Chapter 69: Sleepwalking Class
The familiar scent of motor oil and scorched metal hung heavy in the air around the Rustbucket. Grandpa Max stood planted in front of the open hood, a wrench in hand, muttering under his breath as he wrestled with the RV's temperamental engine.
Inside the cabin, the atmosphere was entirely different. Klein slouched deep into the faded upholstery of the sofa, watching the spectacle unfolding on the dining table.
Ben, currently transformed into the diminutive, frog-like Grey Matter, stood perfectly still on the tabletop. His large, bulbous eyes lacked their usual spark of chaotic energy, replaced by a glassy, vacant stare.
"Everything is at your command, Master." Grey Matter dropped to one knee, bowing his oversized head toward Gwen.
A wicked, entirely too delighted grin spread across Gwen's face. Her eyes practically sparkled with mischief. She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands.
"Go get me some ice cream."
"Yes, Master."
Grey Matter sprang into action. The tiny alien vaulted off the edge of the table, his sticky pads catching the linoleum floor with a soft slap. He scurried over to the refrigerator, scaled the smooth metal door like a gecko, and yanked the handle. Cold air spilled out as he hoisted a massive tub of chocolate chip ice cream over his head. Jumping down with surprising grace, he sprinted back to Gwen and hoisted the freezing tub upward, offering it like a sacred artifact.
Gwen took the ice cream, barely suppressing a giggle. She immediately began rattling off a new list of demands, ordering the hypnotized alien to sweep the floor, scrub the dinner plates, and organize her colored pencils by shade.
Klein pushed himself up from the sofa, stretching his arms over his head with a loud yawn. "Gwen, be careful not to play him to death. I am going to take a nap first."
He needed to rest. Tonight was his planned 'clubbing'operation, which mostly involved tracking down that bizarre hypnotist and permanently borrowing his shiny pocket watch.'Am I some kind of pet?!' Ben's muffled consciousness screamed from somewhere deep inside the alien form, though his physical body merely fetched a sponge.
"Mhm, I will be careful," Gwen nodded obediently, though her eyes were already scanning the cabin for heavier objects Grey Matter could polish.
Watching the tiny alien scrub a frying pan with terrifying efficiency, a sudden, brilliant thought popped into Gwen's mind. If only she had tricked her lazy cousin into volunteering on stage earlier. Having Klein as a mindless servant would have been the ultimate victory.
Over on his bed, Klein suddenly shivered. He sat up, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the empty corners of the RV. The air felt strangely hostile for a brief second. He glanced at the ceiling vents. The air conditioning must be set too low. Shaking his head, he pulled the blanket up to his chin and closed his eyes.
Time drifted by quietly, the afternoon sun giving way to the cool shadows of evening.
Klein woke up to the sound of frantic scuffling. He rubbed his eyes, peering through the dim light of the cabin to see Ben and Gwen engaged in a fierce, albeit one-sided, battle over a digital camera.
A faint pink aura of mana enveloped the camera, suspending it high in the air near the ceiling. Gwen stood safely behind the counter, flicking her fingers to make the device dart around like a laser pointer teasing a cat. Below it, Ben—having finally timed out and returned to his human form—was jumping desperately, his fingers brushing empty air as he tried to snatch the device.
Judging by the sheer panic on Ben's face, Gwen had thoroughly documented his time as a subservient, dish-washing amphibian.
"Alright, Ben, Gwen, stop playing. Klein, you are awake. Come quickly, dinner is ready."
Grandpa Max stepped into the RV, carrying a massive paper bag that radiated the heavenly scent of deep-fried grease and processed cheese. He had been elbow-deep in engine grease all day and clearly had no time to forage for his usual horrifying culinary experiments.
Fast food. For Klein, Ben, and Gwen, this was nothing short of a miracle.
"Hmph!" Ben and Gwen exchanged venomous glares, both turning their heads away in unison.
"Do not make trouble, Dork," Ben muttered, stomping over to the table and dropping into a chair.
Gwen rolled her eyes, walking over to sit beside Klein. Max distributed the foil-wrapped burgers and cartons of fries. The tension at the table dissolved into the quiet sounds of chewing, the greasy, salty food acting as a temporary truce.
Exhausted from his mechanical battles, Grandpa Max retired to his bunk immediately after eating. Seeing the dark sky outside, the kids quickly followed suit. The RV descended into silence.
About an hour later, Klein's eyes snapped open in the dark. He slipped out from under his blanket, his movements completely silent. It was time to go acquire a certain pocket watch.
But as his feet touched the floorboards, he froze. A shadow moved near the front of the cabin.
Ben was out of bed.
Klein swallowed a sudden lump of guilt. Had Ben caught him sneaking out? He prepared a casual excuse, ready to bluff his way out of the situation.
"Uh, Ben, did I wake you? Actually... Ben?"
Klein paused. Ben was not looking at him. In fact, Ben was not looking at anything. The ten-year-old stood perfectly rigid, his eyes wide open but completely blank, staring straight through the walls of the RV. Moving with a stiff, unnatural gait, Ben walked past Klein, pushed the RV door open, and stepped out into the cool night air.
Klein frowned, his guilt evaporating, replaced by sharp curiosity. He slipped out the door, following closely behind.
Outside, the parking lot was bathed in the sickly yellow glow of streetlights. Ben raised his left arm. His right hand slapped down on the Omnitrix dial.
A brilliant flash of emerald light illuminated the asphalt. Where the boy had stood, the towering, crystalline form of Diamondhead now crouched. Without a single word, the alien turned and began sprinting in the direction of the nearby shopping mall.
Klein watched the retreating figure, crossing his arms. The mall was closed. The lights were off. Diamondhead did not look like he was going window shopping.
Klein sighed, tapping the faceplate of his Another Omnitrix. A ghostly blue light erupted, washing over the parking lot.
The sleek, feline form of Fasttrack stretched his legs, the blue and black suit clinging tightly to his aerodynamic frame. He kicked off the ground, the asphalt cracking slightly under the force of his acceleration.
"Ben, listen to me, stop first!" Fasttrack yelled, blurring past the crystal alien and skidding to a halt directly in his path. "Maybe you have been wronged, but you cannot just rob a place! At least not so openly! Grandpa will find out. If it is really necessary, I can teach you how to steal secretly. Anyway, just stop first... Ben? Ben!"
Diamondhead did not even blink. He simply adjusted his trajectory, stepping around Fasttrack as if the speedster were nothing more than a misplaced traffic cone, and continued his heavy, thudding jog toward the mall.
"Something is wrong. Is this... sleepwalking? Or something similar?" Fasttrack muttered, watching the crystalline giant march away.
The blank stare. The robotic obedience. The pieces clicked together in Fasttrack's mind.
"...Could it be him?! That shorty really is not a good person!"
Sublimino. The bizarre little man with the hypnotic pocket watch from the stage show this morning. The lingering effects of the hypnosis must have triggered a secondary command.
"Never mind, let us get Ben back to normal first."
Fasttrack vanished in a blur of blue motion, instantly reappearing directly in front of Diamondhead. He reached out, aiming a precise tap at the Omnitrix symbol glowing on the alien's left pectoral.
Before his fingers could make contact, Diamondhead's chest shifted. A thick, jagged slab of pale green crystal erupted from his armor, forming a dense dome directly over the Omnitrix dial.
Fasttrack pulled his hand back, staring at the defensive formation. He was not surprised that Diamondhead had a countermeasure. He was, however, staring at the shape of it. The Omnitrix symbol was located squarely on the left side of Diamondhead's chest. The resulting dome of crystal jutting outward looked exactly like a single, sharply pointed breast.
Fasttrack stared at it for a long second.
"Ben, since you will not change back, I will just have to knock you awake. Do not blame me!"
Fasttrack slammed his palm into the Another Omnitrix badge on his own chest.
A blinding, ghostly blue light swallowed the street.
"Humungousaur!"
The deep, guttural roar shook the nearby light poles. The three-meter-tall dinosaur materialized, his thick, plated muscles expanding rapidly. He did not stop growing. Bone cracked and shifted, scales hardening into thick armor as his mass multiplied exponentially.
Within seconds, the massive shadow of a twenty-meter-tall Humungousaur completely eclipsed the streetlights, plunging Diamondhead into total darkness.
Humungousaur looked down at the tiny crystal figure. He pulled back a fist the size of a minivan.
The punch broke the sound barrier.
The impact was deafening. Humungousaur's knuckles slammed into Diamondhead, driving the crystal alien straight through the asphalt, shattering the road into flying chunks of debris.
"Are you awake! Are you awake! Are you awake!"
Humungousaur did not stop. He brought his fists down in a brutal, alternating rhythm, treating the street like a bongo drum. Each strike sent shockwaves through the ground, rattling the windows of the distant mall. The crater grew deeper and wider with every devastating blow, dust and pulverized rock billowing into the night air.
Not long after, the dust began to settle.
The good news was that Diamondhead had stopped moving. The bad news was that Diamondhead had stopped moving.
Humungousaur exhaled a heavy breath, shrinking rapidly back down to his base three-meter size. He stepped to the edge of the massive crater and hopped down. Diamondhead lay embedded in the bedrock, his arms splayed out. The single, questionable crystal shield on his chest had been entirely pulverized into fine glitter.
Humungousaur reached out and tapped the exposed Omnitrix dial.
A flash of green light washed over the pit, leaving a very bruised, very unconscious Ben sprawled in the dirt.
Another flash of ghostly blue light illuminated the crater, and Klein stood in Humungousaur's place, dusting off his hands. He hopped down next to his cousin, crouching low. He pressed two fingers under Ben's nose.
A steady breath tickled his skin.
Klein nodded in satisfaction. Ben had only fainted from the blunt force trauma. He grabbed Ben by the collar, hoisted the boy onto his back like a sack of potatoes, and began the quiet walk back to the Rustbucket.
...
The next morning.
The sun beat down on the outdoor promenade of the shopping mall. Grandpa Max marched cheerfully ahead, a list of required engine parts and fast-food orders in his hand.
"Dweeb, hurry up," Gwen called back over her shoulder, clearly annoyed by the slow pace.
"Ugh... I cannot hurry," Ben groaned, his face pale. He was walking at the speed of a wounded snail, both hands clutching his lower back as if holding his spine together. "I feel like my whole body hurts terribly right now!"
Klein walked beside him, his expression perfectly neutral, not a single muscle twitching on his face. "Who knows, maybe you just have a stiff neck."
Ben stopped, staring at his cousin in utter confusion. "How could a stiff neck make my kneecaps hurt?!"
"Who told you not to sleep well at night? Whose fault is it that your sleeping posture is so bad?" Klein replied smoothly, not missing a beat.
Gwen dropped back to walk beside them, a thoughtful frown on her face. "Speaking of last night... Oh, right, Cousin, was there an earthquake last night? I vaguely felt the ground shaking."
Klein looked straight ahead, his hands tucked casually into his pockets.
"I do not know. I slept very soundly last night."
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