“Vilgax!” Albedo’s voice reverberated with a sharp, metallic ring, echoing off the reinforced bulkheads of the bridge.
Diamondhead’s crystalline frame shifted slightly into a low, predatory combat stance, his jagged, Taydenite-coated shoulders rising as his arm blade gleamed under the harsh overhead lights.
“What in the world are you doing here?
If you came to my ship looking for a fight, I assure you—I am more than happy to oblige!”
Any ordinary inhabitant of the galaxy would have trembled in their boots at the sight of the ruthless warlord.
Vilgax’s reputation for planetary devastation preceded him across a dozen star systems.
But Albedo didn’t feel a shred of fear.
His red eyes remained locked on the giant, watching for the slightest muscle twitch.
For a long moment, the heavy silence on the bridge was deafening.
Then, unexpectedly, Vilgax slowly lowered his massive broadsword.
With a heavy, deliberate movement, he sheathed the weapon behind his back, his dark armor clanking softly as he stepped down from the raised platform.
“My purpose here is not to destroy you, Albedo,” Vilgax said, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that vibrated through the metal deck beneath their feet.
“I came to offer a proposal.
A mutual cooperation.”
A harsh, bitter laugh erupted from Diamondhead’s chest.
“Cooperation?
That’s rich!
Who in their right mind would believe a word out of your mouth?
You travel across light-years to Earth, tear the airlock straight off my vessel, try to split my head open with a broadsword, and then casually announce you want to be partners?”
Despite his sharp, mocking tone, Albedo’s internal sensors stayed on high alert.
He didn’t drop his crystal blade by so much as a millimeter.
Vilgax remained entirely unbothered by the hostility.
“The attack was merely a test,” the warlord replied smoothly, crossing his heavy, armored arms.
“A necessary evaluation to ascertain whether you still possessed the combat capability and intellect worthy of working alongside me.”
Seeing that Albedo wasn’t lowering his guard, Vilgax skipped the pleasantries and laid out his terms directly.
“The arrangement is simple,” Vilgax continued, his crimson optic fixated on the crystalline alien in front of him.
“We pool our resources and join forces to eliminate Ben Tennyson once and for all.
Once the boy is dealt with, the Omnitrix is yours.
I only care about destroying the wielder; you may claim the prize.”
Ah, Albedo thought, his mind racing through the timeline.
So we’ve officially arrived at this point in the story.
Diamondhead stood motionless, feigning deep, hesitant contemplation.
He let the silence stretch out, stroking his sharp, crystalline chin with two fingers as though weighing the immense risk of allying with a notorious galactic tyrant.
In reality, his decision had already been made the second Vilgax opened his mouth.
To the original Albedo, desperate to regain a true Galvan body or secure the Omnitrix at all costs, this offer would have been an irresistible temptation.
But to this Albedo, the situation was fundamentally different.
His newly engineered Ultimatrix was completely isolated from Primus, free of master-override exploits, and loaded with a localized database of over ten thousand species.
Functionally and structurally, his current device was already superior to Tennyson’s prototype.
He had zero genuine interest in taking Ben’s watch.
More importantly, he knew Vilgax’s true nature inside and out.
The moment Ben Tennyson was out of the picture, Vilgax would turn on him without a second thought to claim every piece of alien technology on the planet.
He thinks he’s manipulating me, Albedo mused, a cold, amused smirk forming behind his crystal visage.
He thinks I’m desperate.
But having all the foreknowledge makes this far too entertaining to pass up.
Albedo tapped the red hourglass crest on his chest.
A flash of brilliant crimson light swept over his body, shifting his molecular structure back into his pale, white-haired human form.
He stepped forward, flashing a relaxed, confident smile, and extended his right hand toward the massive warlord.
“Very well, Lord Vilgax,” Albedo said smoothly, his voice practically dripping with artificial charm.
“I accept your terms.
May this partnership prove to be mutually beneficial.”
Vilgax stared down at the small human hand offered to him, then shifted his gaze toward the red gauntlet strapped to Albedo’s wrist.
For a split second, a flicker of genuine curiosity flashed across the warlord’s face, quickly replaced by a subtle, condescending sneer.
Vilgax let out a low, dismissive huff.
To a warlord who had spent years hunting the genuine Omnitrix, Albedo’s red device clearly looked like nothing more than a cheap, home-made knockoff—a toy built by a desperate assistant.
Albedo caught the disdainful look immediately, but he didn’t mind in the slightest.
In fact, let the giant overestimate himself.
Misdirection was a scientist’s best friend.
As Vilgax turned to leave, Albedo’s expression abruptly shifted.
The pleasant smile dissolved into a sharp, mischievous grin.
“Ah, before you go, Lord Vilgax…
there is just one small administrative matter we need to settle,” Albedo called out, taking a casual step after him.
Vilgax paused, turning his massive, squid-like head back with an irritated glare.
“What matter?”
Albedo gestured dramatically toward the gaping, torn-open entrance of his ship, where cold night air was currently whistling through the dark corridors.
“How exactly do you plan to compensate me for my destroyed airlock?” Albedo asked, tilting his head with mock innocence.
“You see, this happens to be custom Galvan engineering.
Reinforced titanium-plated alloy, triple-sealed pressure locks…
that door didn’t come cheap.”
Vilgax stared at him, visibly stunned into silence.
In all his centuries of conquering star systems, no one had ever dared to hand him a repair bill.
Seeing the warlord’s stunned, rigid posture, Albedo pressed the advantage, laying on the sarcasm as thick as possible.
“Wait…
don’t tell me,” Albedo gasped, putting a pale hand over his heart in mock horror.
“Could it truly be?
Lord Vilgax—the feared Conqueror of Ten Worlds, master of a thousand battle fleets—is actually planning to skip out on a tab for property damage?
Surely a galactic ruler of your immense stature isn’t too broke to pay for a single door?
What would your troops say if word got out?”
Vilgax’s jaw tightened, his skin darkening slightly with sheer, suppressed rage.
Albedo had neatly backed him into a corner; if he refused to pay now, it would make him look absurdly petty in front of a potential ally.
“I will have my crew deliver a credit transfer to your terminal shortly,” Vilgax spat out, his voice practically vibrating with anger.
“Do not waste time.
Prepare your systems for the assault.”
Without waiting for another word, the warlord turned on his heel and marched out of the ship at a noticeably hurried pace.
“Safe travels, Lord Vilgax!” Albedo called out cheerfully after him, leaning against the doorframe.
“Watch out on your way out—you never know when a stray To’kustar might drop out of the sky and crush your shuttle!”
He watched as the distant shadow of Vilgax’s transport rocketed into the night sky, its engines flaring at maximum burn.
Albedo let out a long breath, turning back to face the gaping hole in his ship’s hull.
“Well…
at least I managed to wring some cash out of him.
Still, I can’t leave my primary facility open to the elements like this.”
He raised his arm and brought up the Ultimatrix interface.
Spinning the dial to a specialized engineering profile, he slammed his palm down.
A wave of red light enveloped him, shrinking his stature down into a small, frantic-looking alien with reddish-orange skin, a long tail, and hyperactive, bulging eyes.
“Juryrigg!”
The moment the transformation took hold, an intense, almost overwhelming impulse to build, dismantle, and modify flooded his brain.
Juryrigg cackled maniacally, his small ears twitching as he sprinted toward the vessel’s primary storage bay.
“Break it!
No, fix it!
Fix it, fix it, fix it!” Juryrigg babbled to himself, his clawed hands moving in a blur as he began dragging out heavy sheets of scrap plating, hydraulic lines, and welding torches.
In a chaotic blur of sparks, clanking metal, and rapid-fire tinkering, Juryrigg worked at insane speed.
Screws were driven, seams were fused, and reinforced locking bolts were slammed into place.
Within less than two minutes, a brand-new, heavily reinforced, custom airlock door was fully installed and sealed shut with a satisfying thunk-hiss.
Satisfied with his chaotic masterpiece, Juryrigg slapped the chest crest, reverting back to human form with a soft sigh of relief.
Albedo walked back to the main lab console and sat down in the swivel chair, crossing his legs as he looked down at the workbench.
Resting inside an insulated field container was the incomplete core he had originally stolen from Azmuth’s laboratory before building his own device from scratch.
He stared at the glowing core, his red eyes reflecting its soft blue light.
In the original timeline, Albedo reflected quietly, this alliance ended in a total mess.
Vilgax betrayed Albedo, Ben destroyed the original Omnitrix, and Albedo lost his Ultimatrix to Ben in the chaos.
He leaned back, tapping his fingers thoughtfully against the armrest.
I’m not going to give up my Ultimatrix—it’s my absolute key to survival in this universe.
But at the same time, if the timeline is going to progress, Ben is going to need a serious upgrade when his prototype device inevitably breaks down.
A slow, scheming smile spread across Albedo’s face as he reached out and picked up Azmuth’s incomplete core, feeling its faint electronic warmth.
“Since I’ve got plenty of time before Vilgax makes his move,” he whispered softly to the empty lab, “I might as well build something truly interesting.”