Gwen emerged from the Halloween store wearing a sleek purple and black cat mask paired with a matching ranger-style outfit. The ensemble gave her an air of mystery that hadn't existed moments before, she looked less like a bookish ten-year-old and more like someone who belonged in the pages of a comic book.
Asher and the others climbed out of the Rust Bucket to watch as she strode confidently toward the group of thugs still harassing the shopkeeper.
Ben crossed his arms and gave Asher a skeptical look. "Look, I know what I said earlier about heroes needing power was harsh, but it's true. Being a hero isn't about luck, it's about having this." He tapped the reactor housing on his chest, the one they'd been working on together. "You need real power to make a difference."
"Just watch." Asher shook his head, a knowing smile playing at his lips. "That charm isn't some cheap trinket. It chose her for a reason."
Across the street, Gwen planted her feet and called out to the criminals in a voice far bolder than her usual tone. "Hey! You think you can just steal from people in broad daylight? Not while Lucky Girl's around!"
The thugs turned, and for a moment, they simply stared.
Then they burst out laughing.
"Lucky Girl?" One of them wheezed, clutching his stomach. "What are you supposed to be, kid? Some kind of superhero wannabe?"
"Did you read too many comic books and decide to play dress-up?" Another sneered, gold teeth glinting in the afternoon light. "Run along before you get hurt, little sister."
"Yeah, the grown-ups are working here. Scram."
They dismissed her entirely, turning back to the terrified shopkeeper like she wasn't even worth the effort of intimidation.
A muscle twitched in Gwen's jaw. She bent down, scooped up a small stone from the sidewalk, and hurled it with surprising accuracy.
Thwack!
It struck one of the thugs square between the shoulder blades.
"OW!" He whirled around, rage twisting his features as he rubbed the impact point. "You little brat! You're gonna regret that!"
"Get her!" another shouted. "Teach this kid a lesson about minding her own business!"
"And when we're done," the gold-toothed one added with a nasty grin, "maybe she can come for a ride with us. Show her what happens to nosy girls."
All of them turned their attention to Gwen now, stalking toward her with menacing intent.
From his position by the Rust Bucket, Asher's eyes narrowed dangerously. His hand drifted toward the Omnitrix, ready to intervene the moment things went too far. If any of them laid a finger on her, they'd find out exactly how fast XLR8 could move, or how terrifying Ghostfreak could be when properly motivated.
But for now, he held back. This was Gwen's moment.
"Come on then!" Gwen beckoned them forward, settling into something that almost resembled a fighting stance. Her lack of formal combat training was obvious, but there was a determined set to her shoulders that hadn't been there before.
The first thug lunged at her with a wild grab.
Gwen dodged sideways, not with any particular skill, just a simple step to the left. But somehow, impossibly, it was exactly the right move. The thug's momentum carried him past her, and his foot caught on an uneven crack in the sidewalk. He pitched forward and slammed face-first into the concrete with a sickening crunch.
He didn't get back up.
"The charm," Asher breathed, watching intently. He could actually see it now, the faint purple glow emanating from the pendant around Gwen's neck, its magic reaching out to shift probability in her favor. "It's working."
"Useless!" One of the remaining thugs snarled at his fallen companion. "Can't even grab one little girl?"
They spread out, trying to surround her. Fists flew. Kicks were thrown. And every single attack missed.
It wasn't that Gwen was fast, she wasn't. It wasn't that she was skilled, she definitely wasn't. But every time a punch came her way, she happened to lean in just the right direction. Every kick found only empty air as she stumbled backward at precisely the correct moment. One thug swung at her head and somehow managed to clock his buddy in the jaw instead.
Within thirty seconds, the criminals were sporting more injuries than they'd started with. Black eyes. Split lips. Bloody noses. All self-inflicted through the most improbable series of accidents and friendly fire incidents.
"What the hell is going on?!" The gold-toothed leader backed away, genuine fear creeping into his voice. "We can't touch her!"
Gwen's confidence had been growing with each failed attack, and now she wore a smile that bordered on predatory beneath her mask. "I told you," she said sweetly. "I'm Lucky Girl. And luck is always on my side."
She threw a weak, almost casual kick, the kind that shouldn't have done anything to anyone. But it connected perfectly with one thug's chin, snapping his head back. Another flailing attempt caught a different criminal right in a very sensitive area. He dropped like a stone, squealing.
From the sidelines, Ben's jaw hung open. "Is that... is that really Gwen? Our Gwen? The one who reads encyclopedias for fun?"
Max said nothing, but his weathered face had gone pale. He'd encountered the Charms of Bezel during his Plumber days, he knew exactly how dangerous they could be. And how addictive.
Asher, meanwhile, was grinning ear to ear. This was better than he'd hoped. The charm wasn't just making Gwen lucky, it was turning her into a genuine threat. Every movement she made, no matter how clumsy, became devastatingly effective.
Hex has no idea what's coming, he thought with savage satisfaction. And when he does show up to reclaim his precious charm... well. He's going to find more than he bargained for.
His hands curled into fists at his sides.
"A corpse wizard, huh?" Asher muttered under his breath, too quiet for the others to hear. "I've already decided. I'm not just taking the Archamada Book of Spells from you. I want all of your charms. Every single one. They're mine now."
Somewhere across the city, Hex, floating through the twilight sky on his way to track down his stolen property, suddenly sneezed violently.
"Hmph." He wiped his nose with the back of his hand, scowling. "Perhaps one of the wretched souls I've sent to the afterlife is cursing my name."
No matter. The charm came first. Everything else was secondary.
Back at the scene of the fight, the last of the thugs had finally had enough.
"We give up! We give up!" They scrambled away, tripping over each other in their haste to escape. "Please, Lucky Girl, Lucky Goddess, whatever you want to be called! Just let us go!"
"Remember this feeling," Gwen called after them as they fled. "And think twice before you try to rob anyone else in this city!"
The shopkeeper who'd been robbed approached cautiously, his eyes wide with wonder. "Thank you! Thank you so much!" He clasped his hands together gratefully. "I thought only alien heroes protected this city, I never imagined there'd be someone like you!"
"I'm just doing what's right." Gwen's voice was warm beneath the mask. "But I'm not the only one you should thank."
Her gaze drifted past him, finding Asher where he leaned against the Rust Bucket's door. Something soft entered her expression, gratitude, admiration, and perhaps something more. Without the charm, she never would have had the courage to step up. Without Asher's faith in her, she never would have tried.
She walked away from the grateful shopkeeper and crossed the street in quick strides. Before Asher could say anything, Gwen threw her arms around him in a tight hug. A faint floral scent clung to her, light and sweet, mixing with the lingering adrenaline.
"Thank you, Asher," she whispered against his shoulder. "Without you, Lucky Girl wouldn't exist."
"Hey, you did all the work." He kept his voice casual, though a faint flush crept up his neck. His arms remained awkwardly at his sides, he wasn't about to hug her back. Not like this. Not when she was still just a kid, even if she was growing into something remarkable.
In a few years, he told himself, when she's older. When she's had time to become the person she's meant to be. Then maybe...
But that was a thought for another day.
"Ahem." Max cleared his throat pointedly, and Gwen jumped back, her cheeks burning beneath her mask. "I hate to interrupt the celebration, but we've got a schedule to keep. There's another museum I wanted to visit tonight, we should get moving."
"Right, right." Gwen ducked into the Rust Bucket to change out of her Lucky Girl costume, carefully folding it away for future use.
The old RV rumbled to life, and the Tennysons continued their journey.
Inside, the conversation inevitably turned back to heroics. Ben was still processing what he'd witnessed, his bookworm cousin effortlessly dismantling a group of criminals through sheer improbable fortune. Meanwhile, Gwen couldn't stop smiling, her fingers absently touching the charm around her neck.
None of them noticed the figure watching from above.
Hex hovered in the evening sky, his skull-painted face twisted into something between anticipation and malice. He'd been tracking the charm's magical signature for hours, and now he could sense it clearly, moving away from him, heading toward...
"The Statue Museum," he murmured, consulting the arcane symbols dancing in his palm. "They're going to the Statue Museum."
A slow, terrible smile spread across his painted features.
That particular museum housed several medieval exhibits. Stone gargoyles. Ancient demon statues. The sculpted forms of death itself, frozen in granite and marble.
Perfect.
"Let them come," Hex whispered, dark energy swirling around his clenched fists. "That museum will become their tomb. And when I reclaim my charm..."
He didn't finish the thought. He didn't need to.
The Tennysons had no idea what was waiting for them.