"Thank you for your patronage!"
The hardware store owner beamed at Asher, who stood at the counter clutching an enormous bag of assorted parts. 'What a generous customer!'
Asher carefully maneuvered through the doorway, the heavy bag threatening to spill its contents with every step. Ben had been waiting outside, and the moment he spotted his cousin struggling, he hurried over with outstretched hands.
"Here, let me help!" Ben grabbed one side of the bag, grinning. "These are going to make some awesome weapons, right?"
Together, they hauled the bag across the parking lot toward the Rust Bucket, their efforts synchronized despite the awkward weight.
Max leaned against the RV's door, arms crossed, watching the two boys struggle. A fond smile tugged at his lips. "Did you two buy out the entire store?"
"Grandpa, we got everything!" Asher shifted his grip on the bag, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. "We were only delayed twenty minutes. We can hit the road now."
"Just remember what I said," Max warned, his tone turning serious as he fixed Asher with a penetrating stare. "Nothing too dangerous. You promised."
"Don't worry, Grandpa!" Asher's face lit up with confidence. "You can trust me!"
Well, nothing dangerous by my standards anyway, Asher thought privately. After facing down alien invasions and lake monsters, what he considered "safe" might differ significantly from most people's definitions.
Max started the engine and pulled back onto the highway.
Inside the RV, Asher immediately got to work organizing his materials. He transferred most of the parts into the storage compartment beneath his bunk, carefully removing his clothes and personal items to make room. The storage space would serve as his mobile workshop, everything he needed for quick equipment modifications on the go.
A smaller selection of parts remained on the table. These would be perfect for today's project.
"Alright, time to get started!" Asher reached for the Omnitrix, his fingers hovering over the dial as he selected the perfect alien for precision work.
FLASH!
Green light erupted around him. When it faded, Grey Matter stood on the table, a six-inch-tall grey-skinned alien with enormous green eyes and remarkable intelligence.
Grey Matter immediately surveyed the parts scattered across the table, his massive brain already calculating assembly sequences and optimal configurations. He picked up a tiny circuit board with surprising strength for his size, his enhanced intellect allowing him to see exactly how each component would fit together.
"Ben!" Grey Matter called in his high-pitched voice. "Can you hand me that capacitor? The blue one, third from the left!"
Ben blinked in surprise at the technical terminology flowing naturally from Grey Matter's mouth, words that Asher would never use in human form. He quickly located the requested part and carefully positioned it where his transformed cousin could reach it.
Gwen appeared from the back of the RV, drawn by the commotion. She watched with fascination as Grey Matter worked, his small hands manipulating components with surgical precision. "I'll never get used to how different you are when you transform," she murmured.
For seven minutes, Grey Matter worked on the most intricate aspects of assembly, the complex circuitry and precision connections that required both microscopic attention to detail and genius-level understanding of pneumatic systems.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
The Omnitrix's timeout warning echoed through the RV. Grey Matter quickly positioned the remaining components where Asher could easily access them before the green flash consumed him again.
Asher stretched as he returned to human form, his regular height feeling enormous after being six inches tall. "Okay, now for the easy part."
"Easy?" Ben raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You call that easy?"
"Yeah," Asher said matter-of-factly, his hands already moving to connect the pre-positioned parts. "When I'm Grey Matter, all that knowledge stays in my head. I don't understand the complicated theories or super-advanced calculations, but simple operations? I can handle those, no problem."
Of course, Asher's definition of "simple operations" would require a PhD for most people, Gwen thought wryly.
Within minutes, the scattered parts coalesced into a sleek air gun resembling a Desert Eagle pistol. The weapon's design was elegant yet functional, compressed air technology housed in a familiar form factor.
"That's so cool!" Ben immediately snatched the completed weapon from the table, turning it over in his hands with barely contained excitement. He struck what he imagined was a professional sharpshooter's pose. "Do I look like a marksman or what?"
"Ben, you haven't even fired a gun before," Gwen interjected, though even she couldn't completely suppress a smile at his enthusiasm.
Ben's excitement deflated slightly at the reality check. He experimentally aimed the air gun toward the window and carefully squeezed the trigger. Nothing happened.
"I have to show you how to use it first," Asher explained patiently. "Firing this thing in a crowded area would be way too dangerous. We need an open space to practice."
"Right, good point." Ben quickly lowered the weapon, zipping it securely into his jacket pocket. His disappointment was visible but temporary, the promise of actually using it soon kept his spirits high.
"Actually, you're in luck," Max called from the driver's seat without turning around. "Before we reach Slaterville, we'll pass an abandoned training facility that used to be for government agents. Perfect place for some target practice."
"Really?" Asher's eyes lit up with anticipation. "Maybe I can train there too!"
He'd been looking for opportunities to better understand his alien forms' capabilities. The sign-in system provided him with powerful abilities, but raw power meant nothing without skill and experience.
"Awesome! Asher can transform and spar with me!" Ben practically vibrated with enthusiasm.
Both boys turned their attention to the passing landscape, eagerly scanning the horizon for any sign of the training facility. Every minute felt like an hour as anticipation built.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity but was actually only fifteen minutes, a cluster of weathered structures appeared on the wasteland beside the highway.
The abandoned training facility sprawled across several acres. Wooden frames connected by rope lines stretched between support posts. Countless soda bottles dangled from the ropes at varying heights, traditional moving targets for marksmanship training. Target boards with mechanical components dotted the grounds, creating obstacle courses and challenge scenarios. At the center of everything stood a small control building, its equipment still functional despite years of neglect.
Max pulled the Rust Bucket off the highway and parked near the entrance. He headed straight for the control center, checking the systems and making minor adjustments. Years of experience showed in how efficiently he moved through the facility's setup.
Gwen claimed a shaded spot away from the training area, setting up a reclining chair and grabbing a book. She was perfectly content to watch from a comfortable distance while enjoying her snacks.
Asher and Ben stood among the wooden frames, surveying the dangling bottles with competitive determination. The bottles swayed gently in the breeze, catching the afternoon sunlight.
"Alright Ben, let me show you how this works!" Asher gestured for the air gun.
Ben handed it over carefully, watching intently as Asher flicked off the safety. A small compartment on the side of the magazine automatically activated with a soft whirrr, beginning to draw in air.
The suction device pulled atmospheric air into the compression chamber for several seconds before automatically shutting off. Asher slapped the magazine back into place with a satisfying click.
If you listened carefully, you could hear the faint mechanical sounds as the gun's internal mechanisms compressed the captured air into concentrated projectiles.
I'm honestly not sure how all the internal engineering works, Asher admitted to himself. Grey Matter understands it perfectly, but as a human I just know which buttons to press. That was the strange duality of the Omnitrix, the aliens' knowledge was available during transformation, but only fragments remained afterward.
"Your turn." Asher handed the air gun back to Ben, meeting his cousin's eyes seriously. "Remember, don't fire too quickly, and be careful with the kickback."
"Got it!" Ben took a deep breath, steadying himself. He gripped the air gun with both hands exactly the way he'd seen in action movies, assuming a proper shooting stance.
His fingers found the trigger. The world seemed to narrow to just him, the weapon, and the target bottle dangling thirty feet away.
BANG!
The air gun discharged with surprising force. Ben's hands jerked upward from the recoil, stronger than he'd expected from "just compressed air." But the invisible projectile flew true, punching clean through the plastic bottle with devastating accuracy!
The punctured bottle spun wildly on its rope before breaking free and tumbling to the ground.
"Yes!" Ben pumped his fist victoriously. "First shot!"
"Ben, that was amazing!" Asher stared at his cousin with genuine surprise and admiration. "You've got natural talent for this!"
"Really?" Ben looked down at his hands with newfound wonder, as if they belonged to someone else. "I... I actually hit it?"
"Keep going! You can do this!" Asher encouraged from the sidelines, genuinely impressed.
Emboldened, Ben lined up another shot. He took his time, breathing steadily, focusing entirely on the next swaying target.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
Four more shots rang out in quick succession. Two bottles exploded from direct hits while two projectiles whistled past their targets into the distance.
Four shots out of five with two hits, Asher calculated. For a complete beginner, that's honestly incredible.
"Not bad at all!" Asher called out. But his smile shifted into something more competitive. "Now it's my turn to show you what I can really do!"
He raised his wrist, fingers dancing across the Omnitrix's interface. The dial rotated through various alien silhouettes until he found exactly what he wanted.
SLAM!
Asher drove his palm down on the raised faceplate with authority.
BOOM!
Brilliant green energy exploded outward, consuming Asher's form entirely. When the light faded, a massive crystalline figure stood in his place.
Diamondhead!
The Petrosapien towered at nearly seven feet tall, his body composed entirely of ultra-dense green and purple crystals. Sunlight refracted through his crystalline structure, creating rainbow patterns on the ground around him. Sharp crystal shards protruded from his back and shoulders, and his entire body seemed to radiate barely contained power.
But it wasn't just Diamondhead's appearance that had changed. His entire demeanor shifted, more aggressive, more confident, more warrior-like. The alien form brought with it not just physical abilities but personality traits as well.
Diamondhead's eyes narrowed as he assessed the training course. Without warning, his right arm transformed, the crystals restructuring themselves into a honeycomb-pattern Gatling gun configuration!
WHIRRR!
The crystalline weapon spun up with a mechanical precision that seemed impossible from organic material.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
Three diamond shuriken erupted from the rotating Gatling formation in rapid succession. The projectiles were beautiful, perfect geometric shapes that caught the sunlight as they flew, and absolutely devastating.
The first shuriken pierced its target bottle cleanly. But unlike Ben's air-compressed rounds, the diamond projectile didn't stop. It continued through three more bottles in a perfectly straight line before slamming into the wooden frame behind them!
The second and third shuriken followed identical paths, each one punching through multiple targets with ridiculous ease.
CRASH! CRASH! CRASH!
The diamond projectiles finally embedded themselves in the dirt, having each penetrated seven bottles before their momentum was exhausted.
Three shots. Ten targets destroyed.
"Whoa..." Ben breathed, all thoughts of competition evaporating in the face of such overwhelming precision and power.
Even from her shaded observation point, Gwen sat up straighter, her book forgotten. "That's... that's the level of a top-tier special operations agent I've seen in movies," she murmured with awe.
Max had frozen at the control panel, watching the display with a mixture of pride and concern. 'My grandson Ben is already excellent,' he thought. 'But Asher... Asher is simply in a different category entirely.'
"That's nothing," Diamondhead said, his voice carrying that characteristic crystal-like echo. Pride and confidence radiated from every word, emotions amplified by the alien transformation. "Grandpa, crank the difficulty to maximum. This is way too easy."
CLANK!
Max pulled the main lever all the way to the top setting. Immediately, every rope line in the facility began vibrating. The training course came alive with motion.
WHOOSH! WHOOSH! WHOOSH!
The soda bottles no longer swayed gently. They now spun and whirled at high speeds like a chaotic amusement park ride, creating a dizzying array of moving targets. Bottles intersected and changed elevation randomly, making accurate prediction nearly impossible.
"Ben!" Diamondhead's crystalline hand landed on his cousin's shoulder with surprising gentleness despite its rocky composition. "Let's do this together! Think you can keep up?"
"Yeah!" Ben nodded with fierce determination, though Diamondhead's heavy pat had actually hurt more than he'd let on. He raised the air gun, trying to track the rapidly moving targets.
In one fluid motion, Diamondhead dropped into a combat stance. His entire body language changed, predatory, focused, dangerous. He leaned forward slightly, crystals reconfiguring across his form as both arms transformed into multi-barrel Gatling configurations.
The intensity radiating from the transformed hero was palpable. Even Max, standing safely inside the control room, could feel the raw power and warrior spirit emanating from Diamondhead.
'This is Asher channeling an alien warrior species,' Max reminded himself. 'This is what the Omnitrix was designed to do, not just copy forms, but embody the essence of what makes each species great.'
Far overhead, beyond Earth's atmosphere, three meteorite-like objects quietly breached the outer boundary. They burned through the atmosphere at incredible speeds, their trajectory aimed toward a specific destination.
A desert.
The same desert where the Tennysons had left behind the wreckage of countless defeated enemies and abandoned alien technology.
Something was coming.
But for now, in this moment, Asher and Ben focused entirely on their training, completely unaware of the approaching threat that would soon test everything they'd learned.
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