Chapter 123: The Gangster Duo
'If I had known it was going to be like this, I would have chained my cousin to the Rustbucket before letting him drag that stinky squid aboard.'
Ben shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Across the cabin, Vilgax was staring at him. It was not the usual murderous, I-will-crush-your-bones glare. It was a lingering, obsessive gaze locked entirely onto the Omnitrix strapped to Ben's wrist. The sheer intensity of that look made Ben's skin crawl. He had just spent the last hour awkwardly trying to comfort Tetrax over the loss of his home world, and right now, the Dweeb desperately needed some comfort of his own. Unfortunately, no one was handing out free hugs.
Time dragged on at a torturous, snail-like pace. Every minute stretched into an eternity. But finally, the vast emptiness of space gave way to their destination: Incarceron, the most heavily fortified prison in the known universe, designed exclusively for the worst scum the galaxy had to offer.
Floating in the dark void, Incarceron was less of a building and more of an independent celestial body. It was a colossal, shuttle-shaped fortress forged from cold, black-grey steel. Its muted metallic hull absorbed the distant starlight, making it nearly invisible against the cosmic backdrop. While it might not have possessed the exact mass of a full-fledged planet, its sheer, overwhelming scale was certainly comparable.
"We have arrived." Tetrax's deep, gravelly voice echoed through the cockpit, breaking the suffocating silence.
Hearing the Petrosapien's announcement, Vilgax finally snapped out of his trance. He tore his gaze away from Ben's wrist and pushed his massive frame out of his seat. Heavy footsteps thudded against the floor plating as the warlord approached the main console, his crimson eyes narrowing at the virtual display of the prison. "And now, what is the plan?"
Klein leaned back in his chair, his expression entirely deadpan. "We kill our way in. We leave exactly one person alive. That surviving person will be Azmuth."
"Cousin, calm down!" Ben and Gwen yelled in perfect, panicked unison.
The entire crew stiffened. Grandpa Max pinched the bridge of his nose, while Tetrax cast a wary glance over his crystalline shoulder. Knowing Klein's track record, if he actually went through with a full-scale slaughter, the collateral damage would be catastrophic. Azmuth would likely be caught in the crossfire and vaporized before they even found his cell.
Noting the collective panic radiating from his family, Klein offered a long, put-upon sigh. He threw his hands up in a gesture of absolute surrender. "Alright, alright. Fine. We kill our way in, and we leave two people alive."
"Wait!" Gwen stepped forward, her green eyes wide and pleading. "Cousin, literally everything else aside, can we please just not kill our way in at all?"
Ben nodded so fast his neck threatened to snap. "Yeah! What the Dork said!"
Klein stared at them for a long, heavy moment. "...Fine. We just kick the front doors down, capture whoever runs this place, and beat him until he hands over Azmuth." He shook his head, looking utterly exhausted by their unreasonable demands. His posture screamed that he was making the ultimate sacrifice for their delicate sensibilities.
Vilgax tilted his head. The strategy sounded suspiciously familiar—almost exactly like his own usual approach to planetary conquest. A cruel smirk tugged at the corners of his tentacled mouth. "Although it pains me to admit it," the warlord rumbled, his deep voice vibrating through the hull, "you are becoming slightly less insufferable. I agree with this course of action."
Klein raised an eyebrow, looking at the towering alien as if seeing him in a new light. "You are not entirely gutless after all, you stinky squid."
Without missing a beat, Klein extended his left hand toward the warlord. "Come. Shake hands. Let us cement this alliance of violence."
Vilgax let out a wet, disdainful snort. His facial tentacles twitched with sheer disgust, but he reached out anyway, wrapping his massive, clawed fingers around the human's much smaller hand for a brief, forceful shake.
However, the Chimera Sui Generis was completely oblivious to one crucial detail. Because his palm was so absurdly large, his grip completely swallowed Klein's hand—pressing directly against the cold metal faceplate of the Another Omnitrix.
Pulling his hand back, Vilgax crossed his thick arms over his chest and casually directed his gaze toward the ceiling panels. On the outside, he was the picture of stoic intimidation.
On the inside, he was throwing a parade.
'Ah,'Vilgax thought, his ego inflating to the size of a gas giant.'As expected. When one achieves true greatness, it simply cannot be hidden. Even this chaotic human anomaly has finally recognized the sheer, unadulterated majesty of Vilgax! I must maintain my composure. I must not laugh. Do not laugh... Hehehe... Hahahaha...'
"...Hahahahaha!"
The booming, villainous laughter suddenly erupted from Vilgax's throat, echoing wildly through the small cabin. He had been so lost in his own delusions of grandeur that he forgot to keep his internal monologue internal.
Klein immediately took a large step back, his face twisting into a mask of pure revulsion. He retreated to a quiet corner of the ship, leaving the laughing squid to his madness.
Once out of sight, Klein glanced down at his left wrist. A deeply satisfied smirk touched his lips. The dial of the Another Omnitrix, which usually glowed a harsh orange-yellow, was currently pulsing with a deep, scanning dark blue.
It had just successfully extracted and recorded Vilgax's DNA.
Vilgax was a heavily cybernetic, mutated Chimera Sui Generis—an extreme anomaly among his own species. Because of this unique genetic divergence, the Another Omnitrix's default database had not possessed his specific strain.
But now, it did.
Klein certainly did not lack raw firepower. He had a roster packed with world-breaking entities. But genuine, unadulterated fun? That was a rare commodity. He tapped the dial thoughtfully. 'Hmm. From now on, whenever I need to commit some casual arson or ruin someone's day, I will just use this form. The psychological damage alone will be priceless.'
Seeing the two most volatile entities on the ship finally quiet down, Ben, Gwen, and Grandpa Max collectively exhaled a massive sigh of relief.
At the helm, Tetrax turned to his gelatinous co-pilot. "Gluto, increase thruster output. We are entering Incarceron's outer perimeter."
It went without saying that the Tennyson family had absolutely zero intention of following the blood-soaked siege tactics proposed by their resident desperadoes. They needed a stealthy approach.
But just as the sleek spacecraft breached the prison's shadow, the comms console flared to life. A cold, synthetic voice echoed through the cabin, devoid of any emotion.
"Warning. Unidentified vessel detected approaching Incarceron airspace. Please verify identity and state your purpose immediately. Failure to comply will result in the total destruction of the unidentified vessel."
Klein's eyes snapped open. A wicked, predatory light danced in his pupils. 'Oh? You threaten me with a good time, and suddenly I am wide awake.'
"Well, you asked for it," Klein declared cheerfully. He raised his left hand, fully prepared to slam down the dial, transform into Spidermonkey, and systematically tear the entire space station apart from the inside out.
The automated death threat had already spiked the crew's anxiety. If the ship was blown to cosmic dust, they were all going down with it. Grandpa Max and Tetrax were already frantically hammering away at the control panels, desperately trying to transmit their forged clearance codes before the defense turrets locked on.
But Klein's enthusiastic declaration of war sent their panic into overdrive. It was a classic case of jumping out of the frying pan and straight into a supernova. They had not even managed to pacify the prison's automated defenses, and now their own teammate was trying to initiate a boss fight!
Ben gripped his hair in frustration. They just wanted to quietly sneak in, find Azmuth, and leave. Why did everything have to escalate into a planetary crisis?!
Vilgax took one look at the flashing red warning lights, glanced at Klein's glowing watch, and made a split-second tactical decision. He spun on his heel and sprinted toward the rear blast doors. He was going to hijack an escape pod, launch himself into the void, and let these lunatics blow themselves up!
The mechanical doors hissed open automatically, granting the warlord his exit. Vilgax had barely taken two thundering steps down the corridor when Grandpa Max's heavy sigh of relief washed over the cockpit.
"Phew. Finally got it through."
The blaring red alarms abruptly ceased. Their forged credentials had successfully bypassed the security grid.
The voice that had threatened them belonged to the central AI that governed the entire facility. Incarceron was a marvel of high-tech incarceration. There were no wardens pacing the halls. There were no guards wielding stun batons. There were not even traditional, barred cells.
The prison itself was the cage. The inmates were allowed to roam freely within its cavernous, steel belly, but they could never leave.
However, this lack of confinement did not equate to freedom. It was a lawless, blood-soaked purgatory. The only governing rule within those cold metal walls was the absolute survival of the fittest. If an inmate lacked the strength to defend themselves, they would be butchered, scavenged, and quite literally eaten by the apex predators of the cell blocks.
Klein lowered his wrist, the dark blue glow of the Omnitrix fading back to its dormant state. "A successful stealth infiltration? Alright then." He clicked his tongue, slightly disappointed that he would not get to test out his new Chimera Sui Generis form just yet. But he supposed playing along with the main questline had its own merits.
"Clearance accepted," the synthetic voice of the Incarceron AI droned through the speakers. "Please proceed to Hangar Bay 4, located in the Environmental Waste Disposal sector."
"Environmental Waste Disposal sector..." Klein crossed his arms, shooting a highly skeptical look at the older man. "Grandpa Max, exactly what kind of fake identity did you register us under?"
He asked the question, but deep down, Klein already knew the answer.
Max rubbed the back of his neck, offering a sheepish, strained smile. "Uh... sanitation engineers?"
Judging by the slight wince in the old plumber's voice, 'sanitation engineer'was a very generous euphemism for'garbage men'.
"Sanitation engineers?!" a furious roar echoed from the corridor.
Vilgax, who had paused mid-flee upon hearing the alarms stop, stomped back into the cockpit. His crimson eyes were practically bulging out of his skull. "You expect me, Vilgax, Conqueror of Ten Worlds, to masquerade as a lowly cleaner?!"
Klein turned slowly. He looked the towering warlord up and down, his gaze terrifyingly thoughtful. "You do not want to be a cleaner?"
A sudden, icy chill shot straight down Vilgax's spine. Every survival instinct he possessed screamed at him to back down, but his monumental pride forced his jaw to lock. "That is correct!" he barked stubbornly.
The moment the words left his mouth, panic set in. He opened his mouth to quickly justify his refusal—mostly because he was acutely aware that if he pushed too hard, Klein would not hesitate to slice him into fresh octopus sashimi.
"No. Stop." Klein held up a single finger, cutting the warlord off before he could utter a single syllable. "You do not need to say anything else."
"No! I demand to speak!" Vilgax protested, his tentacles flaring in distress. He needed to make it very clear that being turned into seafood was off the table. "I... If I am not a cleaner, then what role am I supposed to play?!"
His bluster instantly evaporated as Klein leveled a dead, unblinking stare at him. The sheer weight of that look forced the rest of Vilgax's complaints back down his throat.
"The mop," Klein answered simply. His expression was the picture of absolute logic. If the giant squid did not want to be the one holding the cleaning supplies, then he could be the cleaning supplies. It was only fair.
Vilgax froze.
The good news: he was not going to be diced into sashimi.
The bad news: he was being demoted to a wet floor utensil. The sheer, catastrophic loss of face was staggering. Suddenly, the title of 'sanitation engineer' sounded like a prestigious military rank.
The Conqueror of Ten Worlds swallowed hard. His broad shoulders slumped in defeat.
"Um..." Vilgax cleared his throat awkwardly, refusing to meet anyone's eyes. "Did I ever happen to mention that, prior to my glorious conquest of the universe... I was actually quite passionate about custodial work?"
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