Howell stood outside the door of the Rust Bucket, completely unaware that he was dancing on the razor's edge of oblivion.
"Hello!" he called out, his voice cracking with nervous energy. "I'm here to provide some information! I'm not a threat, please, just hear me out!"
His words carried through the RV's thin walls.
Inside, Grey Matter froze.
The tiny Galvan's enormous eyes widened as he activated something no ordinary being possessed, a Memory Palace of extraordinary depth and precision. Within that mental construct, countless voices swirled together in a symphony of data: anime characters from his previous life, conversations from countless encounters in this world, every voice he'd ever catalogued...
Howell's voice entered the comparison matrix.
No match. No match. No match.
The system cycled through thousands of vocal patterns in milliseconds, rejecting each one until,
Match confirmed.
Grey Matter's photographic memory pulled forth a specific file from the deepest archives of his consciousness. This was the man who, in the original timeline, had provided the Forever Knights with footage of Ben's transformations. The same man who had later been unable to stomach the Knights' cruelty and ultimately helped their captive escape.
Not a good person, exactly. But one with a conscience buried somewhere beneath his obsession with fame and alien discovery.
"Open the door," Grey Matter said, his high-pitched voice carrying absolute authority despite its small volume. "He's here to help us."
Max and Gwen exchanged bewildered glances.
One second, the tiny grey alien had been preparing for a siege, air rifle loaded, improvised explosive device armed, every possible defensive measure in place. Now he wanted to invite a stranger inside?
"Trust me," Grey Matter continued, reading their confusion. "There's a high probability he has intelligence we need. Information about where they've taken Ben."
They couldn't understand the source of his certainty, but Grey Matter's confident demeanor was impossible to ignore. Over the past weeks, they'd learned that when Asher spoke with that particular tone, he was usually right.
Max reluctantly lowered his weapon and moved to open the door.
Howell Wainwright stood on the other side, looking like a deer caught in headlights. He was a young man with brown hair, square glasses, and the general appearance of someone who'd spent far too much time in basements researching conspiracy theories.
"Y-You must be the grandfather!" Howell stammered, his eyes darting nervously between Max's face and the weapon still in his hand. His expression was a complicated mixture of guilt and desperate hope. "I'm so sorry, I never meant for any of this to, "
"Save it," Max said gruffly, though his voice had lost some of its edge. "You said you have information. Get inside and talk."
Howell practically stumbled through the doorway, his gaze sweeping across the interior of the Rust Bucket. When his eyes landed on Grey Matter perched on the counter, his jaw dropped.
"The... the big orange creature is gone?" he whispered, clearly remembering the terrifying Wildmutt that had torn through the Forever Knights earlier. "And now there's... this little..."
Then he noticed the weapons array spread across the table. The air rifle. The improvised explosive. Various other implements of defensive mayhem.
Cold sweat erupted across his forehead.
Grey Matter cleared his throat, which produced an adorably squeaky sound that somewhat undercut the tension. "As tourists traveling through dangerous territory, it's perfectly reasonable for us to carry some legitimate self-defense equipment. Wouldn't you agree?"
"Y-Yes! Absolutely!" Howell forced a smile that looked more like a grimace. "Completely reasonable!"
Max handed him a glass of water, which Howell accepted with trembling hands. After taking a long drink, he settled into a seat and seemed to gather himself.
"Tell us everything," Grey Matter commanded, his enormous eyes fixed unblinkingly on the nervous man.
Howell took a deep breath and began.
"At the water park, I saw those strangely dressed men following your family. The ones in the dark vans." His voice steadied as he spoke, falling into the rhythm of confession. "I followed them. Watched them track you here. Then I saw them take the boy, your grandson, I assume."
He paused, swallowing hard.
Grey Matter's expression didn't change. He'd already deduced most of this, but there was no need to reveal exactly how much he knew. "Do you know where they've taken him?"
"I... yes." Howell nodded frantically. "I can show you. I'll drive, I have a license."
The offer hung in the air.
By unspoken agreement, neither Max nor Grey Matter pressed Howell on the obvious question: Why did he know where the Forever Knights' base was located? How had he obtained that information?
Some truths were better left unexamined until the mission was complete.
Gwen, young enough to lack that tactical wisdom, opened her mouth to ask, but a sharp look from her grandfather silenced her.
Howell moved to the driver's seat, and with Max's permission, started the Rust Bucket's engine. The old RV rumbled to life, and they pulled away from their temporary sanctuary.
The journey passed in tense silence.
Howell attempted small talk a few times, asking questions about the "super beast" he'd seen earlier and the tiny grey creature now sitting on the dashboard. Grey Matter calculated the Omnitrix's remaining transformation time with each passing minute, knowing he'd need to change back before they arrived.
When the timer approached critical levels, he asked Howell to pull over.
"Bathroom break," Grey Matter announced.
He hopped down from the dashboard and waddled toward the RV's small bathroom with as much dignity as his six-inch frame could muster. The door closed behind him, and moments later, a flash of green light leaked through the cracks.
Asher emerged in his human form, stretching muscles that had been compressed into Galvan proportions.
Howell stared through the rearview mirror, his eyes round as dinner plates. "How did... what just..."
"Trade secret," Asher said flatly, retaking his seat. "Keep driving."
Wisely, Howell didn't push for answers.
The remainder of the trip proceeded without incident, though the atmosphere remained heavy with unspoken words and barely contained anxiety. Finally, the Rust Bucket rolled to a stop.
"We're here." Howell's voice had gone quiet, almost reverential. "This is one of the Forever Knights' secondary installations. But don't let that fool you, it's as heavily fortified as any of their main strongholds."
Asher moved to the window, his Omnitrix already fully recharged. What he saw made his stomach drop.
It wasn't a building.
It was a fortress.
Massive stone walls rose from the earth like something transported directly from medieval Europe. Towers jutted skyward at strategic intervals, each one no doubt equipped with both ancient architecture and cutting-edge alien technology. The entire compound sprawled across the landscape with the confident permanence of an institution that had existed for centuries.
Because it probably had.
Armored figures patrolled the perimeter in precise formation. Even from this distance, Asher could see the glint of energy weapons disguised as polearms and swords. The Forever Knights took their medieval aesthetic seriously, but the technology they wielded was anything but primitive.
"The Forever Knights have been collecting alien technology for over a thousand years," Howell whispered, as if reading Asher's thoughts. "They've had time to perfect their defenses. This place is considered impregnable even by their own standards."
Max's expression had hardened into something dangerous. "Impregnable or not, my grandson is in there."
"What's our approach?" Gwen asked, her hand unconsciously moving to touch the Charm of Luck hanging at her throat.
Asher studied the fortress with the calculating eye of someone who had faced impossible odds before. His mind raced through tactical scenarios, evaluating and discarding options at superhuman speed.
"The defenses are the most severe I've ever encountered," he admitted. "No blind spots. Overlapping patrol routes. Probably sensor grids and magical wards on top of the physical security." He shook his head slowly. "A mouse couldn't sneak through there undetected. Maybe a cockroach, if it was lucky."
"Then we don't sneak," Max said, his voice going flat and hard. "We go in loud. Draw their attention, fight our way through."
"No." Asher's response was immediate and firm. "If we attack directly, they'll know exactly why we're here. They'll move Ben to a more secure location or use him as a hostage. All their defensive resources will concentrate on protecting their prize while we waste time fighting through cannon fodder."
The logic was sound, but it left them at an impasse.
Silence stretched through the RV as everyone processed the seeming impossibility of the situation.
Then Howell spoke up, his voice barely above a whisper.
"What if the attacker posed no real threat to the Knights themselves, but caused enough chaos to disrupt their formations? Drew attention away from the actual rescue team?"
Asher turned to look at him, reassessing the man with new interest. "Explain."
"The Forever Knights are intelligent," Howell continued, gaining confidence as he spoke. "Tactically sophisticated. If someone attacks and they assess that person as non-threatening, they won't bother relocating a valuable prisoner. Why risk moving the asset when the threat level doesn't justify it? Better to keep the target secure in place while dealing with the nuisance."
The reasoning was sound.
"We need a distraction," Asher said slowly, the plan crystallizing in his mind. "Someone who can create chaos and draw attention, but who the Knights will ultimately dismiss as a minor annoyance rather than a genuine threat to their operation."
"I'll do it."
Everyone turned to Max.
The old man's face had set into lines of absolute determination. "Ben is my grandson. If someone needs to put themselves in danger to get him back, it should be me."
"Grandpa, " Gwen started.
"No arguments." Max was already moving toward the driver's seat, exchanging places with Howell. "I'll ram through their front gate, make as much noise as possible, keep them busy. Asher, you and Gwen find another way in while they're focused on me. Get Ben out."
"Understood." Asher nodded without hesitation. He knew better than to argue with that tone. Besides, Max was right, he was the logical choice for this role.
"Got it, Grandpa." Gwen's voice was steady despite the fear in her eyes. She trusted her grandfather. Trusted Asher. That would have to be enough.
Howell, who had been watching this family mobilize with something like wonder on his face, felt a strange emotion stirring in his chest.
These people, a retired grandfather, a couple of children, were preparing to assault a fortress full of armed knights for the sake of a single boy. No hesitation. No debate about the odds. Just pure, unwavering determination.
Why am I not as brave as a pair of kids?
The thought burned through his cowardice like acid.
He was young. Fit. Capable. And he was the reason Ben had been captured in the first place. His footage, his tip-off to the Forever Knights, had led directly to this moment.
If these children could face death to save their family, what was his excuse?
"I'm coming too."
The words left his mouth before he could think better of them.
Max raised an eyebrow. "You don't have to, "
"Yes, I do." Howell's voice had found steel somewhere in its depths. "What they're going to do to that boy in there... I've seen enough of the Knights' 'collection methods' to know what's coming. I won't have a child's blood on my conscience."
He met each of their eyes in turn.
"This is my mess. Let me help clean it up."
Asher studied the man for a long moment, then gave a single nod of acknowledgment. Whatever Howell's sins, he was choosing to stand up now. That counted for something.
"Alright," Asher said, turning back to the window and the impossible fortress beyond. "Here's what we're going to do..."