I couldn't find the right moment to make the cut, or decide on which part without ruining the mood. So yeah, long chapter today.