The void between stars was silent, but Vilgax could feel a disturbance running through it—like a whisper echoing across the cosmos. It was subtle, too subtle for normal senses, but not for the sharpened mind he carried now. The moment he stepped onto the bridge of the command ship, he knew something had changed. The subtle hum of the engines, the ticking of holo-screens, the rhythmic pulse of the ship's living circuits—everything felt normal. Yet an unseen presence pressed against his awareness, studying him, analyzing him, as though an invisible spotlight had been cast upon his very existence.
Vilgax stood tall in the center of the command chamber, shielded by layers of holographic data spiraling around him. The enhanced mental processing granted by his transmigration allowed him to decipher thousands of calculations simultaneously—energy readings, galactic broadcasts, temporal distortions, even dimensional fluctuations. All of it aligned into a single conclusion.
"We have drawn attention," he murmured.
The three generals standing behind him exchanged tense looks. Even the air seemed heavier.
General Skarn stepped forward. His armored boots clanged against the metallic floor. "From Earth, my lord? From the Plumbers?"
Vilgax shook his head. "No. Something far above them."
With a few gestures, he manipulated the displays. A wave of unfamiliar glyphs and cosmic signatures filled the air—symbols older than most civilizations, recognized only by scholars of forbidden history.
"Chrono energy," Vilgax said. "Temporal displacement ripples. Dimensional resonance from the higher spheres."
His enhanced mind pieced the implications together instantly.
Beings who should have remained asleep… were waking early.
General Draax's crimson eyes widened. "But… this early? We haven't even made our first strike."
"That is precisely why it concerns me," Vilgax said. "In the original flow of events, universal forces only observe my actions after my first major attack on Earth. But now, simply mobilizing my fleets… has alerted them."
He paused.
Because he himself was the anomaly.
This Vilgax thought strategically. He planned. He anticipated. He calculated future paths with terrifying accuracy. He wasn't the warmonger of canon—he was an unpredictable variable in the timeline. And the universe noticed.
He turned toward his generals, his voice cold and controlled. "From this moment forward, we are not only fighting Earth or the Plumbers. We are fighting fate itself."
Silence swallowed the room at those words.
Vilgax stepped closer to the primary holo-display and magnified a planet—an abandoned, cratered world with black fissures glowing faintly beneath its scarred surface.
"Khoral-9," he said. "A dead mining world. Or so the galaxy believes."
General Skarn frowned. "Reports claim its core collapsed centuries ago."
"A lie," Vilgax said. "The planet holds a Pre-Celestialsapien relic vault."
The chamber froze.
Relics from before the Celestialsapiens—entities capable of rewriting reality—were the rarest and most dangerous artifacts in existence. Even touching one without proper shielding could warp space-time.
"My lord…" Draax breathed. "If we retrieve such relics—"
"We gain the power to challenge the strongest forces in the universe," Vilgax finished. "And that is essential. The Omnitrix alone is not enough. Not for the empire I intend to build."
The generals bowed simultaneously.
Vilgax continued, "The vault is protected by dimensional distortions and gravitational anomalies. No organic force can safely enter."
Then he revealed his solution.
A sleek, vicious-looking drone appeared as a rotating hologram—built with multilayered quantum shields, adaptive plating, and a dimensional stabilizer core centuries beyond anything Vilgax had ever built in canon.
"This," Vilgax said, "is the Astra-Null Retrieval Unit. Designed specifically for unstable relic zones. It will survive what organic beings cannot."
The generals admired the design with awe, but Vilgax himself was already thinking far ahead. The relic core inside Khoral-9 wouldn't merely enhance his ship or weapons. It would fuel larger plans—plans requiring unimaginable power.
But before he could continue the briefing, the chamber lights flickered.
A high-priority encrypted transmission blinked on the main screen.
Origin: Galvan Prime.
The air turned icy.
General Skarn whispered, "Azmuth…"
Vilgax's eyes narrowed. "Display it."
A moment later, the small holographic figure materialized—short, ancient, with deep-set eyes full of intelligence sharp enough to cut through steel. Azmuth, the First Thinker. The creator of the Omnitrix. And one of the few beings whose mind could rival his own.
Azmuth looked directly at him.
"Vilgax," Azmuth said calmly. "Your actions are destabilizing the natural order."
Vilgax didn't react. His generals stiffened behind him.
Azmuth continued, "You are violating several future constants that should not be altered. Your technological progress, your mobilization speed, even your decision patterns… none of them align with the Vilgax I know."
"Then perhaps," Vilgax said evenly, "you never knew me."
Azmuth studied him. "No… you are not the Vilgax of this timeline."
Vilgax didn't deny it. He simply stared back with unblinking confidence.
"Your interference," Azmuth said, "is being monitored. Not just by me. The Chronosapien Council. The Enclave of the Fifth Dimension. And others you cannot begin to comprehend."
"I comprehend plenty," Vilgax replied. "Including this: you fear what I will become."
For the first time, Azmuth hesitated. "If you pursue the Omnitrix, you risk collapsing several future timelines. The consequences will be catastrophic."
"The consequences," Vilgax corrected, "will be mine to shape."
Azmuth exhaled—long, frustrated, tired. "If you continue on this path… we will meet again under less civil circumstances."
The hologram vanished.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
General Draax finally spoke, voice trembling with unease. "My lord… Azmuth directly contacted us. He never leaves Galvan Prime unless the universe is at risk."
"That means," Vilgax said, turning toward the stars beyond the viewport, "he recognizes I am no longer bound by the failures of my past self."
His voice lowered, controlled, deadly.
"It means I am now a threat to the very structure of destiny."
His crimson eyes burned with cold ambition as he raised his chin.
"Prepare the fleet. Set course for Khoral-9. Ready the Astra-Null Drones."
He closed his hand into a fist.
"The relic shall be mine. And once I wield its power, not even Azmuth or the universe itself will stop me."
As his soldiers saluted and moved to carry out the order, Vilgax remained motionless, staring into the abyss of space.
Far beyond the stars… something stirred.
The universe was watching him.
And he was watching back.