"The amount of advanced tech hidden inside Iron Man's armor is just absurd."
Inside an abandoned factory on the outskirts of New York, Bant had taken on the form of Upgrade, the alien known for its mechanical symbiosis. He was crouched over the disassembled Mark III armor, having already loosened almost every bolt and panel.
Before him lay an intricate spread of circuit boards. Bant's enlarged, luminous eyes were able to follow the pathways of current and signal flow with a clarity that his human mind simply could not match.
"The helmet's neural link units synchronize with the wearer's nervous system. That's how the armor responds so naturally."
It made sense. The armor was far too heavy for Tony Stark to operate through physical strength alone. Yet Tony could maneuver it with nuance and finesse because the suit was connected directly to him. War Machine's armor functioned similarly, and that model did not use an AI like JARVIS. Which meant that the suit itself was built to interface with human instinct.
"Still some parts I can't understand. My physics foundation is too shallow."
Bant let out a soft sigh and hopped down from the table. The knowledge was inside his brain. The problem was that his ordinary human mind could store the data, but could not apply it. If he transformed into a higher-intelligence alien like Grey Matter, he could decode everything instantly. But right now, Upgrade still had a few minutes left, and Bant wanted to use that time to read more circuitry.
Half an hour passed before the Omnitrix finally cooled enough to allow transformation again. Bant lifted his arm, pressing the core as it rose. The dial rotated, stopping on a broad-shouldered, black-skinned alien silhouette marked with glowing green lines.
Bant selected it.
A pulse of green energy surged across his body. His human form dissolved into a massive, two-meter tall figure of smooth, black organic matter traced with circuitry-like patterns. His skin seemed like living metal.
"Upgrade."
The Galvanic Mechamorphs, born on the satellite Galvan B, were bio-mechanical organisms capable of merging with technology and enhancing it. Their bodies could liquefy, stretch, and fuse with machines, granting them abilities far beyond what the original device was ever designed for.
And right now, Bant intended to use that ability to resurrect the energy-depleted Mark III.
Standing at full height, his new form resembled a mechanical guardian. He flexed his fingers experimentally, feeling the strange sensation of a body that was neither fully organic nor fully steel.
"Let's see what an upgraded Mark III is capable of."
Bant placed a massive hand against the armor's chest plate. His body shifted instantly, melting as if made of molten liquid. Black and green matter streamed into the armor's gaps and seams, swallowing the entire suit in seconds.
The armor's original red-and-gold color was replaced by a sleek black sheen decorated with glowing green circuitry veins. In the empty core slot, where the Arc Reactor once sat, the Omnitrix symbol embedded itself, filling the void with energy.
In that moment, Bant stopped feeling like he was simply wearing a suit. He felt like the suit was his own body.
He flexed an arm. The plating moved like muscle. The servos whirred like breath.
"I've completely fused with the armor."
Movement came effortlessly. He could jump, pivot, and brace his weight with natural balance. And unlike in his standard Upgrade form, the Mark III's reinforced plating made him feel solid, grounded, powerful.
And that was only the baseline.
With a single thought, Bant triggered a transformation. The armor's right hand reshaped itself, fingers dissolving into a cannon barrel that hummed with stored plasma. A moment later, the cannon reformed into an arm again.
He tried another conversion. Panels along his shoulder unfolded into missile ports. The missiles themselves were formed and loaded instantly, replicated by Upgrade's internal material copying.
"Every original weapon system is intact. But now, I can reproduce ammunition freely."
A slow grin formed behind the smooth mask.
"I've basically turned into a walking armory."
He resisted the temptation to take flight. Stark's tracking systems would notice the energy signature immediately. The government might notice too. And right now, the last thing he needed was to trigger multiple agencies hunting him.
So he tested quietly. Strength. Reflexes. Structural resilience. Movement fluidity. All in perfect harmony.
For thirty minutes, everything was exhilarating.
Then the Omnitrix beeped. High-pitched. Urgent.
Red warning lights pulsed through Bant's field of vision.
Forced defusion.
In a flash, Bant was expelled from the armor, reverting to human form. The armor, now lacking any internal power source or activating organism, collapsed instantly, scattering into a heap of disconnected components.
Bant dusted himself off with a sigh.
"Once Upgrade disconnects, all modifications vanish."
Which meant that he could not simply use Upgrade to permanently enhance Iron Man's technology. The fusion was temporary. He would have to carry the armor with him everywhere just to use it. And the moment Tony realized his suit was missing or altered, everything would collapse.
"If only Upgrade worked like Malware."
Malware was a mutation of the Mechamorph species. Unlike Upgrade, Malware's body was unstable, infected, unstable code reflected in its crimson patterns. But the mutation came with a terrifying ability: Malware could absorb technology permanently, replicate it endlessly, and weaponize it without restriction. Malware had once even consumed an Omnitrix core.
"If I were Malware, I could just absorb the Mark III and transform into it whenever I want."
He paused.
"Except letting the Omnitrix be corrupted is absolutely not an option."
The sun dipped. Time passed. Bant continued cycling forms, experimenting, studying, training.
Night fell over New York.
Outside the factory, the city transformed into something harsher. Streets emptied. Lights flickered. Shadows stretched between subway entrances and alley corners.
For most people, nighttime here was not safe.
Aunt May Parker pulled her coat tighter around her thin shoulders, shivering as cold wind swept down the empty street. Years of work had worn at her, leaving her hair pale and her posture slightly hunched.
She kept glancing toward the street where she expected to see her nephew.
Peter had promised he would walk her home today.
But she had been waiting for hours.
She could have left earlier. She could have simply returned home alone. But she was afraid that Peter might show up late and not find her.
She could accept being forgotten.
What she could not accept was Peter being in danger.
"Please be alright," she whispered to herself. "Please."
Just as she finally turned to go, a dark figure darted out of the far end of the street, moving too fast to fully see.
Aunt May froze.
Her hands tightened around her purse.
Something was coming.
Something not human.