Ben stood anchored to the dirt road, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized the pale, red-eyed teenager standing before him.
The silence between them stretched thin, punctuated only by the distant rustle of leaves and the faint hum of night air.
“Why are you telling me all this?” Ben asked, his voice laced with deep suspicion.
He didn’t lower his arm, his thumb still hovering dangerously over the raised dial of his Omnitrix.
“And why should I believe a single word coming out of your mouth?”
Albedo let out a slow, dramatic sigh, rolling his crimson eyes with a pinch of genuine exasperation.
“Honestly, Tennyson, you really need to tone down the paranoia,” Albedo said, running a pale hand through his stark-white hair.
“Is my reputation truly that unsalvageable in your mind?
When you look at my record rationally, am I really the grand villain you paint me to be?
Aside from my previous attempt to secure the Omnitrix, what great harm have I actually inflicted upon this planet?”
Ben blinked, thrown off by the sharp, logical framing.
“I mean, think about it,” Albedo continued, taking a casual step forward with his hands tucked into his jacket pockets.
“My sole motivation back then was to build a device that would restore my original Galvan form.
But now?” He paused, a subtle, highly amused smirk touching his lips.
“I’ve grown quite fond of this human physiology.
Well…
apart from sharing a face with you, of course.
That remains an unfortunate aesthetic penalty.”
Ben fell quiet, his mind racing as he processed the argument.
Against his better judgment, he realized Albedo actually had a point.
In his previous rampage, Albedo hadn’t targeted civilians or attempted world domination; he had mostly just smashed through a few high-tech strongholds belonging to the Forever Knights while tracking down the Omnitrix.
(He had even paid full price in crisp dollar bills when buying his chili fries at Mr.
Smoothie, which made calling him a hardened criminal feel a bit strange.)
Ben’s brow furrowed tightly as he tried to reconcile the logic with his instincts.
“Okay, fine…
but that still doesn’t answer my question.
What do you actually gain by coming out here and exposing Vilgax’s plan to me?”
Despite his lingering caution, the wall of hostility in Ben’s posture was slowly beginning to crack, replaced by a strange, tentative curiosity.
“I’ll be entirely transparent with you, Ben,” Albedo said, dropping the casual posture and looking him straight in the eye.
“I am here to offer my assistance.”
Ben stared at him, his face twisting into an expression of absolute, unadulterated disbelief.
“You?
Help me?
Are you out of your mind?”
“Don’t look at me like I’ve offered you poison,” Albedo replied smoothly, crossing his arms.
“Let me be perfectly clear: I am not doing this out of the goodness of my heart.
I have no interest in playing the noble hero.
I am doing this simply because the setup is far too entertaining to ignore.
The sheer, glorious comedic value of that revelation is more than worth my effort.”
Ben shifted his weight, his mind locked in a brutal internal tug-of-war.
Part of him warned that this was a trap—that Albedo and Vilgax were orchestrating a complex good-cop-bad-cop routine to strip him of the watch.
But another, more desperate part of his brain recognized the grim reality of his situation.
Gwen and Kevin were trapped in Vilgax’s stronghold.
Without an insider, charging in blindly was a suicide mission that would end with his friends dead or his watch stolen anyway.
The weight of the choice pressed down on his shoulders like a lead blanket.
Time was running out.
Finally, with a heavy, defeated exhale, Ben slowly lowered his arm, letting his hands drop to his sides.
“Alright,” Ben muttered, his shoulders slumping slightly.
“It’s not like I’ve got a dozen better options right now.
What’s the plan?”
Albedo raised an eyebrow, a flicker of genuine surprise flashing across his pale face before settling into a self-satisfied smirk.
“Well, well.
You’re actually willing to listen?
Look at you, great hero—you’ve actually developed a shred of tactical maturity since you were ten years old.”
Ben’s head snapped up, his brow furrowing in confusion.
“Ten?
What are you talking about?
I didn’t even know you existed when I was ten!”
Albedo let out a low, weary groan, placing two fingers against the bridge of his nose.
“Your spatial memory is truly tragic, Tennyson.
Have you completely forgotten your trip to Galvan Prime?
When the DNA-splicing mercenaries invaded the upper lab levels, stole a helix core, and took a Galvan researcher hostage?”
Ben’s mental gears turned rapidly, digging through memories of his childhood adventures across space.
Suddenly, a bright lightbulb clicked in his head.
“Wait…” Ben gasped, his eyes widening.
“You?!
You were that hyper-arrogant, foul-mouthed little Galvan standing next to Azmuth’s console!”
“I appreciate the recognition,” Albedo said coldly, “though the colorful descriptors were entirely unnecessary.”
Shaking off the distraction, Albedo leaned in, his red eyes growing sharp and focused as he laid out his strategy.
“Here is how we execute this,” Albedo began, his tone becoming brisk and precise.
“I will head back to Vilgax’s staging area immediately, maintaining the illusion that our alliance is intact.
You will arrive shortly after, pretending to walk right into his trap.
Ben opened his mouth to object, but Albedo held up a hand to cut him off.
“Listen to the complete sequence before you react,” Albedo instructed.
“The moment the physical trade is executed and your friends are secured, you trigger the Omnitrix’s internal command code—specifically, the self-destruct sequence.”
Ben’s jaw dropped.
“The self-destruct?!”
“Precisely,” Albedo said, a cold, theatrical grin spreading across his face as he made a sweeping motion with his hands.
“You initiate the charge sequence.
A command-level self-destruct cannot be bypassed without Master Control authorization.
Vilgax will be faced with a choice: hand the watch back and flee, or stand there and be atomized alongside the device he spent decades hunting.
If he hesitates…
boom.”
Albedo mimicked an explosion with his fingers, completely unfazed by the concept.
To him, sticking to the structural beat of the timeline was key—he just wanted to optimize the execution.
“And here is a critical refinement,” Albedo added, his eyes gleaming with malicious scientific interest.
“Set the countdown charge for a full sixty seconds instead of thirty.
I’ve calculated the blast radius of your prototype core—thirty seconds won’t give the localized energy overload enough density to tear through Vilgax’s personal shielding.
A sixty-second charge, however?
That will blow his armor into scrap metal.”
Ben looked horrified.
“Are you crazy?!
If I blow up the Omnitrix, Azmuth will literally fly across the galaxy just to vaporize me himself!”
Albedo waved his hand dismissively, completely ignoring Ben’s panic.
“Oh, please.
Don’t be dramatic.
If the prototype gets destroyed, you simply force the old man to hand over the updated model he’s been sitting on.”
He paused, casting a sly, calculating glance at Ben.
“Of course…
if Azmuth proves uncooperative, and if you agree to supply me with a daily delivery of extra-spicy chili fries and large smoothies for a full month…
I might be persuaded to craft a replacement unit for you myself.
Eventually.”
Ben stared at him, a heavy knot forming in his stomach as he envisioned his immediate future: acting as an unpaid delivery boy for a smug, white-haired clone who had just convinced him to blow up the most powerful weapon in the universe.
Yet, as he looked toward the dark horizon where Vilgax was holding his family hostage, Ben knew he didn’t have a better play.
“Fine,” Ben growled through gritted teeth, rubbing his temples in utter exhaustion.
“We do it your way.
But if this blows up in my face—literally—I’m throwing you to Azmuth first.”
Albedo’s smirk only widened.
“A pleasure doing business with you, hero.”