"Don't worry, sweetheart. The fire can't reach us from here." The middle-aged woman hugged her son tighter, her trembling hands cradling him close.
Her husband shouted into his phone, his voice straining the microphone. "I don't know how far the fire spread! JUST DO YOUR JOB AND SEND HELP ALREADY!"
He hung up.
Although all campsites were located in the forest, the clear footpaths and barren earth roads between them served as natural firebreaks. Flames could still spread through greenery or airborne embers, but escape remained possible and relatively easy. Only those deep in the woods, oblivious to the danger, faced true peril.
Like he had been.
A sharp pain lanced through his face. He reapplied the ice bag to ease the burning, barely hiding the scorch mark running across his skin.
"Let's leave. The kid is traumatized." He glared at his wife and child with annoyance. The child's crying intensified at the sight of his father's face. 'What a shitty first day of vacation.'
"Yes—Look!" His wife pointed above the flaming landscape.
"What?" He scanned the night sky. The stars still glittered and the moon hung normally… but something was wrong. Everything looked unnaturally red.
Shadows descended through the crimson night, their approach marked by a distorted hum. The father barely registered the sound before crimson projectiles tore through his chest. He crumpled mid-breath, the ice bag tumbling from his fingers as his wife and child screamed.
Their screams didn't last long. More shots pierced the night.
Throughout all the campsites in the forest, similar events were happening.
__________________
Psyphon's fingers danced across his arm screen, absorbed in an Earth-downloaded 2D game. Even absolute devotion to Vilgax couldn't completely suppress moments of… boredom, and hearing screams had become increasingly repetitive over the years.
A notification pinged: another drone destroyed. He dismissed it with a casual swipe, his attention fixed on the more engaging pixelated carnage before him. At least the game offered novel ways of destruction.
In a battle between hundreds of massive drones and robots armed with lasers, electric weapons, and blades versus hundreds of mostly unarmed humans, which side emerges victorious? Time, because of the shortened lifespan for asking and answering such a stupid question.
Why even bother with full surveillance? The notifications sufficed.
His screen flickered with updates. '149 confirmed human casualties.' The number pulsed steadily, a digital heartbeat counting extinguished lives. 'Thermal sensors compromised by fire interference. Actual survivors: unknown.'
The thought surfaced unsolicited: 'Why not simply capture the Omnitrix bearer and obliterate the forest?'
Clean. Efficient.
But Vilgax's orders echoed in his mind, each word carved with precision:
__________________
"Leave our thief free long enough to understand the consequences of stealing what's mine. Let them know every death is the price of their defiance."
__________________
More notifications flooded his screen. Another drone destroyed. Then another. And another. A third of his forces—gone.
Growing frustrated, he closed the game, studying the pattern of destruction. The recent locations weren't random anymore—they formed a path. Straight toward him.
'Does it mean...?' Psyphon activated the Omnitrix tracer. Through the burning trees emerged the human still transformed in Pyronite, its flame-wreathed form distorting the air around it. 'Too primitive to even check for buttons…'
"I surrender! I will give you the Omnitrix. Please, just stop this madness!" The creature raised its arms, approaching slowly.
"You should have followed orders, monkey!" Psyphon's fingers danced across his gauntlet screen, but something felt… wrong. "These deaths are your burden."
The transformed human kept walking closer. Something about those burning eye sockets made Psyphon's skin crawl. The flames seemed to move… incorrectly.
"Stop!" Psyphon's gauntlet hummed, laser targeting the creature's head. The targeting system flickered, unable to maintain a lock. 'It malfunction, now?!'
"Easy, dude. What can I do against you, your machines, or Vilgax?"
That tone. That look. Psyphon had seen it before—in Vilgax's eyes, moments before entire worlds burned.
"What are you plotting?"
"Nothing. Do you want to keep your master waiting?
Psyphon suppressed a shudder. Ideally, he would complete the massacre first. But with the target already here, refusing to capture him would be foolish. Besides, the human would be fair game the second the Omnitrix was extracted—not that he knew that obviously.
The servant pressed several buttons on his gauntlet. A white circle materialized nearby. "Walk in. Don't try anything funny inside."
Silence stretched between them, heavy and unsettling.
"I see." The voice trembled appropriately for an inferior being, yet the Pyronite's flames flickered in a way that almost looked like a smile.
Psyphon followed the being into the teleportation circle. White light enveloped them both, reality bending around their forms.
Moments later, drones and biods efficiently escorted the human to the extraction chamber. Vilgax's ship hummed with mechanical precision, populated by countless robotic servants. Only three living beings occupied its vast corridors: Ben, Psyphon, and Vilgax himself.
The Omnitrix separation process went smoothly—severing both soul and DNA links from its host. The human's value expired with that final connection.
"Nothing personal," Psyphon raised his weapon with practiced efficiency. "Your life or death doesn't matter, but I would rather see you dead for wasting my time." The plasma bolt struck true, leaving a cauterized hole through the human's skull. "You should have entertained Vilgax better, human."
Human…
Human?
What had they looked like? Male? Female? Young? Old? The details slipped away like water, leaving only a vague shadow where memory should be—a blurred outline of a humanoid form. But that was normal, wasn't it? All humans looked the same eventually.
The chamber door parted with an organic hiss. Vilgax entered—towering, overwhelming, his tentacled face set in its eternal scowl. Black armor gleamed under the pulsing lights, green skin unmarred by injury or weakness.
Psyphon's breath caught in his throat. His master, walking again? After what left him in critical condition… It seemed impossible, yet here he stood.
"M-Master?!" The servant dropped to his knees, his mind still struggling to process the miracle before him. "You are no longer—"
"Thank you, Psyphon. You managed well while I was in recovery…" Each word carried the weight of authority Psyphon remembered, without a trace of weakness as Vilgax approached the Omnitrix, then attached it to his bulky wrist.
Soon it adapted to his size, the metal bands expanding smoothly to accommodate his bulk. Vilgax then turned the dial in a precise sequence of movements before slamming it down.
A sound like rushing blood filled the chamber. Bestial roars erupted as every biodroid shifted into living flame, casting wild shadows across the walls.
"The greatest army in the universe!" Vilgax's voice rose with dark triumph. "An army that can change power, ability and shape at will with the Omnitrix. As long as we produce more and more Bioids, I might… no, I WILL BE INVINCIBLE! The universe will kneel before me!"
Tears welled in Psyphon's eyes as pure joy filled his chest. The Omnitrix—his master's greatest desire, finally achieved. Each victory of Vilgax was Psyphon's own triumph, each dream realized his own completion.
His master's eyes turned to him, and in that moment, Psyphon's world shattered.
"And there is no place in this universe for a servant who cannot follow orders!" The words carried centuries of conquered worlds in their weight. "I said, 'Leave our thief free long enough to understand the consequences of stealing what's mine.' Let them know every death is the price of their defiance.' So why did you capture them before they understood the consequences? You useless servant!"
The bioids advanced, transformed into Pyronites. Psyphon fell to his knees.
"Master, I'm sorry—" The words died in his throat as fire consumed him. His pale skin blackened and cracked, flesh peeling away until only charred bone remained. Through it all, Psyphon could only think of his failure.
In the end, he was useless.
Psyphon woke up.
A distorted voice cut through the silence, emanating from a featureless, mirror-like being floating before him. The only indication of its identity was the Omnitrix symbol on its head. "Fascinating how the mind works… creating its own nightmares when given just a little push."
Psyphon's breath came in ragged gasps. The memory of burning flesh—his burning flesh—lingered like a phantom pain. His eyes darted around, searching for flames that weren't there. The forest around them seemed peaceful and untouched.
The servant's bloodshot eyes fixed on the alien form, the Omnitrix dial giving away that it was the human behind it. "You!"
Psyphon launched a blast of laser toward the creature, but as the beam reached it, reality fractured. The alien simply vanished, leaving Psyphon alone in the seemingly tranquil forest.
"Your mind revealed more than you intended," the distorted voice came from everywhere and nowhere. "About Vilgax… about his recovery…"
The air grew thick and heavy. Something was wrong. The peaceful forest scene began to waver like heat waves rising from an engine.
"By the way, Psyphon…" The distorted voice whispered, almost gentle. "While you were lost in nightmares, your body followed where I led. Tell me something… in that dream, you felt yourself burning alive, didn't you? Every detail, every sensation… How could you know that feeling so perfectly unless…" A pause. "You're already experiencing it!"
The illusion of peace dissolved, revealing the truth—Psyphon had been burning alive all along. The flames that had been consuming his flesh became brutally real. His blackened skin cracked further, more layers of flesh peeling away as the inferno continued its work. The air in his lungs turned to steam, cooking him from inside.
'Useless… just like in the dream.' Through boiling eyes, the servant caught a final glimpse of the mirror-like being rippling behind the heat waves. 'I left the teleportation circle open… this madman will reach my master!'
The feedback of real, physical pain overwhelmed his consciousness as he collapsed.
Through the burning forest, Ben's crystalline form drifted toward the distant white circle. Reality bent around him—trees, flames, and smoke fracturing like images in broken mirrors or simply vanishing where his form passed. The very air seemed to crack in its wake.
"Ben!"
He turned to see Gwen and Max emerging through the smoke-filled clearing. His cousin's face drained of color as she noticed what remained among the flames—a body charred beyond recognition, still smoldering.
Her gaze snapped back to Ben, horror mixing with anger. "Are you insane?! You get this watch that turns you into aliens, and your first thought is to take on an army of robots?! We don't even know what this form does besides floating around! You can't even control them! And now someone's…" Her voice cracked as she gestured toward the burning corpse. "We can confirm that at least one person is dead because of the fire you started!"
Ben pressed the dial with his pointed arm. Green light washed over the clearing, revealing his human form. His eyes were cold and angry, though his hands trembled slightly.
"I dealt with the servant." He said quietly, gaze fixed on the charred remains. The flames continued their work, making it impossible to tell if the body had once been human or alien.
Gwen stumbled backwards as understanding dawned on her face, words failing as the implications sank in.
Max's expression hardened, years of hidden experience showing through his grandfatherly facade. "Some say the best defense is offense. Right and wrong…" He paused, weighing each word. "Those concepts shift with people. What you did to Psyphon—I won't call it wrong nor right. But…" His weathered face grew stern. "Rushing in blind, letting luck choose your form? That kind of recklessness ends lives. You survived once. Don't gamble with life again."
Ben studied his grandfather, maybe seeing him truly for the first time. "Who are you really, Grandpa?"
"Not now." Max's eyes tracked the drones cutting through the crimson sky above the burning forest. "We need to move before—"
"I'll put an end to it." Ben's voice carried a cold certainty. His hand hesitated over the Omnitrix. But watching the drones above… No more playing the prey! "The only living being is up there: Psyphon's master Vilgax. Currently in recovery, defended only by machines… that I can destroy."
Gwen opened her mouth, likely to question how Ben knew such details, but the words died in her throat. Max's face had drained of all color—his composure shattering more completely than when he'd first recognized the Pyronite.
"Vilgax?!"
The shock in his voice drew both cousins' attention, but Max's expression had already hardened back into determination.
"You really need to tell us about your past, Grandpa." Ben moved toward the glowing white circle, his hand on the Omnitrix. No more playing the prey. "But later."
"BEN, WAIT—"
The teleportation circle flashed white, then vanished—taking Ben with it.