The van rolled to a stop beside the Rust Bucket.
Six figures emerged, moving with disciplined precision. Each wore full plate armor emblazoned with an infinity symbol on the chest, the mark of the Forever Knights. Their weapons were no antique relics either. Energy-tipped laser lances hummed with barely contained power, medieval aesthetics married to alien technology.
They positioned themselves at the RV's blind side, using the wall behind it to shield their approach from any pedestrians who might wander past. Not that it mattered, the street was empty, as if luck itself had abandoned this stretch of road.
The lead knight stepped forward and rapped his gauntleted fist against the door. Three sharp knocks. His tone was deliberately polite, calculated to disarm.
"Excuse me? We're from the ice cream shop down the street. Are you the guardian of those two children? I'm afraid there's been an accident, "
Inside the Rust Bucket, Max Tennyson approached the door with cautious steps. His instincts, honed by decades of Plumber training, screamed that something was wrong. But the mention of Ben and Gwen sent a spike of parental fear through his chest.
BANG!
The door flew open.
Max found himself staring not at concerned shop employees, but at six armored warriors. Energy lances leveled at his chest. Visored helmets concealing any trace of humanity.
He stumbled backward, his expression shifting from confusion to hard-edged wariness. "Who are you? We haven't done anything to, "
"Silence."
The lead knight stepped into the RV, pressing the crackling tip of his lance against Max's throat. The energy field made the old man's skin prickle with dangerous heat.
Max froze. He'd faced worse in his younger days, but he wasn't twenty anymore, and these weren't amateurs. Their formation was tight, their movements professional. Military. Trained.
"Grandpa!"
Ben scrambled up from the back of the RV where he'd been playing video games, his face twisting with fury when he saw the scene. His hand immediately went to the arc reactor embedded in his chest, the power source for the armor Asher had built him.
"Let him go!" Ben shouted, palm glowing with charging energy. "I'm warning you, "
"Don't."
The knight pressed the lance harder against Max's neck, drawing a thin line of blood. His voice was cold, utterly without mercy. "Move again, boy, and your grandfather dies. I don't make idle threats."
Ben's hand trembled. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to fight, to prove he could be a hero like Asher. But the image of that blade slicing through Grandpa Max's throat...
He lowered his hand.
"Good choice." The knight's helmet tilted almost approvingly.
Max's eyes burned with helpless anger. "Ben, don't listen to them! Transform, use the armor, "
CRACK!
A swift, precise strike to the back of Max's skull. The old Plumber crumpled to the floor, unconscious before he hit the ground.
"GRANDPA!"
Ben lunged forward, but two knights intercepted him instantly. Armored hands clamped around his arms like vices, lifting him bodily off the floor.
"You said you wouldn't hurt him!" Ben screamed, thrashing uselessly against their grip.
"He's alive." The lead knight sounded almost bored. "Unconscious is simply more convenient for transport. Now, stop struggling, or we'll be less gentle with you."
Ben's resistance died as he checked Max's breathing. Still alive. Just knocked out.
For now.
The knights dragged Ben toward the van with brutal efficiency. The entire operation had taken less than three minutes. No witnesses. No alarms. Just another quiet afternoon on an unremarkable street.
As they loaded Ben into the vehicle, the lead knight activated his communicator.
"First objective secured. Target designation: Ben Tennyson. Proceeding to rendezvous point. What's the status on the other team?"
Static crackled, then a response, "Team Two is in position. Targets have been located at the ice cream shop. Engaging now."
"Excellent. Do not underestimate the Omnitrix wielder. Disable his transformation capability before he can react."
"Understood. We know what we're doing."
The van's engine roared to life.
Ben pressed his face against the tinted window, watching the Rust Bucket shrink into the distance. Grandpa Max was still inside, unconscious and alone.
Asher, Ben thought desperately. Gwen. Be careful,
Two blocks away, Asher finally reached the front of the ice cream line.
After what felt like an eternity of waiting, he allowed himself a small sigh of relief. Beside him, Gwen bounced impatiently on her heels, the Charm of Luck glowing faintly beneath her shirt.
"Finally!" Asher stepped up to the counter, a genuine smile crossing his face. "I'll take a milk-flavored cone with chocolate... actually, just give me the largest sundae you've got. Whatever's popular."
The shop owner chuckled at his enthusiasm. "Coming right up, kid!"
The man began assembling an impressive tower of ice cream, scooping with practiced efficiency. Asher reached out to accept the finished product,
SCREECH!
A van skidded to a halt directly beside the shop. The sound was so abrupt, so out of place, that every customer in line turned to stare.
Asher's hand froze mid-reach.
His enhanced reflexes, courtesy of the Omnitrix's genetic enhancements, sent warning signals flooding through his nervous system. Every instinct screamed danger.
CRASH!
The van doors exploded outward.
Six figures in medieval armor burst from the vehicle, laser lances already raised and crackling with deadly energy. They moved in perfect synchronization, fanning out to surround the shop's entrance.
The fastest knight was already airborne, his lance thrusting directly at Asher's extended right wrist.
"Disable the alien weapon first!" he shouted. "Don't give him time to transform!"
Time seemed to slow.
Asher's pupils contracted as the lance tip screamed toward the Omnitrix. The knight's attack was precise, surgical, even. They knew exactly what they were targeting and why.
These aren't random thugs, Asher realized in that frozen instant. They're professionals. They've studied us. They know about the Omnitrix.
His gene-enhanced reflexes kicked in.
At the last possible moment, Asher threw himself backward, yanking his right arm away from the lance's trajectory. The weapon's energy tip missed his wrist by less than an inch, close enough to feel the heat searing his skin.
SPLAT!
The ice cream sundae exploded across the counter, destroyed by the lance strike. The shop owner yelped and dove behind his register.
"He dodged?!" The knight recovered instantly, spinning his weapon for a follow-up strike. "Spread formation! All units engage, don't let him activate that device!"
The other five knights surged forward, lances forming a deadly web of overlapping attack zones.
Screams erupted from the ice cream line.
"ROBBERS!"
"They've got weapons, real weapons!"
"RUN! GET OUT OF HERE!"
Civilians scattered in every direction, abandoning their places in line. A few concerned citizens hesitated, looking like they wanted to help the two children being attacked, but one look at the knights' alien-tech weaponry sent them fleeing with the rest.
"Asher!" Gwen grabbed his hand, and the Charm of Luck blazed with sudden brilliance. "This way, move!"
She pulled him sideways just as three lances converged on the spot where he'd been standing. The weapons carved deep gouges into the pavement, missing their target by mere inches.
Thank god for that charm, Asher thought, his heart hammering.
But he couldn't keep dodging forever.
The knights were too coordinated, too well-trained. Every time he tried to raise his right arm toward the Omnitrix, another lance thrust toward his wrist. They were specifically preventing him from activating a transformation.
"Gwen, keep moving!" Asher shouted, ducking under a horizontal slash. "I need time to transform, just a few seconds!"
"I'm trying!" Gwen yanked him around a corner, then reversed direction when two knights blocked their escape route. The Charm of Luck pulsed frantically, guiding her instincts through a maze of near-misses. "They're everywhere!"
The lead knight pressed his advantage, his lance a blur of deadly precision.
"You're impressive for a child," he admitted, his voice distorted by his helmet's modulator. "But you're outmatched. Surrender the Omnitrix peacefully, and no one has to die."
"Not happening!" Asher snarled.
He made a desperate lunge for the Omnitrix's faceplate. His palm slammed down on the activation dial,
CLANG!
A lance smashed into his forearm, knocking his hand away before he could complete the motion. Pain exploded through Asher's arm as the impact sent him sprawling.
The holographic interface had flickered to life for just an instant, but he hadn't been able to select an alien, let alone complete the transformation.
"Persistent." The knight loomed over him, lance raised for a disabling strike. "But ultimately futile."
Asher stared up at the weapon, his mind racing.
No time to transform.
No backup coming.
And six professional killers standing between him and any hope of escape.
The Omnitrix's screen glowed against his wrist, so close, yet impossibly far.
Come on, Asher thought desperately. 'Come ON...'