Chapter 20: A Cold, a Swarm, and a Cure
It was a bright morning, the air was fresh, and, of course, this being America, the day wouldn't be complete without a high-speed car chase.
Ben, transformed into the liquid-metal alien Upgrade, had merged with a sleek motorcycle, its frame now glowing with green circuitry. He was hot on the tail of a robber speeding away in a flashy convertible.
The Rustbucket and a convoy of police cars trailed a safe distance behind. In truth, Klein and the others weren't worried. Ben lived for these moments, and dealing with common criminals was his bread and butter. It was a routine they had all grown accustomed to.
It was worth noting that Ben wasn't the only aspiring hero in the family. Gwen had taken to the role with surprising enthusiasm, even buying a cat-faced mask from a gift shop a few towns back for her occasional crime-fighting escapades.
For now, though, the Rustbucket was simply on cleanup duty, ready to scoop Ben up once the show was over.
It didn't take long. With a final burst of speed, Upgrade extended a series of sharp spikes from the motorcycle's front wheel, shredding the convertible's tires. The car screeched to a halt, and the robbers were promptly swarmed by the arriving police, who cuffed them and bundled them into the back of a squad car.
"Where's Ben?" Grandpa Max asked as they pulled up, scanning the area. The glowing green motorcycle was parked, but there was no sign of Upgrade or his cousin.
"He probably got tired after the chase, and it's a hot day," Gwen said, her knowledge of her cousin's habits bordering on psychic. "My guess is… he's over there." She pointed towards a nearby ice cream delivery truck.
Sure enough, when they opened the back door, they found Ben huddled inside. He was back in his human form, shivering despite the heat, clutching a half-eaten popsicle in one hand while sniffling miserably.
Back in the Rustbucket, the diagnosis was in.
"One hundred and three degrees Fahrenheit," Grandpa Max announced, looking from the thermometer to Ben, who was now buried under a pile of blankets. "Yep, you've definitely got a nasty cold."
Gwen immediately went to the first-aid kit, pulling out a box of cold medicine, fever reducers, and two medical masks.
"I don't need that junk," Ben mumbled from his cocoon of blankets, shivering violently.
"They're not for you, dweeb. They're for Klein and me," Gwen retorted, snapping one of the masks over her face. "Your germs are probably staging a full-scale invasion of the entire RV."
"What Ben needs is my specialty," Grandpa Max said, a comforting hand on Ben's shoulder. "A good, strong pot of Sangju Tea. Come on, Chinatown is just up ahead."
…
A short while later, the four of them emerged from a traditional Chinese medicine shop. Grandpa Max held up a small can.
"They don't have fresh bellflower root, only the freeze-dried kind," he said with a slight sigh.
"Ugh, my throat feels like it's on fire," Ben croaked, leaning listlessly against his grandfather. "Grandpa, can I just get a milkshake?"
"Don't you worry," Grandpa Max said, cruelly dashing his hopes. "This Sangju Tea will clear that phlegm and stop your cough right up."
Nearby, a local politician was delivering a speech from a small stage, her voice droning over a loudspeaker. Her speech was abruptly cut short as a thick, buzzing cloud descended upon the square. A swarm of locusts, dense enough to blot out the sun, swirled around a man dressed in rags who hovered in their midst.
"You will not tear down our home!" the man shrieked, his voice thin and reedy, pointing a trembling finger at the politician.
The familiar sound of panicked screams drew the Tennysons' attention.
"Heh heh! Time for a hero to make his entrance!" Despite being dizzy with fever, Ben Tennyson was always ready to throw down with a weirdo.
A flash of green light erupted, and Wildmutt appeared in his place.
The victory was short-lived. The Vulpimancer, usually a master tracker, stumbled around blindly, crashing into a breakfast cart and sending dumplings flying.
"It seems Ben's cold has affected Wildmutt's sense of smell," Grandpa Max observed grimly. He turned to the other two. "Gwen, Klein!"
"Relax, Grandpa," Klein said, stepping forward. "Gwen, you get the civilians out of there. I'll handle Mr. Bug." He slapped the faceplate of his own Omnitrix.
"Big Chill!"
In a flash of dark blue light, Klein transformed. The air around him instantly grew cold. Phasing into intangibility, Big Chill soared directly toward the insect-controlling villain. Every locust he passed through froze solid, dropping from the sky like tiny, complex ice sculptures.
Meanwhile, Gwen's hands glowed with pink energy. She wove complex patterns of mana, creating shimmering lassos that plucked people from the heart of the swarm and pulled them to safety.
The bug man, Clancy, saw the politician suddenly enveloped in a purple glow and whisked away behind him. He spun around, enraged. "Who—!"
He never finished the question. A beautiful, moth-like humanoid figure materialized before him. Before Clancy could even register what he was seeing, Big Chill's fist connected with his jaw.
With the physique of an ordinary man, Clancy crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
…
"Alright, Ben, drink up." Grandpa Max held out a steaming mug of freshly brewed Sangju Tea to Ben, who was once again swaddled in blankets.
"Ugh, Grandpa, who even taught you how to make this stuff?" Ben wrinkled his nose at the pungent, earthy aroma and recoiled.
"A monk," Grandpa Max answered truthfully. Seeing their bewildered expressions, he added, "What? Monks have plumbing and electrical problems, too."
Pinching his nose, Ben forced himself to swallow half of the bitter concoction. Just then, the radio inside the Rustbucket crackled to life with a news bulletin: the insect-controlling villain had already escaped police custody. As everyone's attention shifted to the broadcast, Ben seized the opportunity, quickly stashing the half-full mug in a nearby cabinet.
Klein wasn't surprised in the slightest. He had zero faith in conventional prisons to hold any of these super-powered misfits. But he didn't particularly care, either. As Grandpa had said, once the weirdo was in police hands, it was their problem.
Gwen, however, was already on her laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard.
"Found it! That bug guy—Clancy—he mentioned 'our home.' The only old apartment building in the city center slated for demolition is at 86 Tanches Street."
Hearing that, Grandpa Max didn't hesitate. He slammed the Rustbucket into gear and sped towards the address.
…
When they arrived, the scene was pure chaos.
Several armed helicopters circled overhead, their searchlights cutting through the swarm. A dozen police cars formed a barricade around a dilapidated apartment building. Hovering in the air, supported by a churning platform of locusts, was Clancy. A living carpet of insects crawled over everything, and terrified police officers screamed as they tried to claw the bugs off their bodies.
"You will not destroy our home!" Clancy shrieked, conducting his insect orchestra.
"Time for a hero to… to… Achoo!" Ben sneezed, a flash of green light starting to form on his watch before Klein placed a hand on his shoulder.
"I've got this one, Ben." Klein was getting annoyed. Why couldn't this guy learn a lesson from his predecessors? Did he really have to come back and make more trouble? Klein decided then and there that Clancy was going to have a fatal "accident" today.
A searing blue light pulsed from the Omnitrix.
"Heatblast!"
The Pyronite stood tall, his body a living inferno. "Hey, bug-man!" he boomed, his voice like crackling embers. "Ready for an all-you-can-eat roasted insect buffet?!"
He raised a hand, and a towering pillar of fire erupted, blasting a massive hole through the center of the insect swarm. The sky rained down charred insect corpses, many turning to ash before they even hit the ground, filling the air with a foul, burnt smell.
"Where did you come from, you freak!" Clancy screamed, directing the remains of his swarm to charge Heatblast.
Heatblast was ready. He'd considered transforming into Swampfire, but he had a feeling those locusts would have no problem chewing through plant matter. Instead, he simply let his own power flare. A nova of intense flame burst from his body. The insects that couldn't stop in time flew straight into the inferno and were instantly incinerated.
The ambient temperature skyrocketed. The swarm recoiled, buzzing frantically as they tried to escape the oppressive heat. Even the insects crawling on the nearby police officers abandoned their hosts, fleeing the unbearable temperatures. If there weren't so many people around, Klein wouldn't have just been raising the temperature; the surrounding buildings would already be cinders.
Clancy was forced back by the shimmering wall of heat, retreating step by step until he was back inside the dilapidated apartment building.
Seeing his opening, Heatblast began launching a continuous barrage of fireballs into the swarm. One of those fireballs, quite "accidentally," slammed into a critical support pillar of the old building. With a groan of tortured metal and concrete, the entire structure began to collapse.
Clancy, his attention focused entirely on the fiery alien outside, was caught completely off guard. He looked up just in time to be crushed by a shower of falling rubble.
With their master gone, the insects lost all cohesion. Terrified by the intense heat, they scattered in every direction, disappearing into the night.
Perhaps it was a coincidence, but thanks to the scorching battlefield, Ben's severe cold was gone in just a few days.
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