The fleet slipped through the void like a silent storm. Warships forged from quintuple-alloy metals glided in tight formation, their hulls glowing faintly with emerald reactor light. In the center of the armada, dominating everything around it, was Vilgax's flagship—The Dreadnought Sovereign, a colossal fortress-ship capable of razing continents.
Khoral-9 appeared ahead, a scarred, dying world suspended in the darkness. Even from orbit, its surface radiated danger. Cracked continents, rivers of molten obsidian, black smoke drifting endlessly from deep fissures—it looked less like a planet and more like the preserved corpse of a titan.
Inside the bridge, Vilgax studied the rotating holographic projection of Khoral-9, its core represented by a pulsing white dot—the relic vault, hidden beneath layers of unstable space-time fractures.
General Draax approached with a report. "My lord, planetary scans confirm your hypothesis. There is a dimensional anomaly below the crust. Something is bending local physics."
Vilgax's crimson eyes flickered with interest. "Good. If the environment remained stable, it would mean the relic was worthless."
The generals exchanged uneasy glances. To them, a stable vault was a blessing. To Vilgax, instability meant untapped power.
He stepped forward as the scanners displayed new data.
DIMENSIONAL COMMOTION: CLASS-6
GRAVITY SHEAR: UNPREDICTABLE
TEMPORAL DISTORTION: MINOR PULSE
MATERIAL INTEGRITY: 32%
General Skarn frowned. "A normal retrieval attempt would fail instantly. Even armored squads would collapse under the dimensional pressure."
"That is why we are not using organics," Vilgax said, lifting his hand.
The hologram shifted. Five sleek, terrifying machines hovered into view—the Astra-Null Retrieval Units, now fully assembled. Each drone resembled a spearhead forged from liquid metal, with spherical stabilizer cores ringing their midsection. Energy fields shimmered around their forms.
"Activate drone bay seven," Vilgax commanded.
An engineer at the lower deck saluted. "Drone bay seven opening!"
On the external screen, the great metallic bay doors peeled open like the jaw of a mechanical beast. The Astra-Null drones floated inside, humming with contained energy.
General Draax looked to Vilgax. "My lord, if these relics are truly of Pre-Celestialsapien origin… what exactly are you expecting to find?"
Vilgax clasped his hands behind his back. "Artifacts of pure conceptual energy. Crystallized fragments of creation itself. Remnants from battles that shaped the laws of physics."
He paused.
"Even a small shard could power a fleet for centuries. But I am not looking for energy alone."
His generals waited for more.
"I seek knowledge," Vilgax finished. "Knowledge of higher-dimensional warfare. Knowledge to counter beings far beyond material existence."
While the generals processed this, Vilgax's mind raced far deeper. His transmigrated intelligence had already mapped dozens of theoretical uses for such relics—dimensional stabilizers, wormhole manipulation, adaptive armor infused with temporal resistance, even direct integration with Omnitrix energy once the device was in his grasp.
The relic core of Khoral-9 was only a beginning.
"Begin drone deployment," Vilgax ordered.
As the command resonated through the ship, the lights dimmed. Energy conduits glowed with power. One by one, the Astra-Null units drifted forward, then burst out of the bay in streaks of silvery light.
"Tracking drones," an operator said.
The bridge screens split into five windows, each showing a drone's perspective as it descended through the atmosphere. Lightning crackled around them as Khoral-9's violent storms attempted to tear them apart, but their stabilizers held firm.
They plunged into darkness.
Seconds felt long.
Then—impact.
The drones pierced the crust, pushing through layers of broken rock, corrupted sediment, and fields of floating debris suspended in strange gravity pockets.
Vilgax's enhanced mind tracked each distortion with ease, analyzing patterns that even supercomputers would require hours to process.
Drone 1: Entering localized bubble of temporal suspension… Duration halted within bubble... Nullifying…
Drone 2: Gravitational spin detected… Stabilizing plates adjusting…
Drone 3: Dimensional rift detected… Anchoring…
Drone 4: High-energy pulse emanating from relic core…
Drone 5: Approaching central vault…
General Skarn gripped the railing. "This is madness even by our standards…"
"It is brilliance," Vilgax corrected coolly.
Then suddenly—
Drone 3's feed went black.
A ripple of distortion spread across all screens.
"Drone 3 lost!" the operator shouted.
Vilgax narrowed his eyes. "Expected."
Drone 3 had entered the unstable rift too early. It served its purpose—mapping danger.
Drone 4's stabilizers flared, its form bending slightly as if being pulled into a different angle of reality. But it pushed through.
Drone 5 broke through the final layer.
A pulse lit the screen—bright, blue, and impossibly ancient.
The chamber fell silent.
General Draax whispered, "Is that… the vault?"
A structure emerged on the screen, half fused with rock, half floating in midair. It resembled an enormous geometric sphere made of intersecting metallic arcs, each shimmering with runes older than the galaxy. The space around it twisted subtly, as if refusing to settle into one shape.
Drone 5 slowly approached.
Vilgax stepped closer, absorbing every detail. "Pre-Celestialsapien architecture… magnificent."
The drone extended its retrieval arm.
A resonance wave shot outward—
BWUMMMMM
—and suddenly the chamber shook.
"Dimensional surge detected!" an officer yelled.
Drone 4's feed scrambled.
Drone 1's stabilizers whined loudly.
Drone 5's arm reached the relic.
A crystalline object rested at the sphere's center. It looked like a shard of frozen light, pulsating with a rhythm that felt alive.
"Retrieve it," Vilgax commanded.
Drone 5 grasped the relic.
The world exploded.
A shockwave tore through the vault, collapsing space, folding gravity, twisting light. Drone 4 shattered instantly. Drone 1 spiraled, barely maintaining cohesion. Drone 5 overloaded, its hull melting as it rocketed upward toward the surface.
"Brace for impact!" an officer shouted.
Drone 5 burst from the planet like a shooting star, trailing warped space behind it.
"Catch it with the gravitic net!" Vilgax roared.
The ship deployed a massive gravitational field. Drone 5 slammed into it, sparks flying, its hull cracking—
—but it held.
Against all odds, the drone survived long enough to eject the relic into a containment capsule.
Vilgax exhaled slowly, controlled, victorious.
"Bring it to my lab," he ordered. "Immediately."
His generals stared at him with awe and terror. "My lord… what will you do with such power?"
Vilgax turned toward them, his expression unreadable, his mind already five steps into the future.
"Prepare yourselves," he said. "The era of conquest begins now."
As he spoke, the relic shimmered within its containment case—like a heartbeat pulsing in the dark.
Far away, in the folds between dimensions, something stirred.
And somewhere on Earth… the Omnitrix grew closer to falling.