Chapter Text
Silence enveloped the car, punctuated only by the hum of the engine as Ben maneuvered them toward Mr. Baumann’s store. Both occupants were lost in their own thoughts, grasping at straws for a conversation starter. The ease of their banter during moments of action felt far removed from the current stillness of their drive, an awkwardness slowly expanding within the cabin's confinements. Dia fought against a rising impulse to fiddle with the car’s window controls, seeking distraction in the chill wafting from the air conditioner. Eventually, the temptation proved too great and she succumbed.
“Ben–” she began.
“Dia–” he interjected simultaneously.
Their little comedic mishap drew light laughter from both, slicing through the tension. With that small break, the atmosphere lightened considerably, and Ben took charge of steering the conversation as well. “As I mentioned earlier, it’s seriously cool that you’ve got an Omnitrix now,” he remarked with his trademark casual ease. A hint of curiosity colored his voice as he asked, “So when did you get it?”
“Honestly? Barely ten minutes before you arrived at the Plumber headquarters... I had been summoned a tad earlier to talk… with Azmuth,” Dia began, her voice trembling slightly with the nerves that prickled her skin as she recalled the conversation with Azmuth. While yes, she had encountered him before in group settings, a face-to-face conversation was completely different. Ben only managed a faint shiver – perhaps a relic of past encounters – yet he remained composed and attentive, silently encouraging her to continue, “We reflected on the events of the past few years, and abruptly, he put forth an offer for me to wear an Omnitrix. And I… accepted without thinking.”
Smirking knowingly,, “Classic Azmuth - orchestrating the whole talk just to gently nudge you towards acceptance. And frankly, also doesn’t surprise me how quickly your transformation into an alien form as you’ve seen me do it a dozen times by now,” Ben remarked with a light chuckle and a knowing nod while pausing at a red traffic signal. Stealing a quick look at Dia and letting out a small grin, he teased, “But let’s get real for a second – it wasn’t me who you told first. No, there are two others far more intimidating for that honor.” His laughter grew as his playful jab hit its mark, manifesting as a blush that spread across her cheeks.
“You should be glad you’re only dating Julie. It’s nerve-wracking to date both Helen and Luhley, doesn’t help when they team up against me when I’m doing something dangerous…which is fair,” Dia retorted with feigned dread, her bright smile contradicting her words, fingers casually grazing her cheek in a nervous gesture. However, truth be told, Ben had hit the nail on the head; she had indeed told Helen and Luhley first—they’d been by her side when she equipped the Omnitrix, “Both were certainly concerned, but maybe a bit relieved that I got something better than an alien pistol. Since that didn’t save me from Vilgax’s heavy-handed blow.” The harrowing memory flickered through her mind vividly—the time Vilgax declared the conqueror's challenge while she was amidst assisting the Plumbers' helpers—not an episode she'd like to relive. They had managed to survive primarily because Vilgax discarded them as nothing more than an intimidating message.
~~~~~~(Flashback)~~~~~~
“Shotgun, I've called it!”
The Rustbucket barrelled down the freeway, charting a trajectory beyond the outskirts of Bellwood. Max had orchestrated an excursion to coach the budding Plumber's Helpers in a tactical exercise, priming them for their eventual ascension to full-time Plumbers. This was in recognition of their valor exhibited in the epic skirmish that erupted when the Highbreed plotted an Earth invasion. Amongst these apprentices was Manny, a being of Tetramand and human lineage who, as he frequently boasted, had secured the front passenger seat.
Seated at the table to Manny's rear, on one flank was Cooper—purely human, yet endowed with the extraordinary gift of technopathy, enabling him to construct and innovate marvels; adjacent to him sat Pierce Wheels, Helen’s brother and a Half-Xerthizon possessing quilled attributes resembling those of a porcupine though maintaining an almost human exterior.
Occupying seats opposite them was Dia. Although not officially part of the Plumber's Helpers, Max had extended an invitation for her presence as an auxiliary mentor given her tenure on Ben's squad. Lately, her time was largely spent in their circle; she preferred this over battling serpentine behemoths at present. Next to her positioned Helen Wheels; unlike her sibling Pierce and more akin to Kincerleran than human, she too manifested traits predominant in a Kinceleran and was in a relationship with Dia.
Relegated to the Rustbucket’s rear were the remaining duo: Alan—with Pyronite blood coursing through his veins provided him the duality of manifesting as either Pyronite or human form—the latter chosen currently to avoid scorching their conveyance. And finally Swift; part-Aerophibian by heritage. Despite her usual reserve and sparing use of words, she cherished the camaraderie within this eclectic ensemble.
“Do you have to persist with that?” Dia exhaled softly, her tone a mix of amusement and mild annoyance at Manny. Their journey had already spanned ten minutes. During the drive, Helen had wrapped an arm around Dia, pulling her snugly to her side in an affectionate embrace, “We heard you; you’ve claimed the front seat.”
“Declaring 'shotgun' just never gets old,” Manny retorted cheerfully, his grin reflecting in the rearview mirror as he glanced back at them. Then, turning his attention to the road ahead, he couldn’t resist but to proclaim it once more. Most of their friends couldn't help but grin at Manny’s antics; Helen and Swift merely gave him wearied glances, though Manny faced them again with a sly grin, “How about you two lovebirds? Didn’t take long to cozy up. Makes me curious if Pierce is ready to play the overprotective brother.”
“Hey, leave me out of this; I’m not playing the overbearing sibling here,” Pierce raised his hands in a gesture of playful surrender amidst their laughter. With a knowing smirk, he gestured jokingly toward Helen, “My main concern is whether having my sister as her girlfriend will make Dia too solemn. We could be at risk of losing the light-hearted Dia we all adore.”
In response to his jest, Helen’s glare was swift before her tail thumped against his leg below the table, prompting Pierce’s surprised yelp. No one really sympathized—after all, he kind of asked for it—and barely concealed sniggers rippled through the group. “Dia won’t lose her sense of fun; that's part of why I adore her so much,” Helen retorted sharply.
“Okay, can we not make this about me? I’m just here for the cuddles,” Dia grumbled with a playfully sullen pout as she burrowed deeper into Helen’s embrace, eliciting a soft blush and an affectionate smile from her girlfriend.
“Alright, team, that will do,” Max said with a light-hearted laugh, his focus on the winding road ahead as he steered the vehicle, ears tuning in to the lively chatter of the young Plumbers in training, “Remember, this is a Plumber’s drill, not a–”
His sentence was cut short by a jarring alert blaring from his dashboard console; a bright green flare on the digital map soon overshadowed by an ominous red silhouette hovering over Bellwood. Swift was quick to query, “What’s happening?”
“It’s a planetary defense warning—those new satellites we deployed just last month are paying off," Max explained while expertly tapping the display to enlarge the view. His demeanor shifted to one of gravity as he identified the threat, "There's an extraterrestrial armada bearing down on Earth. Forget what I said earlier; this isn’t a drill anymore. It’s go time.”
Max’s hands clenched around the steering wheel as he executed a sudden U-turn, sending everyone tumbling unexpectedly. Manny, Pierce, and Helen fared relatively well—only jostled against the van’s interior since they were seated alongside its walls. Swift and Alan nearly toppled to the floor but managed to maintain their grip on their seats. Cooper wasn’t as fortunate and slid towards the floor; however, before he could be sent skidding across the Rustbucket, Pierce swiftly caught him by his shirt.
Dia, meanwhile, found herself abruptly landing in Helen’s lap, narrowly avoiding a collision with the window thanks to Helen’s quick reflexes shielding her head with a hand. Both flushed with embarrassment yet relieved—though that didn't stop Helen from teasing Dia further by caressing her head softly with that same hand while Dia masked her face behind her palms.
In no time at all, Max had whisked them off to Bellwood's epicenter where the park had been encapsulated by a virtual dome projection, with Vilgax posing commandingly at its core, about to declare his dominion. However, they were resolute in their refusal to let him make such a proclamation; still, as things stood, taking him on would not end in their favor.
Initially, Cooper made a beeline for him, summoning the strength of his abilities to craft an imposing crimson mech. He unleashed a volley of missiles at Vilgax, who, with effortless grace, sliced through them using a blade he had come into possession of at some unknown point. The battle escalated when Vilgax fired an energy beam at Cooper’s mech—the young hero narrowly escaping the destruction thanks to Helen's swift intervention. She tore him from the confines of his mechanical giant and whisked him back to safety moments before it erupted in flames.
Owing to her daring rescue, Helen drew Vilgax's ire as he launched optic beams—a new trick up his sleeve which Dia noted he'd never used before—at her with relentless precision akin to a certain nemesis from DC lore. Even as Helen was pursued by the malignant beams, Vilgax’s concentration faltered when he was unexpectedly struck in the face by an energy blast, diverting his attack long enough to send Helen tumbling down but miraculously without serious harm, leaving her merely stunned on the ground.
Subsequently, Manny paired with Swift for a joint assault. Manny’s strategy was blatant and predictable—when he charged forward, Vilgax snatched him mid-leap and hurled him towards Swift who was gracefully soaring in to commence her laser barrage. Unfortunately for them both, their efforts culminated in a tangled heap against a tree trunk. Then came Alan's moment; fireballs hurled from his hands found their mark upon Vilgax but were rendered futile as Vilgax exhaled a colossal gust that sent Alan careening backwards and extinguishing his own flames on impact.
Pierce tried to fling his quills at Vilgax, but they either ricocheted or broke upon impact, being thrown off his feet as Vilgax stomped, sending debris flying, with one piece striking him in the abdomen and leaving him wounded on the ground. Max managed to get within range by employing an I.D. mask to turn himself invisible, shooting at Vilgax with his pistol when close enough, but it was futile as Vilgax swatted him away, carefully not exerting his full strength – just enough to render Max unconscious.
"I'm aware there's one more among you," Vilgax jeered, amused by the sight of Max tumbling on the ground from his assault, savoring how effortlessly he was defeating them one after another. He didn't need his full might; he merely wanted to send a message. Disregarding his overwhelmed adversaries, he scanned his surroundings in search of a recognizable face from a previous encounter, "Reveal yourself, Dia Shaw."
The silence persisted for a brief moment before a brilliant flash and a plasma bolt materialized out of nowhere beneath Vilgax's face. Caught off guard, he was unable to react swiftly enough as it struck him. He howled in agony as the intense heat rendered one eye effectively blind, leaving the skin around it seared and charred. Enraged, he clenched the handle of his sword and slashed downward, hitting nothing but the ground. The soil cracked and erupted, flinging dirt and fragments in all directions. However, Dia had already vacated that location.
"Clever girl," Vilgax scowled, disgruntledly muttering about her surprise assault. "You've become wiser since your last fight with Ben. The heat from that weapon is reminiscent of the attack on Xeon, and your recent attempt to rescue a particular speedster." He released the grasp on his sword as he rubbed his face to alleviate the pain. The weapon clattered to the ground, sparking an idea within him. Closing his functioning eye, he fine-tuned his hearing to detect any unusual sounds. For several seconds, silence prevailed until the sound of grass crunching broke it.
Sporting a malevolent smirk, Vilgax pivoted with lightning speed, launching an attack with even more ferocity than he had against Max. A shrill wail of torment burst forth as he landed a blow on the once concealed adversary. The I.D. mask that had kept Dia hidden shattered upon impact with her face—fragments embedded themselves in her flesh, prompting blood to erupt as she was hurled backward. Her trajectory was abruptly interrupted as she crashed through the trunk of a tree, bringing it tumbling down. Battered extensively, Dia ultimately came to rest on solid ground with a bone-jarring thud.
“Dia!”
Helen hastened to Dia’s side, an icy shiver racing up her spine and a nauseous feeling overwhelming her at the sight of Dia's condition. Pieces of the mask protruded from her face, drawing rivulets of blood which trickled down, with a particularly profuse stream oozing from a severe head wound saturating her hair and masking her features. Her garments lay in tatters, her skin marred by lacerations and smeared with blood; both an arm and a leg appeared fractured, mercifully without any bone piercing the skin. Gently supporting Dia's head while tears cascaded down her cheeks, Helen was engulfed by emotion, “Dia–”
“Helen!” Pierce forced himself over despite the stabbing pain in his abdomen, his hand smeared with blood as he clutched the wound—thankfully not life-threatening by his reckoning. He situated himself at Helen's side urgently trying to rouse her from shock, “Dia's got a fighting chance; we need to get her to the Plumber’s base, now!”
It was only when Dia coughed—a distressing sound accompanied by spatters of blood—that Helen snapped out of her stupor. In spite of the excruciating pain, Dia squeezed Helen's hand and offered a pained smile.
~~~~~(End of Flashback)~~~~~
Ben had always loathed recollecting that fateful day for numerous reasons. One, in particular, was reflecting on his arrogant self, his behavior reminiscent of an insufferable ten-year-old who had basked in the glory of thwarting the Highbreed's cosmic onslaught. He was adorned with accolades from countless worlds for his valiant actions. Yet, all the honor and glory paled into insignificance when he discovered the grisly fate that had befallen the Plumber's Helpers, Grandpa Max, and especially Dia. The image of Dia, lying battered and insensate on her hospital bed under a tapestry of bloodied bandages with her limbs encased in plaster and surrounded by life-sustaining equipment, was etched into his memory. Helen wept bitterly at Dia’s bedside, oblivious to Ben and the others; meanwhile, Swift stood by quietly, her countenance a mix of worry and palpable anger that prompted them to withdraw—though not before igniting Ben’s own wrath.
The fury engulfed Ben completely and spurred him to dangerously tamper with the Omnitrix alongside Kevin’s assistance, rashly dismissing both Azmuth's counsel and Gwen's cautionary pleas. The result was pandemonium as multiple aliens were unleashed. Despite Azmuth's outrage over Ben’s hasty act, he wasn’t without compassion towards the boy’s overwhelming anger. Thankfully, it was Gwen’s calming influence that ultimately reined in Ben's ire, compelling him to offer amends for the havoc he inadvertently foisted upon Kevin. Helen too harbored resentment towards Ben since she had torn herself away from Dia’s bedside to lend him aid after Dia partially regained consciousness and exhorted her to go help. After ensuring Ben would acknowledge his rash actions to Dia personally upon her recovery, Helen agreed to round up the errant aliens—a gesture that left Ben grateful.
In a moment of respite from these haunting memories, Ben anchored himself back to the immediacy of life as the traffic light shifted seamlessly to green. Speaking aloud with self-reflection he mused, “Thinking back on everything - all our trials against Vilgax - it was the sheer terror of nearly losing you that scared me the most. We've faced death countless times before...but none so close like that..."
“Confronting our mortality is a harsh reality… and it’s bone-chilling when death lurks that closely. Yet, worries for my family and friends consumed me, wondering the effects my passing would cause... So, I latched onto hope… and made it through…” Dia’s tone diminished to a whisper as she unearthed those tormenting memories, envisioning the distress etched on her companions' faces as she teetered on the edge of life and death. Grandpa Shaw's eyes held a moist shimmer, though his uplifting grin remained etched in her mind as she tenaciously insisted on calling him Grandpa Jim. Helen’s image was especially lucid since she had been beside her for nearly the entirety of that ordeal, and Dia guessed that if Luhley had been in the picture back then, her reaction would have mirrored hers.
While Dia mused over her past close calls, Ben found himself contemplating his narrow escapes from mortality. Granted, his Omnitrix's emergency backup often shielded him from ultimate peril, yet the imprint of near misses was tangible. Nevertheless, he recognized that Dia had come face to face with the grim reaper far more intimately than he had. His reply was in his characteristic no-nonsense style: "You can say that again..."
"Bringing up those moments isn’t tops on my list of hobbies," Dia sighed, acknowledging their conversation's abrupt nosedive into somber territory. She coughed faintly, guiding the atmosphere back to lighter realms with an emerging expectant grin, “How does ‘Glacial Wraith’ grab you for a name?”
Despite the previous discussion's heavy overtones, Ben’s signature laid-back smirk flickered back to life. "Bit of a tongue-twister, but naming your form is your gig – and it’s definitely cool in my book,” he praised, his gaze shifting briefly to Mr. Baumann’s store along their walkway. But a thought struck him that he just had to voice: "Kinda poetic when you think about it. Your initial alien is all about subzero vibes, while mine was geared towards braving the blaze."
“Okay, I have to agree that is poetic,” Dia responded with a smile and laugh, as Ben found a parking place near the large warehouse, “Anyway, we’re here.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Over time, Mr. Baumann's once humble corner store in a less bustling part of town had transformed remarkably. Initially serving a purely human clientele, the shop had considerably expanded its customer base to include the extraterrestrial residents of Bellwood following Ben's eventful summer vacation. The growth was unmistakable; the store now resembled a vast warehouse, bustling with diverse alien species, even though it still welcomed its human patrons.
Despite the broader clientele, Ben and Dia’s dynamic with Mr. Baumann was complex, teetering between amiable and tense. Ben, in particular, had a history of causing accidental havoc; notably incinerating Mr. Baumann's car with an ill-fated magnifying glass incident at the tender age of five. Nonetheless, their connection wasn't strictly fraught; Mr. Baumann cherished their conversations when his mood was bright. On his gloomier days, though, he became notably more vociferous in safeguarding his vehicle.
As they filled the doorway with hopeful anticipation, Ben and Dia observed Mr. Baumann busily arranging cans, oblivious to their presence; his back a silent statement of focus amongst the meandering customers of the shop. Ben drew in an anticipatory breath and ventured the first words, “Good morning, Mr. Baumann. Trust you're well today?”
Without missing a beat in his task, Mr. Baumann casually tossed over his shoulder, “Morning, Ben. Dia’s with you too, I take it?,” beginning in a tone that suggested the prelude to one of his notorious moods. Yet, as he turned and evidenced a mirthful smile breaking through his facade, they picked up on the ruse – this wasn’t their first dance with Mr. Baumann's playful tricks. With an inviting wave ushering them closer into his orbit of stacked produce, he carried on talking while maintaining the rhythm of his handiwork; "Today's shaping up alright — save for our fresh delivery running behind schedule... But I know there's more than pleasantries on your minds."
Embarrassment tinged Dia’s features slightly, “Is it that obvious?”
With a scratch of his head and a sheepish grin betraying his unease, Ben admitted, “Your insight's never failed you yet.”
Mr. Baumann gave a hearty chuckle as he secured the final can atop the pyramid with precision before folding his arms across his chest – a shift to sobriety in his stance, “You two always do bring a whirlwind with you. Good to have you by though,” His gaze punctured theirs with sincerity sprinkled with concern, “Now spill it— what's brewing?”
Ben's expression was clouded with concern as he leaned in, voicing the question that had been gnawing at the back of his mind. "You know, something I wish I'd pieced together sooner, but... have you caught wind of the recent turmoil at Pakmar’s shop?" It didn't take an expert in human emotion to discern that Mr. Baumann was all too aware of the incident; it was written all over his face – a grimace betraying tension, a sheen of perspiration hinting at anxiety. Ben exhaled a weary breath, his regret palpable. "I should've seen it coming. My apologies for being slow on the uptake. Rest assured, though – we're on the case now."
Mr. Baumann’s sigh mirrored Ben’s earlier one as he beckoned them over to the well-worn counter at the heart of his establishment. “Initially, I thought it was a straightforward shakedown – pay up and they clear out – but with these goons, I know the demands will only escalate beyond reach until my store is nothing but rubble…”
Pondering their next move, Dia ran her fingers through her hair before sitting down on a creaky chair by the counter, with Ben taking his place to her right and an unknown figure occupying the seat to her left. A quick sideways glance at this newcomer prompted a startled cough from Dia before she refocused on Ben and Mr. Baumann’s conversation. “They must be running scared if they resort to explosives – maybe we can turn the tables on them, use one to lead us to their lair and cripple their operation at its core,” she whispered.
Mr. Baumann peered anxiously at his wristwatch – a timepiece that had seen better days – his gaze flickering between the clock face and the door. “Time’s almost up; they’ll be here shortly,” he said with resignation. “Just…try not to turn my shop into a battlefield too.”
"Is there any merit if they lob us into the fray?" Ben queried, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. Though the response lingered in the realm of the negative, Mr. Baumann couldn't suppress an amused chuckle or the stern stare that made Ben recoil slightly. With a grin still perched on his face, Ben turned towards Dia, his fingers deftly playing over the intricate patterns on his Omnitrix. "Think we ought to turn into aliens? They'd never see it coming."
"It's more about them not recognizing you, since you're the teen hero everyone's talking about. I'm less renowned unless..." Dia halted mid-sentence, biting back the infamous moniker that had somehow clung to her despite the cringes it evoked worldwide. Nevertheless, she retrieved her own Omnitrix, confidence lacing her tone as she brainstormed. "I do have a strategy for disarming that explosive device. Also—"
In a spectacle of dazzling lights, Ben disappeared from her gaze, compelling Dia to shield her eyes momentarily. As the echo of metal yielding met her ears, she peered through her lashes to see Ben transformed into an imposing Arburian Pelarota or more accurately— "Cannonbolt? Out of all possibilities for incognito?"
Chuckling at himself and squirming a little under his new hefty form which caused the furnishings to groan in protest he mused aloud. "I contemplated assuming Big Chill's form but... You're right; I should petition Azmuth to tweak this thing so it shifts into my chosen alien by name." Cannonbolt shrugged apologetically as Mr. Baumann's imperturbable demeanor wavered somewhat.
"No harm done...these seats were due for an update anyway..." Mr. Baumann muttered half to himself as he rummaged for a box that might suggest he was gearing up for something important. Casting a resigned glance at them, he conceded, "Besides, given that there are a few Arburian Pelarotas scattered around the galaxy, you just might sell the ruse."
"Hand over the payment, Baumann!" came the gruff demand.
Dia's voice was hardly above a whisper, tension coiling in her words as she peered back cautiously. "Time to see what's up our sleeve..."
Entering into the store first was a Toxzukul, their shape conjuring images of a neon pink caterpillar—a peculiar entity that flourished solely on worlds with an acidic air similar to their home planet. Ingeniously, they had concocted sophisticated life-sustaining armor that allowed them to traverse and examine far-off, milder planets. This Toxzukul sported the customary suit, adorned with shining argent plates coupled with stylish violet accents, manifesting a touch of individuality. A clear dome helmet maintained their essential atmospheric conditions while shiny gauntlets encased their agile appendages.
The one following close was an Gallustros, a curious mix of human and bird-like attributes; this specimen shared an uncanny likeness to Earth's domestic fowl. But make no mistake—underestimating them would be foolish, particularly within arm's reach where they unexpectedly shine with unmatched delicacy and tactical acumen. However, for the combat-savvy, triumph was still not out of reach.
Lastly, in strolled an Acrosian — fearsome sorts whose bodies slowly morph into a synthesis of alloy and gadgetry. Each Acrosian exhibited these transformations in their own style but invariably maintained their biological cranium post-alteration. Impressively adaptable, being beheaded didn't spell the end for them—they were that advanced in their evolutionary journey past traditional life forms.
Dia recognized the trio from the criminal database back at the base—Bubble Helmet, Liam, and Fistina.
Whirling to face the other direction swiftly, ensuring that Bubble Helmet couldn't catch a glimpse of her countenance, she was battling the urge to succumb to anxiety as she sipped an alien concoction. It wasn't something she had requested; however, the individual adjacent to her slid it toward her, quietly indicating she should enjoy it. After all, she recognized who it was—fortunately, the beverage was harmless for human consumption. Cannonbolt took note of her covert attempts to mask her unease, murmuring, "You alright?"
"Just peachy...except for my role in the investigation that led to Bubble Helmet being banished to the null void...small matter," Dia replied with a forced air of indifference. There was genuine concern about being recognized, lest he sought vengeance, or worse, if they were tracked down they might quickly untangle their current predicament.
The gang of outlaws ceased their approach merely a short distance away, with Liam and Fistina flanking Bubble Helmet and appearing burdened by a mysterious item. "You hear the latest about Pakmar?" inquired Liam with an implicit threat in his voice, alluding ominously to what might be in store for Baumann’s establishment.
“I hear he’s running a special on toilets,” Cannonbolt shot back but winced as Dia gave him a sharp pinch on a bare spot of his arm and didn’t miss Baumann’s rebuke glare before he addressed the villainous trio. “Rumor has it, it was all a mishap.”
“Such mishaps tend to occur rather frequently,” retorted Bubble Helmet as he sidestepped, unveiling the apparatus that Liam and Fistina lugged. Dia glanced at the device only briefly before involuntarily inhaling midway through her drink, concealing another cough behind her hand while receiving a supportive pat on the back; she recognized it as much more sinister than anticipated, forgetting its formal name yet aware that extraterrestrial circles deemed it the ‘Shakedown machine.’ Bubble Helmet added insidiously, “Perhaps they’re commonplace for you.”
"Relax, please. I’d rather not have any complications," Mr. Baumann said in a shaky voice, his hands clumsily grappling with the container. At that moment, Liam's attention was diverted, amusing himself with some birdseed; a detail Ben and Dia picked up on.
Mr. Baumann unveiled the contents of the box – a trove of taydenite shards. He reached to hand one over when Bubble Helmet swiftly extended his arm, seizing the entire box and leaving Mr. Baumann with only one shard in his grip. Bubble Helmet's mocking chortle reverberated, "Always a delight to conduct transactions with you."
Intuitively, Dia recognized that trailing them discreetly would be optimal for tracing their path back to their stronghold. Yet another part of her insisted on a more direct approach; should they succeed in intimidating them sufficiently, it could just as heartily send them scurrying back to their lair while being pursued. The mutual understanding in her exchange of glances with Cannonbolt confirmed his similar thoughts. She then addressed the other person firmly, "It is tempting to arrive at the last moment for dramatic effect to impress him but assisting us now in securing the box is paramount."
"Your logic is sound," he responded promptly, rising from his seat and casting off his cloak—a motion which surprised all save Dia—as the weapon mounted on his shoulder fixated on the container and released a grappling hook, efficiently reclaiming it amidst their shock at his revelation. Sporting a victorious grin, he returned the box to Baumann who had taken refuge behind the counter in anticipation of hostilities erupting; he looked to Dia for approval, "Was my timing adequate?"
"You definitely took them by surprise," Dia responded with an approving smirk, rotating in her chair to assess their adversaries' reaction—unsurprisingly noting rage etched on Bubble Helmet's features due to both the loss of the crate and Dia's presence. Observing Cannonbolt's expression shift from shock to admiration, she motioned towards him, "Ben, allow me to introduce our ally.”
"Rook Blonko," Rook articulated, extending his hand for a handshake, grinning as Ben reciprocated. "I am eager to work alongside you and Dia."
"Just giving you a heads-up, if I appear aloof, it's because most of this was sprung on me at the last second. Dia lent some assistance, though," Cannonbolt explained, observing Rook's mild confusion at the phrase 'sprung on me.' Perceiving the clue, he added, "Earth expressions are unfamiliar to you, correct?"
Before they could proceed with their conversation, Bubble Helmet extracted what initially seemed like electric staffs. However, upon spinning them, they functioned as laser fire. Rook and Dia ducked behind the counter for cover, whereas Cannonbolt remained standing—the lasers simply bounced off his armor. Dia murmured, "We can all bond after we've dealt with them. Ben, now's the time—do your thing."
"Understood," Cannonbolt nodded. He quickly curled into a ball and hurtled toward Bubble Helmet, propelling him backward with considerable force against an aisle wall. This caused a domino effect as the other aisles toppled in succession. Startled by the uproar, the customers swiftly evacuated the store, allowing them to concentrate on the crooks.
"This situation is bad, Rook. If they possess more of those shakedown devices, they could easily devastate much of Bellwood," Dia whispered apprehensively while peeking over the countertop. As Cannonbolt sped toward Fistina and sent her flying too, Rook detached his Proto-Tool from his shoulder to switch its mode. Crouching behind cover again, she activated her Omnitrix and said optimistically, "With any luck I can choose the right one— take-down Liam. Use the bird seed."
Rook affirmed with a nod and deftly leaped over the counter while Dia scrutinized the variety of alien visages before her. The array was visually complex, making identification a challenge. An idea struck her—maybe swapping to holographic displays could simplify matters if feasible. She settled on an entity adorned with what appeared to be goggles atop its head and rolled the dice, murmuring, “Fingers crossed you're a winner.”
In a dazzle of light, Dia morphed into a petite, crimson gremlin-like creature brandishing a voluminous spade-shaped tail and dressed in machinist overalls featuring an odd hood that matched her now-garnet ears. Goggles rested atop her head as an innate impulse to dismantle and engineer whispered through her mind. Catching her new reflection amidst the raucous battle, she exclaimed, "Aha, I've turned into a Planchaküle!...I hadn't picked out a name for this guise… umm, for the moment… Ruby Wrench it is!"
Ruby Wrench sprang into action, clamping onto the countertop as she observed Cannonbolt— true to form—barreling repeatedly into Fistina, catapulting her across the space. Rook was employing an unorthodox tactic for his bird-seed usage, flinging them into Liam's face followed by swift strikes from his proto-tool staff—an unexpected but efficient method. Yet Ruby's attention was seized as she espied Bubble Helmet tampering with the shakedown apparatus; inspirations sparked within her like fireworks, "Lightbulb moment!"
“Dia seems to have vanished, but luck may allow for her to be caught in the explosion too…” Bubble Helmet snickered sinisterly as he punched in sequences at the terminal. However, a cacophony of rending metal from behind soon disturbed his malicious musings. Whirling around, he locked eyes with a Planchaküle expertly deconstructing the machine in front of him, “Cease your meddling! Can't you grasp that I'm endeavoring to demolish this establishment!”
“Like I’d ever let you do that, Bubblehead!”
“H-Hold on, Dia?—” Bubble Helmet tumbled to the floor, wincing in agony as a lighting fixture plummeted from the ceiling and struck him, sending him sprawling. Oddly, the skirmish hadn’t reached the high rafters. Dia had anticipated he'd persist in manipulating the console, so when she ripped out another component, the device started to quiver and fissure with pulsing energy.
“This isn't good.”
Ruby Wrench let out a horrified yelp that took everyone by surprise as she scampered away from the contraption toward Cannonbolt and Rook. After regaining his footing, Bubble Helmet hastily scurried aside in disarray. Ruby Wrench vaulted onto Rook and shielded herself behind him while peering past with wide eyes. Perplexed, Rook inquired, “What is transpiring?”
Considering their precarious situation, Cannonbolt observed the tremoring apparatus with an emerging power surge. “Brace yourselves,” he said soberly, “this won’t end well.”
The machine continued to fracture, emitting sparks as it radiated an intense light that escalated in luminosity causing all to dive for shelter. The light coalesced into a spherical form as it seemed to unleash a gale within the shop; merchandise tumbled off shelves and items careened about wildly. The brilliance was overpowering yet within that glow emerged a silhouette.
Then, with an explosive flash that receded as quickly as it had erupted, a girl appeared coughing on the floor with a weapon close at hand; she looked bewildered and disoriented. Her gaze flitted around; her freckles subtly shifted hues before her entire being flushed crimson. She mustered her voice as much as she could and blurted out urgently.
“Where on Remnant am I?!”