The Forever Knights drew their blades from their shattered armor, cold steel glinting in the light.
But they didn't aim at Wildmutt.
They aimed at their own throats.
Blood sprayed across the pavement.
Wildmutt released the bodies, stumbling backward in shock. His gill-slits flared as he stared at the fallen knights, their expressions frozen in grim determination even in death.
Of all the enemies he'd faced, Vilgax's robots, Kevin's fury, Hex's dark magic, none had ever done this. None had embraced death so readily, so completely, without hesitation or regret.
What kind of fanatics am I dealing with? Asher thought, his enhanced senses recoiling from the lingering scent of iron. Who could command this level of loyalty?
The answer terrified him more than the act itself.
Wildmutt shook off his horror and launched himself toward the Rust Bucket. Whatever organization controlled these knights had clearly trained them to die rather than surrender information. That spoke to resources, discipline, and ruthlessness on a scale he hadn't anticipated.
Somewhere in the shadows, the Eternal Knight received the disconnection notice from his operatives. He didn't mourn their deaths, such sacrifices were expected, even honored. His only regret was the mission's failure.
At least the other team succeeded, he mused, reviewing the incoming reports. One Tennyson child secured. That will have to be enough for now.
Wildmutt arrived at the Rust Bucket within seconds, his enhanced hearing picking up nothing but silence from inside. No heartbeats. No breathing. No movement.
No, wait. One heartbeat. Slow. Unconscious.
His spider-sense tingled with residual danger, but the immediate threat had passed. The RV's door hung slightly open, and the air carried traces of metal, ozone, and violence.
"Grrrrowl!" Wildmutt bounded through the entrance and found Max crumpled on the floor, a thin line of dried blood on his temple. Ben was nowhere to be seen.
No. No, no, no,
"Hoohoho!" Wildmutt pressed his muzzle against Max's chest, feeling the steady rhythm beneath. Alive. Unconscious, but alive.
He nudged the old man gently, desperate to wake him.
"Ben, don't listen to them!"
Max's eyes snapped open as he shot upright, arms flailing at invisible attackers. His voice was hoarse with panic, still trapped in the nightmare of moments ago.
Wildmutt stepped back, giving him space to breathe.
Max blinked rapidly, his military training slowly reasserting control over his racing heart. He recognized the orange fur and eyeless face immediately. "Asher?"
A low growl of confirmation.
The old Plumber's expression crumbled. "A group of armored soldiers... they used me as a hostage. Threatened to kill me if Ben resisted." He pressed a weathered hand against his eyes. "They took him, Asher. They took my grandson, and I couldn't do a damn thing about it."
The guilt in his voice was crushing.
"I'm getting old," Max whispered. "Too old. I can't even protect my own family anymore."
Grandpa... Asher's heart ached for the man. He knew that feeling, that helpless fury when someone you loved was in danger and you couldn't reach them.
The armored knights again. The same ones he'd fought at the ice cream shop. They'd coordinated a two-pronged assault, one team to distract while the other captured their real target.
Before Wildmutt could respond, footsteps approached the RV. Gwen appeared in the doorway, breathless and pale. Her eyes widened at the scene, Grandpa Max on the floor, Asher in Wildmutt form, and Ben conspicuously absent.
"What happened?! Where's Ben?!"
As Wildmutt reverted to human form in a flash of emerald light, the three of them pieced together the full picture. Asher explained the knights' suicides; Max described the ambush. Gwen's face grew paler with each detail.
"Those soldiers committed suicide rather than be captured?" She looked physically ill. "That's... that's insane. Who does that?"
"A cult," Max said grimly. "Or something worse. An organization with absolute control over its members."
"We need to find out who they are," Asher said, already reaching for his laptop. "Maybe the internet can, "
Three minutes of furious searching later, they had nothing.
"This is useless!" Gwen slammed her palm against the table. "They all wore matching armor with some kind of infinity symbol, they used high-tech energy weapons, and nobody knows anything about them?"
"That's not surprising," Max admitted. "Organizations like this operate in the shadows. They wouldn't leave digital footprints for anyone to find."
Asher clenched his fists, frustration building. Every second they wasted was another second Ben spent in enemy hands. Those fanatics had already proven they'd die for their cause, what might they do to a prisoner?
"No," he said through gritted teeth. "We're not giving up. Just give me a few more minutes."
His fingers hovered over the Omnitrix.
Come on. Recharge faster.
The device pulsed green.
Asher twisted the dial, scrolling through holographic silhouettes until he found the one he needed. A small, diminutive figure with oversized eyes and incredible intelligence.
He slammed his palm down.
The transformation was instantaneous, his body shrinking, his mind expanding exponentially. Neural pathways that usually processed information at human speeds suddenly accelerated a thousandfold. In the span of a heartbeat, Grey Matter processed and discarded a dozen potential search strategies.
Standard internet won't work. These people are too careful. But there are other networks...
Grey Matter's tiny feet pattered across the keyboard at blinding speed. His enhanced intellect guided his fingers to encrypted channels, hidden servers, and finally,
The dark web.
The screen shifted to a black background with a single search bar. No branding. No advertisements. Just pure, anonymous functionality.
Grey Matter typed in a query based on the armored warriors' distinctive appearance: medieval plate armor, infinity symbols, energy-based weaponry, fanatical loyalty. The search algorithm churned through terabytes of classified information.
"Gwen," Grey Matter squeaked in his high-pitched voice, "click the search button."
She obliged.
The results loaded instantly.
THE FOREVER KNIGHTS
"What kind of organization is this?" Gwen leaned closer to the screen, her brow furrowed. "It sounds like something out of a fantasy novel."
Grey Matter's oversized eyes gleamed with recognition. His enhanced memory had already cross-referenced the name with everything stored in his brain, fragments of conversations, half-remembered news reports, classified Plumber files he'd glimpsed during his time with Grandpa Max.
"The Forever Knights," he announced, his squeaky voice carrying surprising authority. "A secret society dedicated to collecting alien technology and artifacts. They've existed for centuries, maybe longer. And they're extremely dangerous."
"How do you know all that?" Gwen asked, impressed despite herself.
"This form has an IQ that makes Einstein look like a preschooler. Cross-referencing available data takes approximately 0.3 seconds."
Max nodded slowly. "I've heard rumors about them during my Plumber days. Never encountered them directly, but the stories... they're not good. Ruthless, well-funded, and completely obsessed with alien technology."
"That explains why they wanted Ben," Asher realized. "The Omnitrix. They must have learned about it somehow and decided to acquire it."
But we don't have Omnitrixes, Ben has the reactor suit. Unless...
His enhanced mind raced through possibilities. Had the Forever Knights mistaken Ben for the Omnitrix wielder? Or were they after the reactor technology instead? Either way, the result was the same.
Ben was in enemy hands.
"Let me search for more specific information," Grey Matter said, his fingers becoming a blur across the keyboard. "Location, hierarchy, known bases of operation..."
The search results were frustratingly sparse. Every website, every database, every encrypted forum, none of them contained actionable intelligence. Just rumors, speculation, and dead ends.
"Their security is extraordinary," Grey Matter admitted, genuine frustration creeping into his voice. "Even for the dark web. I can confirm the organization exists and that someone called the 'Eternal Knight' appears to be a high-ranking member, but beyond that..."
"Nothing," Gwen finished, her shoulders slumping.
Max rubbed his temples. "Should we contact the Plumbers? They might have better intelligence networks, "
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Everyone froze.
Three knocks at the door. Polite. Almost hesitant.
Grey Matter's pupils contracted to pinpricks. His mind instantly calculated probabilities: the Forever Knights had already proven they could deceive Max with a fake distress call. Was this another trap?
He whispered urgently, "Everyone get ready. They fooled Grandpa Max by knocking last time."
The atmosphere in the RV shifted from despair to combat readiness in an instant.
Gwen's hand went to the Charm of Luck around her neck, magical energy already gathering at her fingertips. Max grabbed an air rifle from Asher's personal gear, not much against armored knights, but better than nothing. And Grey Matter...
Grey Matter's tiny hands moved with impossible speed, assembling components from the electronics scattered around the RV. Wires. Capacitors. A timing mechanism. Within seconds, he'd constructed a functional time-delayed explosive.
It wasn't powerful enough to kill anyone in armor, but it would certainly ruin their day.
"Everyone ready?" Max whispered, positioning himself beside the door.
Gwen nodded, her charm pulsing with soft light.
Grey Matter held up his improvised bomb. "On your signal."
Outside the Rust Bucket, Howell Wainwright stood with his fist still raised, trembling from head to toe.
He couldn't get the image out of his head, that massive orange creature with no eyes and too many teeth, descending on the armored knights like an ancient predator. The way it had moved, the sounds it had made... and then the knights themselves, drawing blades across their own throats rather than face capture.
What have I gotten myself into?
He should have walked away. Should have pretended he'd never seen anything, never contacted the Forever Knights, never sent them that footage from the water park.
But he couldn't.
Because those monsters had taken a child. A little boy who couldn't have been older than ten or eleven. And whatever the Forever Knights planned to do with him, Howell was certain it wouldn't be pleasant.
I'm a selfish man, he thought, clenching his shaking hands. I love money. I love fame. I've spent my whole life chasing proof of extraterrestrial life.
But there were lines even he wouldn't cross.
I won't have a child's blood on my hands.
He knocked again, harder this time.
"Please," he called out, trying to keep his voice from cracking. "I know you're in there. I saw what happened. I... I can help."
Silence from within.
Then the door burst open.
Howell found himself staring down the barrel of an air rifle, held by a grim-faced old man with murder in his eyes. Behind him, a red-haired girl crackled with some kind of purple energy. And on the counter,
A tiny grey creature with enormous eyes, holding what looked disturbingly like a bomb.
Howell raised his hands immediately. "Wait! Wait, wait, wait, I'm not with them! I swear!"
"Talk fast," the old man growled. "We're not in a patient mood."
"The Forever Knights," Howell babbled, the words tumbling out in a rush. "That's who took the boy. I contacted them, I gave them footage from the water park, but I didn't know they'd do this. I thought they just wanted to study aliens, not kidnap children!"
The tiny grey creature's eyes narrowed. "You're Howell Wainwright. The alien enthusiast. You've been sending the Forever Knights evidence of extraterrestrial activity for months."
Howell blinked. "How do you know my, "
"Irrelevant. Where is their base? Where would they take a prisoner?"
"I don't know exactly, but, " Howell swallowed hard. "I know someone who might. My contact in the organization. He's been stringing me along for weeks, promising access if I deliver good enough proof. I can reach out to him, try to get a location."
The three occupants of the RV exchanged glances.
"Why should we trust you?" the girl demanded. "You're the reason they knew about us in the first place!"
"Because I'm a lot of things," Howell said quietly, "but I'm not a child killer. And I've seen what the Forever Knights do to the things they collect. Dissection. Experimentation. I won't let that happen to a kid. I can't."
A long moment of tense silence.
Then the old man lowered his rifle, slightly.
"You've got one chance," he said. "One. If this is a trap, I promise you won't live long enough to regret it."
Howell nodded frantically. "Understood. Completely understood."
He pulled out his phone and began composing a message to his Forever Knights contact, praying he wasn't already too late.