"Execute them immediately!"
The command came from the tallest Highbreed—clearly a military commander based on his bearing and the deference other Atasians showed him.
The response was instantaneous.
Every Highbreed present spread their white wings with a sound like tearing silk. Razor-sharp claws extended from their fingers with audible clicks. They moved as a coordinated unit, decades of military training evident in their synchronized assault.
They were impossibly fast, closing the distance in microseconds. Those dark claws sliced through the air like scythes, all aimed with surgical precision at Ben's throat—the killing strike, no hesitation, no mercy.
Ben's spider-sense screamed a frantic warning.
Before he could consciously press the Omnitrix's manual activation or even trigger voice control, the device responded autonomously to the threat.
Green light flared.
A blue blur replaced Ben's human form.
XLR8 dodged the initial assault with lightning-fast reflexes. The world around him slowed to a crawl as his perception accelerated to match his superhuman velocity.
But this was far from over.
The tall Highbreed commander actually tracked XLR8's movement, his luminous eyes following the blur as if it were moving at normal speed. He took another step forward, closing distance that should have been impossible to cover.
It was like watching a resurrected Superman fight the Flash. In the slow-motion perception that XLR8 experienced—reality slowed down thousands of times—only the Highbreed moved normally.
No, that wasn't quite accurate.
In reality, all the Highbreed were moving at normal combat speed in XLR8's accelerated timeframe.
The only things that appeared frozen were the DNAlien servants, who seemed locked in temporal stasis by comparison.
THUMP!
Another attack came from an unexpected angle. Ben barely managed to dodge one Highbreed's strike when another materialized behind him, its claws tearing through his midsection with devastating accuracy.
The pain was immediate and shocking.
"Ben!" Sirius XII's cry of alarm cut through the combat chaos.
"I'm fine," Ben managed, one hand pressed against the wound in his torso.
His rapid healing was already kicking in—XLR8's enhanced metabolism worked on injuries just as effectively as it did on movement speed. The torn flesh began knitting back together almost immediately.
The wounds sealed completely within seconds. That was one of the less-advertised advantages of this particular transformation—not only were actions fast, but brain processing, reaction time, and cellular regeneration all operated at accelerated rates.
How fast do you heal when—
The thought lasted less than a millisecond before Ben's body changed again, the Omnitrix cycling transformations in response to continued threat assessment.
His sleek blue form expanded. Dark blue skin became thick as hardened earth, muscles swelling to massive proportions.
Humungousaur—the Vaxasaurian transformation!
A single punch from this form could shatter steel plates several meters thick. Raw physical power that could challenge most heavy-hitters in direct combat.
But in the eyes of the enhanced Highbreed, it registered as barely noteworthy.
SMACK!
The commander caught Ben's fist effortlessly, his grip like iron. His body stood firm and unyielding as stone, completely unmoved by the impact that should have sent him flying.
"Such pathetic strength!" The Highbreed's voice dripped with contempt. "Not even comparable to a child's!"
"Such a bloated, enormous body—sacrificing all mobility—and this is the pitiful power you gain from it? Truly an inferior species!"
Immense force suddenly pressed down on Ben from above. The original baseline Highbreed already possessed strength surpassing standard Vaxasaurians. With the Cosmic Cube enhancement, that advantage had become overwhelming.
Ben felt exactly like a tampered dragon from a poorly balanced video game—seemingly possessing greater size and mass, yet being knocked around by a smaller, faster opponent who understood the actual mechanics.
Physics had apparently stopped applying normally.
On the other side of the battlefield, Sirius XII found himself besieged by even more attackers. He was fighting desperately, anxiety written across his alien features.
I told him! Sirius thought frantically. I warned him that we Highbreeds were never weak, even when we were arrogant!
Ben's heroes mean nothing to enhanced Atasians!
He wanted to help, but there were too many opponents converging on his position. He could only struggle to defend himself while waiting anxiously for—
"Four-Arm!"
Ben's voice cut through the chaos as he immediately switched forms.
After all, getting his dinosaur head twisted off wasn't particularly appealing.
The transformation was instantaneous. Four Arms—the Tetramand form—actually possessed slightly less raw strength than Humungousaur in baseline comparison.
But—
"Sakaarian Thunder!"
BOOM!!!
Crimson lightning erupted across Ben's body, crackling and coiling around his four arms like living serpents of pure energy. The Old Power—the cosmic force he'd learned on Sakaar—amplified his already considerable strength to devastating levels.
With this divine enhancement, the entire dynamic shifted immediately.
Ben straightened his body despite the Highbreed commander's crushing grip. His upper two arms engaged in pure wrestling, matching the Highbreed's strength. His lower two arms delivered a vicious combination—rapid elbow strikes to the ribs that hit with the force of sledgehammers.
"AAARGH!!!"
The Highbreed had never encountered such "dirty" fighting tactics. The concept of using multiple arms for simultaneous grappling and striking was completely outside their combat doctrine.
He staggered backward, his perfect form disrupted by the unexpected assault.
Several other Highbreed rushed to assist their commander. Ben executed a perfect backflip, his right leg extending like a battle-axe in a devastating heel drop.
Crimson energy flashed—Sakaarian red lightning painting the air with violent beauty.
The descending kick nearly decapitated the Highbreed who'd been attempting a flanking maneuver, only missing because the target's enhanced reflexes let him pull back at the last microsecond.
Sirius XII stood completely stunned, his own defense momentarily forgotten.
Such formidable combat power... is this even possible?
Is this really still a Tetramand transformation?
The Highbreed who'd been surrounding Sirius immediately redirected their assault toward Ben. The threat assessment was obvious—he was the primary danger.
A vast expanse of white descended like hundreds of enormous moths swarming toward a flame.
Ben accepted all challengers.
His four fists became blurs, moving so fast they created afterimages that distorted space itself. With each swing, the earth trembled. The entire facility shook from the concussive impacts!
THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!
One punch after another in a dense barrage—hundreds of strikes in mere seconds, forming an impenetrable wall of violence and thunder before Ben's position.
Every Highbreed who attempted to close distance was sent flying by the overwhelming force. Some crashed through walls. Others cratered the reinforced floor. Several simply went limp mid-flight, unconscious before they even landed.
As for the DNAlien servants? They didn't even have the right to approach the battlefield. The lightning discharges and sonic booms alone were sufficient to make them collapse, their altered physiology unable to withstand the ambient energy.
Many simply exploded from the pressure waves, their parasitic biology failing catastrophically.
Ben knew intellectually that most of them had once been Kree citizens.
But what did that have to do with him?
The Kree Empire wasn't innocent in this scenario. If they hadn't attempted their aggressive actions against the Plumber and their experimental Cosmic Cube project, the Highbreed would never have been able to infiltrate and subvert their civilization so completely.
Snakes and rats in the same nest—all enemies, all complicit.
That settled it!
Ben shattered the Highbreed's delusion of invincibility with methodical brutality. After several minutes of sustained assault—though it felt like hours to the defenders—every single Highbreed had been beaten to the ground.
They lay scattered across the battlefield like broken toys, unable to rise.
Only Sirius XII remained standing, staring in blank shock at the field of defeated white-furred bodies.
"Stop, stop, STOP! Don't fight anymore!"
The tall commander from before could no longer stand. He dragged himself backward with his arms, legs clearly broken, raising one hand in desperate supplication.
"I'll take you to see the elders! Please!"
Ben clenched his fists, his four arms creating an intimidating display. He squinted down at the commander.
"Hmm. Weren't you being extremely tough just a moment ago?"
His tone turned mocking.
"I actually preferred your rebellious attitude. Please go back to that version of yourself."
The commander only dared to voice his complaint internally. At this moment, he looked at Ben as if regarding a terrifying monster—something that shouldn't exist, that violated fundamental laws of combat and hierarchy.
"Come with me," he said weakly, forcing himself upright.
Every bone in his body felt fractured. He looked at Ben and Sirius XII with dark, hateful eyes that promised future vengeance if the opportunity ever arose.
Then he led them toward a towering structure in the facility's center—a spire that rose above all other buildings, marking it as the seat of power.
Several Highbreed elders maintained their residence there.
"Honored Elders," the commander began, kneeling with visible pain, "this lowly creature—"
"Hmm?" Ben's nonverbal sound carried clear threat.
The commander immediately swallowed whatever insult he'd been about to deploy.
"This... individual wishes an audience with you."
"Very well. You are dismissed."
The Highbreed elders sat elevated on a ceremonial platform, their bodies nearly twice the size of ordinary Atasians. But their coloring was distinctly different from younger specimens.
Perhaps due to advanced age, their abdomens had become more corpulent. Their skin had taken on colors like withered autumn leaves—yellows and browns instead of pure white.
"O wielder of the Omnitrix," one elder spoke, his voice carrying the weight of centuries, "we know why you have come to this place."
"Now that you have reached our headquarters, our grand design has failed. The fate of the Atasian people has reached its terminus."
He spread his arms in a gesture of resignation.
"Do as you please. Destroy us if you wish. We welcome extinction over contamination."
"Wait, Honored Elder!" Sirius XII called out urgently, his voice cracking with desperation. "We have discovered a solution to our genetic crisis! A way to save our species!"
"By becoming like you?" The elder's voice turned cold as winter. "By abandoning our noble bloodline and embracing mongrel status? We would rather face extinction!"
The pronouncement silenced Sirius XII as effectively as a physical blow.
"Sirius XII, you have brought profound shame upon our entire race," the elder continued, each word measured and final. "You are no longer worthy of being counted among the Atasians. Henceforth, you will live with your humiliating contaminated bloodline among those inferior species you seem to admire!"
"Constantly spouting such vulgar, supremacist rhetoric," Ben interrupted, his tone carrying genuine irritation. "It's genuinely unbearable to listen to."
He stepped forward, all four arms crossed.
"Since you look down on other species so intensely, I'm going to do something poetic. I'll fuse your genetics with the very species you most despise!"
"You cannot!" The elder's composure finally cracked, genuine fear entering his voice. "You have no authority—"
"I don't care where you think authority comes from," Ben cut him off flatly.
He slammed his hand down on the Omnitrix with decisive force.
"Omnitrix! Execute complete genetic repair protocol for the Atasian species! Scope: universal! Target: every member of the Highbreed race, regardless of location!"
The device pulsed with green light.
ACKNOWLEDGED!
The synthesized voice echoed through the chamber with the finality of divine judgment.