The Tennysons had long since left the countryside behind.
The Rust Bucket had continued its cross-country journey until it eventually rolled into Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, spending the day at a fair set up near the History Museum.
The whole place was alive with noise and movement, with people crowding the booths, children running between games, and vendors calling out to anyone willing to spend a few coins on food, prizes, or some other activity guaranteed to be easier than it looked.
Ben stood in front of one of the throwing booths with a baseball resting in his hand, his expression so serious that it almost looked like he was about to pitch in a championship game instead of trying to knock over a stack of novelty statues.
He narrowed his eyes at the target, took a slow breath, and settled into a stance with absolute focus.
"Bottom of the ninth," he muttered. "Bases loaded. Two outs. Three balls. Tennyson winds up and..."
With a sharp shout, he spun his arm and hurled the ball forward with all the confidence in the world.
The baseball flew straight toward the pyramid of Benjamin Franklin head statues at the far end of the booth.
It hit one dead-center.
The stack wobbled, tilted, and trembled dramatically for a moment, making Ben's face brighten in anticipation.
Then the statues settled right back into place, but not a single one fell.
Ben froze, as his mouth slowly fell open.
"No way!" he exclaimed. "This game has got to be rigged! I totally nailed Ben Franklin!"
The clerk running the booth barely looked up from his seat. "Knock over the Ben Franklins, you win a prize. You knock over squat, you win squat."
With a frustrated grunt, he turned away and stalked back toward the rest of the group, where Max, Gwen, Gold Ship, Evan, and Orfevre were waiting.
The twins were each occupied with hot dogs, looking far more content than Ben felt. Gold Ship was eating hers by burying her face into it, trying to eat ten hot dogs all at once; a leash was attached to her back, with Evan holding the other end of the leash.
Max gave Ben a knowing smile as he returned.
"That's the way life goes, Ben," he said. "You win some, you lose some. Now come on, you can't visit Philadelphia without seeing the Liberty Bell."
Ben crossed his arms, still irritated by the loss. "You know, if I could go hero here, I'd win every single one of these games."
Gwen looked over at him with a flat expression.
"Sure," she said. "Use the most powerful devices in the universe to cheat at whack-a-mole. Definitely worth it."
Gold Ship snorted, clearly enjoying the chance to pile on.
"Skill issue."
Ben turned to glare at her. "Oh, I would like to see you try."
"Sure," Gold Ship said smugly before walking away with her siblings and grandpa. "Just dream it."
Ben huffed and looked away, muttering something under his breath. Max wandered over to a concession stand and came back with cotton candy.
Ben was still grumbling to himself when a sudden crash echoed through the fairgrounds.
A small flatbed truck had burst into view, tearing through the area in a reckless, uncontrolled path. Sitting on the back of it, secured on a stand, was the Liberty Bell itself.
Two crooks were hanging on to it as the truck bounced and lurched through the fair, trying desperately to keep it steady while also looking like they had absolutely no idea how to handle the chaos they had created.
Then Ben's eyes widened. "So not good!"
"Move!" Evan shouted.
He shoved his hot dog and leash into Orfevre's hands without any warning and launched himself forward. A second later, he drop-kicked Ben's face straight out of the truck's path, sending him tumbling aside just as the vehicle barreled through where he had been standing.
"Owww!" Ben groaned, rubbing his face as he sat up. "You know you could've just pushed me!"
"I did." Evan glanced back. "With my foot."
"They're getting away with the Liberty Bell!" Max said sharply.
"Not if XLR8 has anything to say about it!" Ben shouted, already reaching for the Omnitrix.
He slammed his hand down on the dial.
A burst of green light began to erupt around him as his family quickly covered him.
"Evidently, he doesn't!" Gwen shot back.
Out of the green light, Grey Matter emerged instead.
The Galvan looked down at himself.
"Oh, come on." He let out a miserable groan.
Behind them, the truck screeched around a corner, plowed straight through a toy booth, and sent plush animals flying everywhere as several police cruisers immediately began chasing after it.
Grey Matter looked around rapidly.
His eyes landed on a nearby strength-test machine. "I've got an idea!"
Without another word, he sprinted over, climbed the frame with surprising speed, and hopped onto the striking platform beneath the bell.
He looked up.
"Give me a lift!"
Orfevre had just finished both her own hot dog and her brother's, somehow managing to eat while also keeping Gold Ship from wandering off into trouble. She walked over, still holding Gold Ship's leash, then clenched her fist and drew it back.
She twisted her hips and drove her fist downward.
The entire machine exploded downward from the impact.
The weight shot upward so violently it blasted past the bell entirely, and Grey Matter was sent flying off the booth with a startled cry as the Tennysons collectively looked up as Grey Matter disappeared into the distance.
Orfevre lowered her hand and looked at it for a second.
"Perhaps reinforcing that punch with Aura was unnecessary."
Gwen slowly turned toward her cousin.
"Wait," she said slowly, "If that punch was stronger than a full-force swing from a war hammer... how hard did you punch Evan growing up?"
Orfevre thought for a second. Then she answered with complete sincerity.
"Just enough."
That answer made Gwen feel somewhat glad that her brother isn't like this.
Max had also turned to look at Evan by then, and the old man's expression said everything before he even spoke. Evan saw it, sighed, and gave a small, resigned nod.
"Cover me."
Before anyone else could help, Orfevre pivoted, spun, and kicked Evan hard enough to launch him like a cannonball straight into an abandoned game booth.
The wooden stand exploded apart.
Golden light burst from the wreckage.
A freezing wind swept across the fairgrounds. From the cloud of shattered wood emerged a ghostly moth-like alien draped in a dark cloak.
Frost drifted from his body like mist. The temperature around him noticeably dropped.
"Big Chill…" His haunting voice echoed softly through the air.
Without wasting another second, Big Chill turned invisible and took flight.
High above the panicked crowd, he rapidly closed the distance to the fleeing truck.
Big Chill phased effortlessly through the truck's metal frame.
His intangible body drifted straight through the engine compartment. Frost bloomed across every moving component.
The engine froze solid. Fuel lines crystallized. The transmission locked into place beneath layers of supernatural ice.
The truck violently lurched.
The driver panicked as the steering wheel suddenly stopped responding.
"What the?!"
The vehicle spun wildly, its control slipping away completely. Tires screamed against the pavement as the vehicle careened out of line and smashed into a nearby streetlight with a loud crack.
Seeing that the vehicle had come to a stop and the police were reaching the crashed vehicle, Big Chill had already slipped away unnoticed, disappearing as quickly as he had come.
...
Ben stood off to the side with his music pocket playing in his hand, listening to it with a pleased little smile on his face as if he had found a pocket-sized miracle all by himself.
Gwen glanced at the small device and raised an eyebrow. "Cool music pocket," she said. "How'd you get it?"
Ben grinned, looking entirely too pleased with himself. "Let's just say a little friend helped me make a lucky guess."
"You used Grey Matter?!"
Her voice rose nearly an octave.
"Ben!" she exclaimed. "That's cheating!"
Ben looked completely unbothered.
He shrugged as though the answer were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Well," he said, "I didn't see any signs saying 'No Aliens Allowed.'"
Gwen stared at him in disbelief.
"No bad," Evan said from nearby.
Gwen turned on him instantly. "Don't agree with him."
Orfevre folded her arms as her brother pulled back on the leash attached to Gold Ship.
"He wasn't hurting anyone," she said. "And no one got hurt."
Gwen looked from one of them to the other, then let out a long breath and gave up on arguing any further.
Max stepped in with the cheerful air of someone who hadn't been listening.
"Hey, Ben!" he called, ushering them toward a row of televisions set up inside the store. "Your hometown baseball team, the Bellwood Cannons, are in the finals of the Little League World Series! And the finals are here in Philadelphia tomorrow."
Ben's entire face changed the instant he heard that.
His smile vanished, replaced by a look of utter shock that quickly gave way to excitement so strong he practically lunged toward the glass. He pressed both hands against the display window, staring in disbelief at the screens inside the store.
"No way!" he blurted. "I was supposed to be on that team!"
Gwen snorted softly. "Yeah," she said dryly, "if only you were qualified for it."
Ben shot her a glare, though it didn't have nearly as much force as it usually would.
"Grandpa," Ben said, turning toward him with sudden hope, "do you think we could go?"
...
"Williamsport, Pennsylvania," Max said as the Rust Bucket rolled down the road toward the Sports Complex. "The birthplace of Little League Baseball. It's where countless kids first dream of becoming champions, while learning lessons about teamwork, sportsmanship, and fair play."
"Hear that, Ben?" Gwen said, glancing over at him. "Fair play."
Ben, however, was too busy listening to his music pocket to pay her any attention.
"You know," he said with a smug grin, "I'd let you listen to it too if you were a little nicer to me."
Gwen rolled her eyes. "I'll pass."
As the Rust Bucket approached the entrance, it was stopped at the security checkpoint.
Several guards stood watch around the gate. Metal detectors had been set up for every visitor, German shepherds patrolled alongside their handlers, and every guard carried a sidearm. The entire entrance looked more like the front gate of a military base than a youth baseball tournament.
"What's with all the security?" Gwen asked, looking around curiously.
"The President's a big baseball fan," Max explained. "He likes to come watch the Little League World Series whenever he can, so security is naturally a lot tighter."
Once the guards finished checking the Rust Bucket and gave them the all-clear, the gate slowly opened, allowing them to drive into the sports complex.
...
Later, Ben stood by the fence surrounding one of the baseball diamonds, watching the Bellwood Cannons practice in their blue uniforms. A wide smile slowly spread across his face as he watched the team warm up, imagining himself out there with them.
"There they are," Ben said excitedly. "The Cannons! I'm gonna go say hi."
He hurried toward the gate, but before he could get through, someone stuck out a foot and tripped him.
"Whoa!"
Before Ben could even hit the ground, another hand grabbed him by the back of his pants, leaving him dangling awkwardly against the chain-link fence.
"...No way."
He slowly looked up and immediately wished he hadn't.
The two faces staring back at him were the last ones he wanted to see during summer vacation.
"Well, look who's hanging around again, J.T.," said the boy in the Cannons uniform with a smug grin. "Wedgie Tennyson."
Cash laughed while the bespectacled J.T. snickered beside him.
Ben struggled until his shirt and pants slipped free from Cash's grip. He landed on the ground with a thud, quickly scrambling back to his feet while trying to salvage what little dignity he had left.
"I thought you were hiding from us until school started, shrimp," Cash mocked.
"Yeah, well..." Ben brushed himself off. "I've been a little busy saving the world this summer instead, Cash."
Cash burst out laughing.
"Oh, saving the world?"
"Yeah," J.T. added with a grin. "This dweeb lives in his own little world."
Ben glared at the two of them.
By then, Gwen had caught up.
"Friends of yours?" she asked.
"Hardly," Ben answered. "Cash and J.T. are two of the biggest egomaniacs you'll ever meet."
Meanwhile, the Gold siblings had returned from a nearby food stand, each carrying a hot dog that had been paid for with Evan's allowance.
Gold Ship blinked as she watched the scene.
"Big Bro... is Ben seriously getting bullied?"
Evan took a bite of his hot dog without much interest.
"He'll be fine. If those two small fries are enough to scare him, then maybe I judged him too highly."
Unlike Ben, Evan had never cared much for baseball, or sports in general.
Ever since he and his siblings were young, their physical abilities had far surpassed those of ordinary children. Most sports simply stopped being fun when they could overpower nearly anyone through raw strength alone.
Because of that, the Gold siblings usually found entertainment elsewhere.
Dream Journey loved spending hours playing GTA games.
Nakayama Festa could lose entire days to gacha games.
Orfevre enjoyed learning new skills whenever something caught her interest.
Evan spent most of his free time upgrading and experimenting with the Another Omnitrix.
Fenomeno simply liked dressing up or playing dressing games.
As for Gold Ship... She somehow managed to entertain herself with whatever random toy happened to be nearby.
"What did you just call us?" Cash's smug expression immediately disappeared.
He marched over to Evan, clearly irritated after hearing himself being called a small fry.
Evan didn't even bother looking at him.
"See, Gold Ship?" he said calmly. "He doesn't even realize he's a small fry after someone says it to his face. That just proves how pathetic he is."
"I see."
Gold Ship nodded seriously, making the face of someone who had just learned an important life lesson.
Cash's face turned bright red.
"Why, you!" He reached out and shoved at Evan's shoulder.
Or rather... He tried to.
Evan caught his wrist before the push could even land.
"Remember this, Gold Ship," Evan continued as if Cash wasn't even there. "One of the best ways to deal with bullies is to ignore them. Most of the time, they'll lose interest and leave."
His grip slowly tightened.
Cash's confident expression vanished almost instantly. "Agh!"
"Of course," Evan continued, "if you have the strength to stop them and still choose to let them bully you..."
His fingers tightened a little more. "...that's just sad."
A sharp crack echoed.
"AAAAAH!!"
Cash dropped to his knees, desperately trying to pull his arm free while tears formed in the corners of his eyes.
"LET GO, YOU FREAK!!"
"Right!" Gold Ship nodded enthusiastically. "So if someone tries to bully me, unleash hell. Got it!"
"Not exactly what I mea-"
Before Evan could finish correcting her...
"LET GO OF HIM!"
J.T. charged forward, throwing himself at Evan in an attempt to rescue his friend.
A hand flashed out.
Orfevre's backhand landed squarely across his face.
J.T. spun sideways before crashing face-first into the dirt, several teeth flying from his mouth.
She calmly lowered her hand.
"The only person allowed to hit my brother is me."
Her golden eyes shifted toward the two boys.
"So get lost, small fries."
Evan released Cash's wrist.
Neither bully dared say another word.
Cash clutched his injured arm while J.T. staggered back to his feet. The pair quickly turned tail and ran, not even looking back.
Before anyone could comment further, a baseball suddenly whistled through the air.
Everyone instinctively ducked as the ball shot over their heads.
A boy wearing a brown-and-black uniform caught it cleanly without even taking a step. A shield-shaped emblem with a large K was stitched proudly onto his jersey.
"Heh?"
The three Gold siblings turned toward him.
Several other members of the opposing team, the Squires, were lined up across the field, practicing synchronized throwing drills.
The baseballs flew back and forth in perfect rhythm. The timing was almost mechanical.
As the baseballs came hurtling toward the Tennysons.
Without thinking, Evan casually reached out and caught one.
At the same moment, Orfevre caught the second with one hand.
Gold Ship, meanwhile, wisely stepped behind both of her siblings, letting the last ball fly past them while Gwen and Ben ducked.
"Watch it," Orfevre called out, sounding more annoyed than angry.
The boy who had caught the remaining ball simply threw it straight toward them again.
Evan caught it just as effortlessly as before.
"Hello!" Gwen shouted with her arms crossed. "In case you didn't notice, we're not wearing uniforms!"
Before anyone on the field could answer, the sharp sound of fingers snapping echoed across the diamond.
A stern-looking man wearing the Squires' coaching uniform stepped forward.
"Stay out of our drill," he said coldly, glaring at Evan and Orfevre.
"Your drill?" Max repeated, gripping the chain-link fence with visible annoyance. "Your players almost took my grandkids' heads off!"
The coach didn't seem the least bit apologetic.
"Maybe next time they'll stay out of the way."
He raised his whistle and blew a sharp blast.
Immediately, every member of the Squires fell into a neat single-file line before marching off in perfect order, leaving the Tennysons standing there with expressions ranging from annoyed to completely bewildered.