I had a lot of fun with this. So so much fun. Hope you don't hate it. Sorry for the loooong delay.
For advance chapters check out P(a) (t) reon.com/Saintbarbido.
(General P.O.V)
The Rustbucket tore down the highway toward Mount Rushmore, its engine straining as if it understood the urgency better than anyone inside it.
No one spoke.
Ben sat on the bench seat, his foot tapping against the metal floor in an uneven rhythm. His eyes flicked repeatedly to the Omnitrix, then away, as if even looking at it felt dangerous. Gwen sat across from him, hunched forward, biting her nails hard enough to leave marks, her Lucky Girl mask resting in her lap. Grandpa Max gripped the steering wheel with both hands, knuckles pale, posture rigid.
Tetrax sat near the rear of the RV, shoulders slumped, silent and unreadable.
Above them all, Loth floated cross-legged in midair, eyes closed, surrounded by a faint pink aura that pulsed in slow, controlled waves. He appeared calm, but the air around him carried pressure—contained power held deliberately in check.
99% of his focus was on aligning his energies, especially the bridge connecting his soul and new body. A body unlike any other. The 1% was on his surroundings, aura sense fully active around the RV incase of an ambush. Vilgax was relentless. And now after Loth took out his mercernaries, he'd be out for blood. And desperate.
The small television bolted near the front crackled with static before stabilizing.
A news reporter stood in Washington, D.C., voice tight with forced professionalism.
"—confirming reports of unidentified aerial vehicles hovering above major population centers worldwide. Officials are urging citizens to remain calm—"
The camera tilted upward.
The sky above the capital was filled with drones. Thousands of them. Dark and silver-red, angular shapes hanging motionless, blotting out the sun in organized formations.
Ben's tapping stopped."That's not good..."
The broadcast abruptly distorted.
The reporter froze mid-sentence as the screen glitched, then resolved into a towering figure with red cybernetic armor and two red glowing eyes.
Vilgax.
"People of Earth," Vilgax said, his voice calm, heavy, and absolute. He'd set the Universal Translator to maximize intimidation."You possess something that belongs to me."
The image shifted to show drone formations across North America. Then an image of a bulky green-black watch.
"You will surrender the Omnitrix," Vilgax continued, "or your world will be systematically bombarded by one thousand Class Six war drones."
The camera cut to explosions ripping through the outskirts of Washington, D.C.
The feed died.
Silence filled the RV.
Gwen was the first to speak.
"Ben," she said urgently, turning toward him. "You have to give it up. You have to."
Ben snapped back. "No. That's exactly what he wants. Besides, I can't get it off!"
"And what's your plan dweeb?" Gwen shot back. "Let him level cities?"
Before Ben could answer, Tetrax spoke, his voice rough.
"Even if you gave it to him," he said, "Vilgax would still destroy this planet."
Gwen stared at him. "Why?"
"Because he's Vilgax," Tetrax replied flatly. "Power-hungry. Vindictive. And because you humiliated him. His mercenaries are dead. His forces broken. His pride wounded."
Ben scowled. "And why should we trust you? You were working for him."
That was when Loth opened his eyes.
"That," Loth said calmly, drifting down until his feet hovered inches above the floor, "is exactly why you should."
Everyone turned to him.
"Tetrax knows Vilgax's methods," Loth continued. "His strategies. His blind spots. With his help, we don't survive this—we end it. And- he owes me for sparing his life. His kind are honorable that way."
Loth smirked at Ben, "you could learn a lot from him Tennyson."
Grandpa Max nodded slowly. "I'm inclined to agree."
All eyes turned to Loth as he floated down.
"So," Max asked, "what's the plan?"
Loth smiled, thin and deliberate.
"Warlords like Vilgax believe in personal dominance," he said. "When challenged, they don't hide behind armies. They descend personally, to prove superiority."
He glanced toward the windshield, where Mount Rushmore was beginning to rise on the horizon.
"How far?"
"Twenty minutes," Max replied. "Enough time to reach the base."
"Good," Loth said. "Enough time to plan and prepare."
The next few minutes passed quickly.
Loth returned to meditation, aura tightening, stabilizing. He whispered a short prayer—not loud enough for anyone else to hear—to Nike for victory, and to Hecate for clarity and control.
Outside, the mountain loomed closer. Until they finally arrived.
Above Earth's atmosphere, alarms chimed inside a massive command drone.
"Signal reacquired," the ship's AI intoned. "Tetrax of Petropia—confirmed active."
Vilgax leaned forward, a low growl rumbling from his chest.
"So," he said. "You live."
He stood.
"All units," Vilgax commanded. "Converge on this so called Mount Rushmore."
His single eye burned brighter.
"This time," he said, "nothing will stop me from taking what is mine.
Soon after the RV entered the Plumber base through a secret tunnel, the sky above Mount Rushmore turned metallic.
Dark silver-and-red drones, Vilgax's forces, descended in disciplined formations, engines screaming as they cut through cloud cover. State police cruisers skidded to a halt along the access roads, officers spilling out and opening fire with everything they had.
It didn't matter.
Laser fire swept across the mountainside, detonating squad cars and chewing through rock like it was paper. One beam carved cleanly across Abraham Lincoln's face, blasting stone away and leaving a scorched, uneven trench that resembled a twisted moustache. Another strike sent debris raining down the slope, forcing the remaining officers to retreat.
Above it all, Vilgax's fleet continued its descent, unopposed.
Deep inside Mount Rushmore, Grandpa Max led the others, excluding Tetrax, at a brisk pace through a narrow service corridor. The air hummed with dormant machinery.
"This way," Max said, stopping at a recessed wall panel.
He grabbed a heavy metal handle and pulled.
The mountain woke up.
Lights flared to life as entire sections of the wall slid apart, revealing a vast Plumber command center. Holographic displays activated along curved consoles. Weapon racks unfolded from hidden compartments, lined with unfamiliar alien tech. Beyond the command level, a massive cavern opened up, housing several alien spacecraft suspended on mag-clamps.
Ben's jaw dropped. "No way…"
He took a step toward one of the smaller fighters.
A red laser grid snapped on instantly, forcing him to stumble back.
"Still so impatient, my going Padawan." Loth remarked calmly.
He reached for his hip and tossed a silver ball to Ben. Tetrax's hoverboard clattered into his hands.
"A gift or a loan depending on your performance." Loth said. "Try not to scratch it."
Ben blinked, unfolding the hoverboard. "You're serious?"
Loth simply winked.
Max was already moving toward the central console. "I don't have full clearance here," he said, fingers flying across the controls. "But with Gwen's help, or her luck, we might access the archive. Don't worry the computer is magic proofed, go wild Lucky Girl."
Gwen stepped beside him, eyes already glowing faintly as she wore her mask. Using her luck, they were able to bypass the 6 digit password by a lucky guess.
"We're looking for something specific," Max continued now inside. "An interdimensional device. A watch. Prototype. Built by a honorary Plumber named Paradox."
Loth's head snapped up. "Paradox," he repeated quietly.
That changed things.
Before anyone could ask, the entire base shook violently. Dust rained from the ceiling as explosions thundered above.
Loth closed his eyes for half a second, aura expanding outward.
"Speak of the devil," he said grimly, "or alien. Tentacle beard just punched through the front door."
He turned toward Ben. "Let's move, Tennyson."
They sprinted down the corridor as warning klaxons blared.
Halfway through, Ben slapped the Omnitrix.
"XLR8!"
Blue light flashed.
The world sharpened as XLR8 burst forward—
—and immediately skidded as Loth's hand clamped onto his shoulder.
"What are you—"
Loth didn't answer. He absorbed. His body flared with pink light as his Osmosian physiology adapted. DNA patterns overlaid, merged, and synchronized.
The hallway slowed.
Loth's perception expanded as his feet reshaped into sleek, wheel-like structures. He didn't fully transform—but enough.
XLR8 stared. "Dude. That's cheating."
"No time." Loth replied. "Tetrax is losing."
Pink lightning cracked around Loth as he leaned forward.
"Keep up."
He launched. Moving far faster than he'd ever imagined possible.
The corridor became a blur of reinforced walls and warning lights as the two of them tore through the base, Loth using Aura Sense to track a familiar crystalline signature ahead—fractured, weakening.
They burst into the main hangar.
A massive hole yawned open in the mountain wall, sunset light pouring in. Smoke and debris littered the floor.
At the center of it all, Vilgax held Tetrax by the neck.
Tetrax's armor was shattered. Cracks ran through his crystalline body, light leaking from the fractures. Around them lay the destroyed remains of Vilgax's robots—evidence that Tetrax hadn't gone down easily.
Vilgax lifted him higher. "Where is the Omnitrix?"
Tetrax spat in his face. "Fuck off. I never liked you."
Vilgax laughed. "The feeling was mutual."
A red energy blade snapped into place along Vilgax's forearm.
Then two blurs slammed into the chamber.
XLR8 tore Tetrax free, skidding across the floor with him, while Loth hurled a fistful of stones mid-stride. The rocks reshaped in flight, transfiguring into grenades that detonated against Vilgax's chest, blasting him backward through smoke and debris.
XLR8 skidded to a stop. "Uh—Loth? He looks really bad."
"You're a hero," Loth said, stepping forward. "So save him."
"How?"
"Run."
XLR8 hesitated for a fraction of a second, then nodded and took off, carrying Tetrax deeper into the base. To Grandpa Max. He always knew what to do.
Two red beams cut through the smoke toward Xlr8.
In a blur, Loth intercepted the beams with a raised hand. The energy vanished into his palm, absorbed and dispersed through his Osmosian body.
The dust cleared.
Vilgax rose to his full height—over eight feet tall. His alien flesh was interwoven with heavy cybernetics. One arm ended in a glowing blade. His eyes burned with red thermal energy.
He looked at Loth and smiled.
"So," Vilgax said. "You're the Class Eight anomaly. I commend your efforts boy, but I shall have what is mine."
Loth rolled his shoulders, pink aura flaring brighter. "The Omnitrix was never yours Tentacle face. And in Tetrax's wise words, Fuck off."
Vilgax laughed and raised his arm.
Hundreds of drones poured through the breach, weapons priming in unison.
"Kill him," Vilgax commanded. "And bring me the watch."
Loth's grin widened.
"Good," he said quietly. "I've been meaning to see what this body can really do."