Chapter 2: Forced to be a Hero
The scent of pine and grilled food hung in the evening air as Klein, Gwen, and Grandpa Max sat around the campfire, picking at their dinner and chatting idly.
"Ben's been gone for a while now," Max noted, a slight furrow in his brow. "Shouldn't he be back?"
"Maybe he got eaten by a bear," Gwen quipped, poking at a charred piece of lamb on her plate. Seeing the look on her grandfather's face, she quickly backpedaled. "I'm kidding! Just a joke. He's probably just sulking in the woods."
"Don't worry, he'll be fine," Klein said, leaning back in his camp chair. "If you're really that concerned, I can go look for him. A little after-dinner stroll sounds nice."
"I'd appreciate that, Klein," Max said, his expression softening with relief. He knew about the Another Omnitrix on Klein's wrist, which made him the most capable search party imaginable.
"Grandpa, I'm back!"
Just as Klein was about to push himself to his feet, a familiar voice called out. Ben emerged from a thicket of bushes nearby, looking completely normal and, to Klein's surprise, completely empty-handed.
Klein's eyes immediately flickered to Ben's left wrist. Nothing. "Huh. Ben, you didn't happen to see anything weird while you were out there, did you? Like a meteor falling or something?"
"A meteor? No, nothing like that," Ben replied, looking confused. "Why do you ask, cousin? I didn't hear anything about a meteor shower."
"Nothing. Maybe I was mistaken," Klein said, a small frown touching his lips.
'No, this can't be right,'he thought, his mind racing.'I didn't do anything. How could the butterfly effect be strong enough to divert a spaceship in orbit? Is the timeline really this fragile? How am I supposed to slack off now?'He sighed internally.'Well, since it's come to this...'
"Let's just eat, Ben," Klein said, his outward expression unreadable. He wasn't panicking—the Another Omnitrix was his ultimate trump card, capable of handling almost any problem. It was just... annoying. The universe seemed determined to force him into the role of a hero.
"No thanks, cousin. I'm not really hungry," Ben said, wrinkling his nose at the sight of the rice worms and lamb tongues on the grill. Gwen, for her part, had already declared herself "full" after eating a few snacks she'd brought from home.
Later that night inside the Rustbucket, Ben and Gwen were engaged in their usual bickering while Grandpa Max fiddled with the radio, trying to find a clear station.
"…kssshhh… static… bzzzt… This is… Help! You're not going to believe this, but I've run into… krrsh… robots!"
The panicked voice cut through the static, and the lighthearted atmosphere in the RV vanished.
"Looks like we might be sleeping late tonight," Max said, his expression turning grim. He didn't hesitate, immediately turning the key in the ignition. The old engine roared to life, and the Rustbucket lurched forward, heading toward the location mentioned in the broadcast.
"Grandpa, even if there really are robots, shouldn't we call the police?" Gwen asked, a tremor of fear in her voice. In her eyes, they were just an old man and three kids. What could they possibly do?
"Robots! Are you kidding, Dork? Don't you want to see them?" Ben shot back, his fear completely eclipsed by excitement. "Besides, that guy was yelling for help! The police would never get there in time!"
"I think your brain is overheated, Dweeb," Gwen retorted. "How are you going to stop a robot? That thing would probably flatten you with one step."
As the cousins'argument escalated, Max glanced into the rearview mirror, his eyes landing on Klein. The older boy wore a serious expression, though in reality, he was just bewildered.'So Ben doesn't get the watch, but we still have to fight monsters? Does that mean my watch is going to get the signal instead?'
BOOM! CRASH!
The Rustbucket screeched to a halt at the edge of a chaotic scene. A massive robot, a grotesque fusion of a crab and a spider, was tearing through the campsite, firing searing orange-red energy beams from its single, central eye. Smaller, saucer-shaped drones zipped through the air around it, adding to the destruction. The area was a ruin of splintered trees and burning tents, filled with the terrified screams of campers.
Ben and Gwen stared, their mouths hanging open in utter shock.
"Whoa… Cool! It really is a robot!" Ben yelled, his voice a mixture of awe and terror.
The giant robot's single eye swiveled, its gaze locking onto the red hourglass symbol of the Another Omnitrix on Klein's wrist. The optic glowed ominously, charging another blast.
"Uh oh," Ben gulped. "Okay, not so cool anymore." He was about to scream for everyone to run, but the beam had already fired.
FWOOSH!
The expected explosion never came. In a flash of brilliant red light, a new figure stood where Klein had been. It was a humanoid creature made of shimmering, pale green crystal, standing as solid and unmovable as a mountain, shielding the others completely.
"Diamondhead!"
The crystalline alien raised one hand, fingers spread wide. The energy beam struck his palm and refracted harmlessly into the air. With a flick of his wrist, Diamondhead fired a volley of razor-sharp crystal shards from his fingertips, channeling the absorbed energy back at the giant robot.
BOOM!
The massive machine erupted in a ball of fire and twisted metal. It was over in an instant.
Seeing their leader obliterated, the smaller drones showed no fear. They swarmed forward, unleashing a barrage of laser fire at Diamondhead.
He didn't even bother to raise a defense. With the casual air of someone taking a stroll, Diamondhead walked right through the energy storm, the beams scattering off his crystalline hide. He grabbed two drones, one in each hand, and crushed them into scrap metal before casually swatting the rest from the sky.
His work done, Diamondhead turned and sprinted into the depths of the forest, vanishing from sight.
Ben and Gwen were still frozen, their jaws practically on the floor. It took several calls from Grandpa Max to snap them out of their stupor, and they quickly scrambled to help him pull the surviving campers from the wreckage.
"Cousin, that was so cool! How did you turn into that awesome crystal guy?!" Ben was practically bouncing off the walls of the Rustbucket, far too excited to even think about sleep.
"Yeah! That crystal person was amazing! And you looked so handsome…" Gwen added, her usual snark replaced with pure admiration. She caught herself and mumbled the last part, her bright eyes fixed on Klein.
"That was an alien, kids," Grandpa Max corrected gently.
"An alien? Grandpa, how do you know that?" Ben and Gwen asked in unison, their curiosity piqued.
"Uh… well, what else could it be?" Max deflected, looking a little guilty.
Ben didn't press the issue, turning his full attention back to Klein. "What's that alien's name? Can I give him a name? How did you transform? Can you turn into other aliens?"
Klein sighed. He knew he wouldn't get a moment's peace otherwise. "He's called Diamondhead. You can call him something else if you want. I transformed using this watch, and yes, it can turn me into others."
"Awesome! Cousin, where'd you get that watch? Can I borrow it?" Ben's eyes were wide with envy, but there was no malice in it—only a boundless, childlike curiosity.
"I bought it at a toy store," Klein lied smoothly. "And don't bother asking which one, the store's gone. Sorry, Ben, but this watch doesn't come off, so I can't lend it to you."
"Oh. Okay, then, never mind," Ben said, only slightly disappointed. "So, what other aliens can you turn into? Is there a fire one? Or a super-strong one?"
"Alright, kids, that's enough questions for one night," Grandpa Max intervened, sensing Klein's patience wearing thin. "Time to sleep. We've got an early start tomorrow."
"Okay, but—" Ben started, but seeing the firm look on his grandpa's face, he reluctantly gave up. A new thought immediately struck him.
"I call the top bunk!" he and Gwen shouted at the exact same time.
"Dork! What does it matter where you sleep?" Ben protested. "Why do you always have to fight me for the top bunk?"
"Because you have athlete's foot, Dweeb!" Gwen shot back instantly. "And I am not sleeping underneath that!"
After another round of arguing, Gwen, as usual, claimed victory and the top bunk.
That left the sleeping arrangements. It's worth mentioning that Klein ended up sharing the top bunk with Gwen, a purely pragmatic decision driven by Ben's notoriously terrible sleeping habits—a whirlwind of flailing limbs and snoring. He had no other thoughts on the matter; he wasn't a creep, especially not with a ten-year-old.
As for whether Gwen had any thoughts on the matter, that remained unknown. But the next morning, Klein couldn't help but notice that his cousin's face was an alarming shade of red.
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