Ultimate Fairy: Chapter 7 (Patreon)

 Disclaimer: Ben 10 was created by Man of Action and is owned by The Cartoon Network, Inc. (Warner Bros. Discovery). Fairy Tail was created by Hiro Mashima and is published by Kodansha. I do not own any characters, settings, or other copyrighted material from either series. This is a nonprofit fan work created for entertainment purposes only.

…

Ultimate Fairy

Chapter 7: A Lesson from an Angel

…

The first thing Wendy recognized after the light faded was warmth. It wasn't fire or sunlight, but something softer than that. A blanket tucked around her shoulders, a pillow beneath her cheek, and the faint scent of wool, smoke, and unfamiliar herbs lingering in the air.

She tried to open her eyes, but the room swayed before she could make sense of it. A small, miserable sound slipped from her throat, and before Wendy could gather enough strength to lift her head, a familiar paw pressed gently against her arm.

"Don't move," Carla said, her voice low and firm. "You've already done quite enough of that."

Wendy blinked slowly until the world stopped blurring. It took her a moment to realize she was in Flare's room, lying in her bed. "Carla?"

"I'm here, child," she said, sitting beside the pillow. Her ears were angled back in worry, though she was trying very hard to look stern instead. "Unfortunately, so are you."

Wendy's brow furrowed weakly. "What happened?"

"You collapsed." Her eyes narrowed, but there was no real anger in them. "And scaring several years off my life."

"Oh." Wendy stared at the ceiling for a few seconds, trying to put the pieces back together. The Eternal Flame. Casting Milky Way. Atlas Flame. Ben turning into Heatblast. Crimson fire being passed onto him. "Is everyone okay?"

Carla let out a tiny breath through her nose. "Yes. Everyone is fine."

That was all Wendy needed to hear. Her eyelids immediately grew heavy again.

Carla noticed and softened despite herself. "Sleep, child. I'll be here when you wake."

Wendy tried to nod, but even that felt like too much effort. Within seconds, the room slipped away from her again.

When she woke again, daylight had shifted across the room.

Flare was sitting in a chair near the bed with both hands folded in her lap, looking like she had been caught doing something she was not supposed to. The moment Wendy's eyes opened, Flare sat up straighter.

"You're awake," Flare said, then immediately lowered her voice as if she had shouted. "I-I mean… you're awake."

Wendy gave her a faint smile. "Hi, Flare."

Flare's expression trembled with relief. "Hi."

A large shadow moved beyond the little room's inner window, followed by a careful knock against the stone frame. Even the knock was gentle, though it still made the wall give a soft thump.

"Flare?" Yrsa asked from the other side. "May I pass something in?"

The red-haired girl turned quickly toward the opening built into the wall beside her small table. From inside the room, it looked like a wide window with a deep stone sill. From the giant-sized hall outside, it was barely more than a serving niche.

Flare was already moving toward it.

Yrsa lowered herself until her warm, worried face filled much of the opening. In one hand, she held a tray that looked comically tiny between her fingers, though the bowl resting on it was sized for Wendy.

"You should eat a little," Yrsa said gently. "Only if you can."

The Giant lady eased the tray through the window with careful fingers, setting it on the broad sill as though placing glass near a sleeping baby. Flare took it with both hands and carried it to the low table beside the bed.

Wendy tried to push herself up, but her arms failed almost immediately.

Flare was on her feet in an instant. "Wait, I'll help."

Carla, who had been dozing at the foot of the bed, opened one eye. "Carefully."

"I know," the red-haired girl said, flustered.

Together, Flare and Carla helped Wendy sit against the pillows. Yrsa remained outside the little window, one hand resting against the stone frame, close enough to watch over them.

Wendy took the spoon with both hands. The stew smelled simple and warm, but after two spoonfuls, her arms started to feel heavy again.

Flare noticed. "You don't have to finish."

"I'm okay," Wendy murmured.

"You are not," Carla said at once.

The bluenette puffed her cheeks weakly. "I can eat."

"You can also sleep for two days straight," the white feline replied, folding her arms. "Your talent for worrying me continues to grow."

Wendy's eyes widened. "Two days?"

From near the window, Yrsa's expression softened. "The doctor said you experienced magic exhaustion, dear. Your body forced itself to rest before anything worse could happen."

Wendy blinked slowly, still trying to process that. "So… I was really asleep for two full days?"

"Not fully," Flare said quickly, leaning a little closer. "You woke up a few times. Only for a little while."

"You asked whether Ben was all right three separate times," Carla added. "Then fell asleep before I could finish answering."

Wendy's cheeks warmed. "I did?"

"You also asked if Flare's bed was always this soft," Carla said. "Then you apologized to the pillow."

Flare smiled despite her worry. "The pillow forgave you."

Wendy let out a tiny, embarrassed sound, then took another spoonful of stew. She wanted to ask more, but the warmth in her stomach made her eyes start drifting shut again.

Yrsa noticed at once. "That's enough for now."

"But I only ate a little…"

"A little is still something," Flare said softly.

Wendy tried to argue, but sleep pulled at her too hard. The spoon lowered in her hands, and Carla took it before it could slip.

"Honestly," Carla murmured, though her voice was gentler than usual. "You are impossible."

By the time Flare helped ease her back onto the pillow, Wendy was already asleep again.

…

Outside, Sun Village had not completely returned to normal. The memory of the cages and the Rabid Weasels still lingered. Parents held their children longer than usual, warriors checked the gates more often, and the younger Giants played loudly, as if noise itself could prove they were safe.

Ben spent those days moving between all of it.

He checked on Wendy often but never stayed too long. Carla had taken up permanent guard near Flare's bed, and Ben had enough survival instinct not to argue with a worried female, regardless of species. Instead, he would step into the doorway, ask quietly how Wendy was doing, get glared at for hovering, and retreat before Carla could say anything sharper.

After that, he found other ways to keep busy.

On the first day, he helped repair the parts of the village that had been damaged. As Kolossus, he hauled broken stones and lifted cracked beams while Giant builders directed him with approving nods. On the second, he carried supplies from the storage halls, then spent nearly an hour letting the younger children climb onto his arms while he pretended they were too heavy to lift.

"You are not trapped," Sola called from nearby, watching as a group of children piled onto Ben's shoulders.

Kolossus had one knee planted in the grass, both arms pinned dramatically beneath three laughing children. "That's what they want you to think."

A small boy grabbed one of his braids and tugged. "We got him!"

"Oh no," Kolossus said in a perfectly flat voice. "Defeated by tiny people. My one weakness."

Sola burst out laughing. "You are terrible at pretending."

"I'm great at pretending," Kolossus replied. "I'm pretending this isn't doing serious damage to my reputation."

Flare stood a little behind Sola, watching with a faint smile. She had been quieter since Wendy collapsed, often drifting between the room and the village paths without seeming to know where she wanted to be.

Kolossus noticed, even while being attacked by children.

"You okay over there, Flare?" he asked.

Flare startled slightly. "I'm fine."

Sola glanced down at her. "She has been saying that a lot. It means she is not fine."

Flare shot her a look. "Sola."

"What? It is true."

Kolossus carefully lifted one arm, raising two children into the air as they cheered. "For the record, saying you're fine when you're obviously not is a classic move. Very popular. Terrible success rate though."

Flare lowered her gaze. "I just… feel bad. Wendy helped save everyone, then she collapsed because of us."

Kolossus's expression softened, though he kept his voice light for the children clinging to him. "Wendy would probably say she collapsed because she wanted to help. There's a difference."

Flare's fingers tightened against the front of her red overdress.

"She's stronger than she looks," the Giant man added. "And way more stubborn."

Sola nodded firmly. "She is tiny, but fierce."

"She'll like that… Actually, no. She'll get embarrassed, then like it."

That made Flare smile a little more.

A girl sitting on Kolossus's shoulder leaned over and poked his cheek. "Can we play the ball game again?"

His face immediately went serious. "Football?"

"Yes!"

"Ah," he said gravely. "A dangerous request. Last time, several of you committed crimes against sports."

Sola planted both hands on her hips. "I scored."

"You tackled two people and called it strategy."

"It worked."

"It was illegal."

Sola grinned. "But it worked."

Kolossus stared at her for a moment, then looked toward Flare. "She's going to be a menace when she grows up."

Flare sighed softly. "She already is."

"I heard that!"

…

That evening, Wendy woke to the soft scrape of something being set down beside the bed.

At first, she thought it was Carla shifting in her sleep. She then blinked through the haze and found Ben crouched beside the low table, carefully placing a cup of water next to a small plate of sliced fruit.

Wendy stared at him sleepily. "Ben?"

He froze with one hand still hovering over the plate. "And that's why I should never become a burglar," he whispered. "Way too much dramatic tension."

Carla, curled near the foot of the bed, opened one eye. "You would also talk during the robbery."

"Probably," Ben admitted.

Wendy gave a small laugh, though it came out weak.

Ben's expression softened as he lowered himself to sit on the edge of the bed, careful not to jostle her. "How're you feeling?"

"Tired," she murmured. "But better."

"Good. Better is good. You were out for a while." He glanced briefly toward Carla. "Carla started looking at everyone like she was deciding who to blame first."

"I was not," she denied.

Ben pointed at her without looking away from Wendy. "That sounded suspiciously like denial."

Carla's tail flicked. "And that sounded suspiciously like you volunteering to sleep outside."

Wendy smiled again, but her fingers curled lightly into the blanket. After a moment, her gaze lowered. "I'm sorry I worried everyone."

Ben's humor eased into something gentler. "Hey. You don't have to apologize for needing rest after doing something amazing. Not everyone can fight a dark guild wizard and revive a Dragon's spirit all in the same day."

"But I collapsed."

"Yeah," his voice became softer. "That happens sometimes. Even to people who know what they're doing."

The bluenette's mouth tightened, and the teen hero could see the thought starting to pull her somewhere worse. Before it could take hold, he leaned back on one hand and tilted his head as if an idea had just dropped into place.

"How about I tell you about one of my old adventures?" he offered.

She perked up a little. "Really?"

Still lying down, Carla opened both eyes. "Should I be concerned by your definition of adventure?"

"Almost always," Ben said brightly.

Carla sighed. "Of course."

Ben smiled. "This one's about the time I became a professional wrestler."

Wendy blinked. "A what?"

Carla lifted her head. "I second that question."

Ben nodded gravely. "Professional wrestler. It's a sport and a kind of fighting competition where two people enter a ring and grapple with each other. There is no punching, kicking or weapons allowed, you win by pinning or knocking your opponent down until he can't get up for a three second count. There are big lights, a screaming crowd, a dramatic announcer, people selling snacks that were probably illegal in three states. The whole thing."

Wendy stared at him for a long second, then a tiny laugh escaped her. "Why were you a wrestler?"

"Well, you see," he said, holding up one finger, "when I was ten, I thought I broke my cousin Gwen's new laptop."

"Laptop?" she asked, tilting her head.

He paused. "Right. Different world." He rubbed his chin, thinking. "Okay, imagine a small folding magic box. Except it's not magic, not really. It just does a lot of things people here would probably call magic. You open it up, and there's a flat glowing screen on one side and a bunch of tiny buttons on the other."

Wendy slowly sat up a little more, curious despite her tiredness. "What does it do?"

"A lot. You can write on it, store information, look things up, play games, talk to people far away, watch videos, listen to music…" He paused when Wendy's eyes only widened further. "Uh, think of it like a book, a lacrima screen, a letter, a library, and a toy all smashed into one expensive little box."

Wendy stared at him in wonder. "Your world has those?"

"Yep."

Carla's eyes narrowed. "And children use them?"

"Sometimes."

The feline looked deeply troubled. "Your world gives children portable glowing library-toy-letter boxes?"

Ben pointed at her. "See, when you say it like that, it sounds irresponsible."

"It sounds irresponsible because it is irresponsible."

"Again," Ben said. "I said sometimes. Not all parents do it."

Wendy's brows knit as she tried to picture it. "So… you broke Gwen's glowing library box?"

Ben winced. "That is technically accurate, and somehow it sounds way worse when you say it."

Carla exhaled through her nose. "And your solution to fixing your cousin's laptop was public combat?"

"Exactly. Glad you're following." Ben tapped his chest with a proud little smirk. "I needed money to buy her a new one, and there was this wrestling tournament with a cash prize. So, I did what any responsible ten-year-old with an alien watch would do."

Wendy's eyes widened. "You transformed? Who did you change into?"

"Four Arms," he said, lifting both hands as if presenting the obvious answer. "Big red guy. Four arms. Very marketable. The crowd loved me."

Carla's expression flattened. "Of course they did."

"Hey, I was a natural. I had the moves, the attitude, the arms." He paused, then added, "Technically, twice the arms. That's a competitive advantage."

Wendy giggled into the blanket. "That sounds like cheating."

"It was wrestling. Half of it was cheating with better costumes." Ben's grin softened as he continued. "Anyway, I started winning. People were cheering, I was feeling pretty good about myself, and for about five minutes, I thought I had solved the whole problem."

"Only five minutes?" Carla asked dryly.

"That's usually how long my plans stay simple." The brunet leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Then I met these two brothers in the tournament. They looked scary at first, and we fought, but it turned out they weren't bad guys. They were just desperate."

Her smile faded a little. "Why?"

"They owed money to a really nasty mob boss. He was threatening their mother and their home, so they entered the tournament because they needed the prize money more than I did."

"Oh…" Wendy's voice went soft.

"Yeah." Ben rubbed the back of his neck. "So suddenly my whole 'buy Gwen a laptop before she destroys me' plan felt kind of stupid."

"It was stupid before that," Carla said.

"Thank you, Carla."

"You're welcome."

Wendy smiled faintly again, but her eyes stayed on Ben. "What did you do?"

"What I had to." He shrugged like it was no big thing, though his voice warmed. "Helped them deal with the mob boss, made sure their mom was okay, and gave them the prize money."

Wendy's eyes softened. "But what about Gwen's laptop?"

Ben stared at the ceiling with the weary expression of someone revisiting a very old humiliation. "That's the best part. I got back, ready to confess everything, and it turned out I didn't break it at all."

Wendy blinked once. "You didn't?"

"Nope. Gwen had put a security lock on it so I couldn't mess with her stuff. The laptop was fine." Ben spread his hands. "So, I got beat up in a wrestling ring, became famous for like an hour, fought a crime boss, gave away all the money, and promised that I'd do all her chores for the rest of summer vacation.

Wendy gave a puzzled look. "Summer vacation?"

"You don't have that either?" Ben questioned, but he supposed it did make sense since this world seemed more about magic than regular civilization. They likely didn't put as much focus on education as in his world. "It's a time in my world when schools close down for the season and all students get around three months of free time to enjoy themselves on break before they have to return."

"Three whole months?" Wendy breathed, awed at the idea of going on vacation for that long.

"That's too much time for slacking off if you ask me." Carla remarked.

Ben gave her a deadpan look. "Hey, don't go dissing summer vacation. That was my favorite time of enjoyment as a kid." He then turned to Wendy again. "So anyway, in the end I ended up having to do weeks of chores because I thought I ruined something that was never broken in the first place. All that extra work when I owed her nothing, that was a real downer in my fun."

Wendy stared at him…and then started laughing. It was quiet and tired, but it was real.

Ben's smile widened at once, and even Carla's expression softened as Wendy hid half her face in the blanket.

"You're silly, Ben," Wendy murmured.

"I was ten." Ben defended himself. "Pretty sure dumb mistakes were a common thing for people at that age. At least it was over a trivial matter and not a serious issue."

"But…" Her smile grew smaller and warmer. "You still gave them the money."

"They needed it more."

"That was kind."

He shrugged. "Don't spread that around. I have a reputation."

Carla gave him a long look. "As what, exactly?"

"A mysterious and dangerous traveler."

"You told a bedridden child a bedtime story about accidentally becoming a wrestler."

Ben pointed at her. "A mysterious wrestler."

Wendy giggled again, then yawned before she could stop herself. The sound pulled at her whole body, and her eyelids began to droop.

Ben noticed and carefully pulled the blanket a little higher around her shoulders. "There. Moral of the story: don't touch your cousin's laptop, don't enter wrestling tournaments without a plan, and if a mob boss shows up, punch him responsibly."

"That's a strange moral," she whispered.

"Most of my life has strange morals."

Carla settled back down near Wendy's feet. "For once, I believe him."

Wendy's eyes slipped shut, though the smile stayed faintly on her face. "Ben?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad you helped them."

His expression softened. "Me too."

…

By the third morning, Wendy woke and stayed awake. Carla knew something was different before the bluenette even spoke. The girl's breathing was steadier, her brown eyes clearer, and though she still looked pale, the heavy fog of exhaustion had finally lifted from her face.

Wendy slowly pushed herself up on her elbows. "Carla?"

Her ears twitched. "Yes?"

"I think I can sit up."

Carla narrowed her eyes. "Thinking and doing are different things, child."

"I know." Wendy carefully pushed herself upright, moving slowly. Her arms trembled a little, but she managed it. "See?"

Carla stared at her for a long moment, then she turned her head toward the doorway. "Ben."

A beat passed.

Ben's voice answered from somewhere outside. "That sounded serious."

"It is."

Footsteps came closer, and Ben appeared in the doorway a few seconds later with Sola peering over his shoulder and Flare squeezing in beside her. Ben's expression changed the moment he saw Wendy sitting upright.

"Hey," he said, his voice softer than usual. "Look who's back from her dramatic nap."

Wendy smiled weakly. "It wasn't dramatic."

"You were asleep for most of two days," Ben said. "That's at least a little dramatic."

Sola leaned farther into the doorway. "I thought you might sleep for a week."

"Sola," Flare whispered sharply.

"What? I was worried."

Wendy's smile warmed. "I'm sorry I worried everyone."

Carla immediately flicked her tail. "You should be."

"Carla," Ben said.

"She should be," she repeated, though her voice wavered just enough to betray her.

Wendy looked down at her lap. "I didn't mean to."

The room quieted.

Ben stepped inside and crouched near the bed so he was closer to her eye level. "Nobody thinks you did."

Wendy glanced at him.

"You pushed yourself too hard. It happens. Not great, but it happens."

Carla's eyes narrowed. "That was suspiciously mature."

Ben pointed at her without looking away from Wendy. "Don't make it weird."

Wendy giggled. That sound alone seemed to ease something in everyone.

The Giant doctor came shortly after, a broad-shouldered elder with a white beard braided into three thick sections and a leather satchel hanging from one arm. Wendy had settled near the open edge of the smaller space, where he could kneel in the larger chamber and reach her without crowding the room.

From his satchel, the doctor drew out a set of tiny instruments that looked almost comically delicate between his massive fingers. Flare shifted beside the bed and explained, a little quietly, that he had made them for her years ago, back when the village was still learning how to care for someone so small.

The doctor examined Wendy with careful hands, asked her several simple questions, and had her stand only long enough to take three steps across the room and back.

Wendy wobbled once.

Ben shifted like he was about to catch her.

Carla beat him to it, flying up beside Wendy's shoulder. "Slowly."

"I'm okay," Wendy said, though she accepted the support.

The doctor watched her for another moment, then gave a slow nod. "The worst has passed."

Flare's shoulders sagged in relief.

"She will remain tired for a while," the doctor continued. "Her magic reserves were drained deeply, and her body has been repairing itself through rest. No big spells for two days."

Wendy's eyes widened. "Two days? But if something happens—"

"If something happens," Carla cut in, "Ben can turn into twenty different impossible things and make a mess of it. You can rest."

Ben lifted a finger. "For the record, it's way more than twenty."

"That is not the point."

"I know. I just like accuracy when it makes me sound cooler."

The doctor's mustache twitched with faint amusement. "Your friends are correct, little wind mage. Rest is also strength."

Wendy lowered her gaze, absorbing that with obvious difficulty. "I understand."

She did not sound like she liked it.

…

Later that morning, once Wendy had eaten properly and proven she could walk without swaying too badly, the trio prepared to leave.

Flare insisted on packing food for them, even though Yrsa had already prepared more than enough. Sola insisted on helping, which mostly meant adding things Flare had not asked for and loudly arguing that travelers needed emergency snacks. Carla inspected everything with the seriousness of a military quartermaster, while Ben stood nearby and wisely decided not to get between them.

"Do we need this much bread?" Ben asked eventually.

Carla looked at him. "You complain when we run out of food."

"I complain when we run out of good food."

Sola pushed another wrapped bundle into the pack. "Then take more."

Ben squinted at the growing pile. "At this point, the emergency is going to be me carrying the emergency snacks."

Wendy sat nearby, wearing her own clothes again, though Flare had carefully folded the borrowed outfit and placed it beside her. Her hands rested in her lap as she watched the others, a soft smile on her face.

Flare noticed her looking and stepped closer. "Are you sure you're well enough to leave?"

Wendy nodded. "I'm still tired, but I can walk."

Carla turned sharply. "Slowly."

Wendy smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, slowly."

Flare's red eyes lowered to the outfit she had loaned Wendy. "You can keep them, if you want."

Wendy blinked. "Really?"

The redhead nodded, suddenly shy again. "They looked nice on you. And… I would like you to have something from here."

Wendy's expression softened. "Thank you. I'll take good care of them."

Sola leaned down, grinning. "You should wear them when you visit again. Then we can match."

Flare's face turned red. "Sola."

"What? It would be cute."

"It would," Wendy said, smiling.

Flare looked betrayed by how easily Wendy had agreed.

The farewell gathered naturally near the front of the village. Word had spread quickly that Ben, Wendy, and Carla were leaving, and by the time they reached the gate, much of Sun Village had come to see them off. Giant children crowded near the front. Parents stood behind them, hands resting on small shoulders. Warriors lined the path with solemn respect, while the Eternal Flame burned steadily in the distance.

Hrothar stood at the center of the gate, tall and unmoving, with Yrsa beside him.

Wendy slowed when she saw everyone. "Oh…"

Ben glanced at the crowd, then leaned slightly toward Carla. "Is it too late to sneak out the side?"

"Yes," Carla said. "And don't you dare."

"I was mostly kidding."

"Mostly is not enough."

Hrothar stepped forward and lowered himself to one knee so he would not tower quite so much over the three travelers.

"Ben Tennyson," he said, his deep voice carrying across the village. "Wendy Marvell. Carla. Sun Village remembers what you have done."

Ben rubbed the back of his neck, already uncomfortable. "You really don't have to make it sound so official."

Hrothar's gaze settled on him. "I do."

Ben closed his mouth. Carla looked faintly satisfied.

"You came as strangers," the chief continued. "You leave as friends. If your road ever brings you back to these mountains, our gates will open for you."

Yrsa smiled warmly. "And our hearths."

Several children immediately cheered at that.

One boy cupped his hands around his mouth. "Come back and play football!"

Another shouted, "No tackling next time!"

Sola threw both arms up. "Tackling makes it better!"

Ben pointed at her. "You are banned from writing the rules."

Sola laughed loudly.

Wendy's eyes shone as she looked over the gathered villagers. "Thank you. For taking care of me."

"You saved our children," Yrsa said gently. "Let us care for you in return."

Wendy swallowed and nodded.

Flare had been standing very still beside Sola, trying to keep her composure with both hands clenched in front of her. She held it together until Wendy turned toward her and her face crumpled.

Wendy stepped forward. "Flare…"

Flare immediately rushed in and hugged her. She was careful, almost painfully careful, as if afraid Wendy might break if held too tightly.

"I'm going to miss you," Flare whispered.

Wendy hugged her back. "I'll miss you too."

(A/N: Credit to Masamune X23)

Sola made a loud sniffling sound and dropped to her knees beside them. "This is unfair. I only just met you properly."

Wendy laughed softly, though her eyes were wet too. "You can come visit someday."

Sola blinked. "Really?"

Wendy nodded. "Cait Shelter is in the Worth Woodsea. If you want, you can come too."

The redhead pulled back slightly, hope cutting through her tears. "You mean that?"

"Of course," the Dragon Slayer smiled. "I'd like you to meet everyone."

Flare wiped at one eye, trying and failing to look dignified. "Then I'll come. When I'm older. I'll journey into the human world and see it for myself."

Sola leaned in. "And I'll come because someone has to make sure she doesn't get lost."

Flare frowned through her tears. "I would not get lost."

"You absolutely would."

"I would not."

Ben glanced at Carla. "They're going to fit in great."

Carla sighed. "That is exactly what concerns me."

Flare hugged Wendy once more, and this time Sola joined carefully, wrapping both of them in a much larger embrace that nearly made Wendy squeak.

"Careful," Carla warned at once.

Sola froze. "Sorry."

Wendy giggled weakly. "It's okay."

At last, the trio started down the road and the village applauded.

It began with the children, small hands clapping together as loud as they could manage. The adults soon joined in, the sound growing deeper and heavier until the whole gate seemed to tremble. Wendy looked overwhelmed by the noise, but she smiled through it, lifting one hand in a small wave.

Ben walked a step behind her, pack over one shoulder, his expression caught somewhere between embarrassed and touched.

Carla hovered close to Wendy's side. "Do not wave too much, child. You'll tire yourself out."

"Carla," Wendy said, laughing softly.

Behind them, Flare stood at the gate with both hands pressed over her mouth, tears running freely now. Sola wrapped one arm around her shoulders and waved with the other, shouting goodbye loudly enough that it echoed off the mountains.

"Come back!" Sola called. "And bring more ball games!"

Ben turned and walked backward for a few steps. "Only if you promise to learn the rules!"

"No!"

"At least she's honest," the teen hero muttered.

Wendy waved one last time. "Goodbye!"

Flare lowered her hands just enough to call back, her voice shaking. "Goodbye, Wendy!"

The road curved gradually away from Sun Village, slipping between stone ridges and dry mountain grass. The applause faded little by little behind them, replaced by wind moving through the rocks.

…

A day after leaving Sun Village behind, the road east narrowed into a winding path between the southern mountains. The air had cooled as they climbed, dry desert heat giving way to sharper mountain wind that tugged at Wendy's blue hair and rustled Carla's skirt. Below them, the valleys stretched out in long, dusty layers of stone and scrub, while ahead the road bent around jagged cliffs and pale rock walls.

Ben walked with his hands tucked into his jacket pockets, keeping an easy pace beside Wendy. Carla hovered near the girl's shoulder as she watched the path ahead.

For once, Wendy was not filling the silence. She had smiled when they left the village. But since then, she had mostly walked quietly, her gaze lowered toward the road.

At first, Ben thought she was just tired. After what had happened in Sun Village, tired made sense. Still, tired and quiet were not the same thing. Ben glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "You doing okay over there?"

Wendy startled slightly, then looked up at him with a quick smile that arrived a little too late. "Huh? Oh, yes. I'm fine."

Ben slowed half a step. "That was a very 'I'm not fine' fine."

Her smile wavered. "I really am okay. I'm not dizzy anymore, and I can walk without getting tired so quickly."

"That's not what I asked."

Carla's ears twitched, and she turned her head toward Wendy. "He is right, child. You have been unusually quiet."

Wendy's shoulders drew in. "I was just thinking."

Ben lifted a brow. "About?"

"Things," she said quickly.

"Do you realize how little that narrows it down?"

Carla folded her arms. "Wendy, avoiding the question only makes you look more suspicious."

"I'm not suspicious," Wendy said, her cheeks coloring faintly.

"You are a terrible liar," the white feline replied.

Ben nodded along. "Tragic, really. Zero villain potential."

Despite herself, Wendy let out a tiny laugh, though it faded quickly. She looked down at her hands, flexing her fingers once as if remembering the feel of wind gathering around them.

Ben saw that and softened a little. "Hey," he said, quieter now. "Whatever it is, you can say it."

Wendy walked a few more steps before answering. The mountain road crunched softly under their feet, and the wind moved past them in a low, hollow whistle between the rocks.

"I'm happy we saved everyone," she said at last. "I really am. Flare, Sola, all the children… I'm glad they're safe."

"But?" Ben asked gently.

Wendy bit her lip. "But I don't feel like I did very well."

Carla's expression sharpened at once. "Wendy."

"I know we won," she added quickly, looking between them. "I know the Rabid Weasels were defeated, and I'm not saying I didn't help."

Ben kept quiet, letting her find the words.

Wendy drew in a small breath. "It's just… Carla had to carry me almost the whole time. If she hadn't kept me in the air, I don't think I could have beaten Gordon."

"That is what teamwork is for, child."

"I know. And I'm grateful. But even with your help, I still used too much magic. I had to keep moving, keep attacking, keep trying to stay away from his granite." Wendy’s fingers curled against the front of her dress. "I keep thinking that maybe… there should have been a better way. Maybe I relied on my strongest spells too much. Maybe I should have had simpler ways to fight without using so much magic."

Ben's usual joking expression faded.

That was not the kind of insecurity that came from panic or self-pity. Wendy was not calling herself useless. She was looking back at a fight, finding the weak points in her own performance, and hating that she had not known how to fix them.

That was different. It was also very familiar to Ben.

Carla drifted closer, her sternness softening around the edges. "You faced an adult wizard with years more experience than you. A dangerous one. No one expected you to handle that perfectly."

Wendy nodded, but her eyes stayed lowered. "I know. But if something like that happens again, I don't want to only survive because I used everything I had."

The wind moved across the mountain path again, lifting strands of her hair around her face.

The Sky Dragon Slayer then looked up at the Omnitrix bearer. "Ben," she said, voice small but steady, "will you help me train?"

He blinked. "Me?"

She nodded. "Yes."

Ben stared at her for a second, completely off guard. "Uh… Wendy, I'm not exactly a wizard teacher or anything like that. I mean, I know some magic people. My cousin does magic. I've fought wizards. But teaching Sky Dragon Slayer Magic?" He pointed at himself. "That is very much not on my resume."

Carla nodded, recovering some of her usual composure. "For once, he is making sense. Your magic came from Grandeeney. Ben's knowledge of magic is mostly observation, guesswork, and whatever reckless conclusions he draws five seconds before doing something dangerous."

Ben frowned at her. "That was weirdly accurate and hurtful."

"It was meant to be both."

Wendy shook her head quickly. "I know you can't teach me the way Grandeeney could. That's not what I mean."

Ben looked back at her.

"You have so many different forms," Wendy continued. "They all do different things, but you always find ways to use them. Even when it's strange or difficult, you think of something." Her fingers tightened with nervous determination. "I want to learn that. I want to understand my magic better, not just use the same spells harder."

Ben's mouth opened, but no joke came out.

Wendy held his gaze, her cheeks pink but her voice steadier now. "I don't want to collapse every time I have to protect someone."

For a moment, Ben said nothing. He then exhaled slowly through his nose and looked ahead at the mountain road. The path twisted upward toward a wide plateau between two cliffs.

When he looked back at Wendy, his expression had changed into a focused one. "Okay."

Wendy's eyes widened. "Really?"

"Really." He pulled one hand from his pocket and lifted a finger. "But if we do this, we do it my way."

Carla blinked. "Your way?"

"My responsible way," he said, giving the cat a pointed look.

"That exists?"

"Apparently." He turned back to Wendy before Carla could add anything worse. "Rule one: no pushing through dizziness. If you get lightheaded, you stop."

Wendy straightened. "Right."

"Rule two: no big spells unless I say so. No Roars, No Wing Attacks, no giant wind blasts, and no 'I can do it if I just try harder' stuff."

Wendy's face warmed like that rule had found her guilty before she could defend herself. "O-okay."

"Rule three," he continued, holding up another finger, "no pretending you're fine when you're not."

Carla immediately looked at Wendy. "That one will be difficult."

Wendy winced. "Carla…"

"She isn't wrong. And rule four: if you collapse, training is over. Not paused. Over. We rest, we eat, and nobody argues with me about it."

Wendy stared at him for a moment. "You sound really serious."

"I am serious."

Carla studied him closely, eyes narrowing. "That was… organized."

Ben gave her a sideways look. "Hey, I can be responsible when I want to."

"That is what worries me," she replied. "This means you are choosing not to be most of the time."

Wendy covered her mouth, but a small giggle escaped anyway.

Ben pointed at Carla. "Don't get used to it."

"I won't," she said, lifting her chin. "You will become annoying again soon enough."

"Good. I'd hate to disappoint."

Wendy's smile lingered this time, softer and more real than the one she had forced earlier. Something in her posture had eased, like asking had been harder than she expected and being taken seriously had helped more than she knew how to say.

…

The mountain plateau sat higher than Wendy expected.

The road curved upward between two pale cliffs before opening into a wide shelf of stone, short mountain grass, and a twisted juniper tree growing off to the side, its low branches bent by years of mountain wind. From there, the southern ridges stretched behind them in layered browns and reds, while the sky above felt impossibly open, so clear and blue that Wendy found herself staring at it for several quiet seconds.

Ben stepped onto the plateau first and looked around with an approving nod. "Yeah. This'll work."

Carla hovered beside Wendy, her ears twitching as she inspected the uneven ground. "This place is exposed, uneven, and far from the main road."

"Exactly," Ben said. "Which is why it's perfect for Wendy's training area."

Wendy took a few careful steps onto the plateau. The air felt cooler up here, cleaner too. When she breathed in, it filled her lungs differently, thinner but sharper, as if every breath had to be drawn with a little more care.

Ben noticed her taking it in and pointed upward. "You're the Sky Dragon Slayer, right? So training closer to the sky makes sense."

Wendy blinked, then looked at him. "Because of the air?"

"Pretty much." He walked farther out and tapped the toe of his shoe against the stone, testing the ground. "Cleaner air, thinner air, harder breathing. If you can learn to control your magic up here, normal air should feel easier later."

Carla crossed her arms. "That is surprisingly reasonable."

Ben looked back at her. "You sound shocked."

"I am."

Wendy smiled faintly, though her fingers still curled nervously against the strap of her bag. The idea of training made her excited, but the word also made something tighten in her chest. Training meant trying. Trying meant failing where Ben and Carla could see.

Ben turned back toward her, and his expression softened a little. "First thing, though. We're not doing anything big today."

Wendy paused. "Nothing big?"

"No Roars. No Wave Wind. No giant blasts. No 'let me see if I can knock over that boulder' ideas."

Her cheeks warmed at once. "I wasn't thinking that."

Carla slowly turned her head toward her.

Wendy looked away. "Not very seriously."

"Uh-huh," Ben said, clearly not buying it. "Today is basics."

"But if I don't practice my stronger spells, how will I get stronger?" Wendy asked before she could stop herself.

Ben crouched near the edge of the plateau and picked up a piece of blackened wood from an old fire pit someone must have left behind. "Because getting stronger isn't always about making a bigger boom."

He walked to a flat stone and started writing on it with the charcoal. The letters came out rough, uneven, and a little crooked, but clear enough to read.

Warm-up. Breathing. Air control. Footwork. Rest. Repeat.

Carla came closer and stared at the list. "I did not realize you knew what structure looked like."

"I'm just full of surprises, huh?" Ben tapped the stone with the charcoal. "The goal is not more power. The goal is wasting less power."

He tossed the charcoal aside and dusted off his hands. "You already have power, Wendy. Plenty of it. I'm not saying there isn't room to get stronger, but we'll get there. Right now, the problem is that you keep using a whole storm when a breeze would do."

Carla's expression shifted. For once, she did not argue.

Wendy looked down at her hands. "I don't always know how not to."

"That's why we're here." Ben stepped back and rolled his shoulders. "We start slow. Warm-up first."

The warm-up was not exciting, and that was the first surprise.

Wendy had expected Ben's training to be strange, dramatic, or at least a little chaotic. Instead, he had her walk the edge of the plateau, then jog in a slow circle around a cluster of rocks. After that came stretching, light steps from side to side, and careful breathing in a rhythm he counted out loud.

"In through the nose," Ben said, walking backward in front of her with his hands raised like he was conducting something. "Out through the mouth. Don't hold it."

Wendy tried to follow. "I'm not."

"You are."

"I'm not trying to."

"That's why we're practicing."

Carla stood off to the side, watching closely. "Your shoulders rise every time you inhale. Relax them."

Wendy adjusted immediately, only to stumble when the next breath came too short. She stopped and coughed once, pressing her hand lightly against her chest.

Ben stopped too. "Break."

"I'm okay," she said quickly.

"Wendy."

She froze at the tone.

It was not loud or angry. It was just firm in a way she was not used to hearing from Ben unless something dangerous was nearby.

He pointed toward a rock. "Sit. Water."

Wendy opened her mouth, then closed it when Carla gave her a look that said arguing would be deeply unwise. She sat on the rock, accepted the water skin Ben handed her, and took a small drink.

Ben crouched in front of her. "That was rule one."

"I know," she murmured.

"Good. Because I'm not going to be fun about that one."

Carla blinked. "You are capable of not being fun?"

"Rare skill. I save it for emergencies."

Wendy looked down at the water skin in her lap. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. Just notice it. That's the point."

She looked up. "Notice it?"

"Yeah. You're used to gathering air like this." He planted his feet, puffed out his chest dramatically, and took an exaggerated breath so large it made Carla's ears flatten. "Big inhale. Big magic. Big blast."

Despite herself, Wendy giggled. "I don't look like that."

"You absolutely do not," Carla said. "You are much less ridiculous."

Ben lowered his hands. "Rude, but fair. Anyway, that works when you're throwing out a huge attack, but it also makes a giant opening. If you always need a few seconds to stop and breathe, somebody faster than Gordon is going to notice."

Wendy's fingers tightened around the water skin.

Ben's voice softened. "So, you learn to breathe while you move. Smaller breaths. Steadier breaths. You don't wait until you're empty."

Wendy nodded slowly. "Like… not letting my magic drop too low before I gather more."

"Exactly." Ben smiled. "See? You get it."

After a few minutes, they started again.

This time, Ben had Wendy walk first, then jog only when her breathing stayed even. If her shoulders tightened, Carla called it out. If Wendy tried to push through a wobble, Ben stopped her immediately. It was frustrating, but not in the way she had feared. He was not treating her like she was weak. He was treating every mistake like information. When they rested again, Wendy sat on the grass with her knees drawn in, breathing a little harder than she wanted to admit. Ben sat across from her and picked up a pebble, tossing it once before catching it.

"Okay. Think of your big attacks like a bucket of water."

Wendy tilted her head. "A bucket?"

"Yeah. If there's a fire, dumping the whole bucket makes sense. Very heroic. Very dramatic." Ben tipped the pebble from one hand to the other. "But if you just need a cup of water, dumping the whole bucket is a waste."

Carla landed lightly beside Wendy. "Crude, but understandable."

"Thank you, Professor Whiskers."

"Do not call me that."

Wendy looked at her hands again, thinking through it. "So, when I used too much magic against Gordon…"

"You were dumping buckets," Ben said. "Not because you're bad at this. Because nobody taught you when a cup is enough."

The words settled into her chest with strange warmth.

Ben held up one hand, palm open. "Take Heatblast. He doesn't just make fire. He creates it, controls how hot it gets, shapes it, and sends it where he wants. A fireball looks like one thing, but it's actually a bunch of little things happening together."

Wendy's eyes focused on him more fully.

"Diamondhead is the same," he continued. "He makes crystals, sure. But he also shapes them, hardens them, aims them, launches them, grows them from the ground, and blocks with them. If he only knew how to make giant crystal spikes, he'd still be strong, but way less useful."

Carla's ears twitched. "You want Wendy to break her magic down into separate actions."

Ben snapped his fingers and pointed at her. "Exactly."

Wendy looked up at the sky. "A Sky Dragon's Roar isn't just a wind blast."

Ben leaned forward slightly. "Right."

"It's…" She lifted one hand, her brow furrowing as she pictured it. "Breathing in. Gathering magic. Shaping the air. Compressing it. Aiming it. Releasing it."

Ben smiled. "There you go."

Carla nodded once, quietly approving. "If you understand the pieces, child, you can improve them separately."

Wendy stared at her palm. A tiny current stirred around her fingers, barely strong enough to lift a few strands of grass.

Ben pushed himself to his feet. "Ready for the next part?"

Wendy stood carefully. "Yes."

"No big spells," Carla reminded her.

"I know."

Ben activated the Omnitrix and scrolled the holo-ring until he found the icon he wanted. "Good. Then let's give you something to aim at."

Emerald light flashed across the plateau. When it faded, a tall, angular humanoid made of crystal and stone stood in Ben's place. His face and arms were aquamarine crystal, while the rest of his body looked like dense indigo rock. Six crystal shards protruded from his back like jagged fins, with two smaller ones jutting from his chest around the Omnitrix badge.

"Diamondhead!" he announced, his voice deeper and rougher.

Wendy smiled. "Wow. So this is Diamondhead, huh? It's so pretty."

Diamondhead tilted his head. "Pretty and extremely hard to break. Best of both worlds."

He pressed his palm to the ground, and a row of aquamarine crystals rose from the stone in neat, thumb-sized points. They were smooth and deliberate, each one shaped like a tiny faceted marker catching the sunlight. A few feet beyond them, he drew a shallow crystal ring into the stone, marking a small target area.

Wendy watched closely. "You can make them that small?"

"Control," Diamondhead said, tapping one of the tiny crystal markers with a faceted finger. "Not every problem needs a giant wall."

Carla blinked twice. That actually sounded wise. Something she wouldn't have expected from Ben.

Diamondhead stepped back and gestured toward the marked circle. "Start with a leaf. Guide it into this area."

Wendy picked up a dry juniper leaf from the grass and placed it in front of her. She lifted both hands, inhaled carefully, and summoned a tiny wind current beneath it.

The leaf shot upward, spun wildly, and tore in half before it even reached the first marker.

Wendy winced. "Sorry."

Diamondhead held up one finger. "No apologizing to leaves. They're very forgiving."

Carla landed on a nearby stone, her wings disappearing. "Use less force. You are not trying to launch it. You are trying to guide it."

Wendy nodded and chose another leaf. This time, she tried to keep the current smaller, easing the leaf forward instead of lifting it too quickly. It made it halfway toward the crystal ring before veering sharply left and sailing off the plateau edge.

Diamondhead leaned slightly to watch it disappear. "That one chose freedom."

Wendy pressed her lips together. "Ben…"

"Sorry. Serious teacher face." He cleared his throat and pointed to the marked circle. "Again."

She tried again. Then once more. The next several attempts were not much better. One leaf spun in circles until it shredded itself before reaching the target. Another drifted too high, dropped suddenly, bounced off the edge of the crystal ring, and slapped against Carla's face before fluttering to the ground.

Carla slowly peeled it off her nose.

Diamondhead began to snicker.

She turned her head toward him. "Do not."

"Too late." He grinned.

Wendy laughed before she could stop herself, and Carla's irritation softened a fraction at the sound.

After a few more failures, Wendy forced herself to stop rushing. She took a slower breath, relaxed her shoulders the way Carla had told her to, and focused on the space around the next juniper leaf instead of the leaf itself. The wind beneath it stirred softly, lifting it from the stone.

The leaf wobbled, but it did not spin out of control.

Wendy's eyes widened, but she did not gasp. She kept breathing, guiding the current forward in a careful stream. The leaf drifted over the first crystal marker, dipped once, then floated toward the ring.

It touched the edge, nearly slid away, and for one terrible second Wendy thought she had lost it.

She eased the wind instead of forcing it.

The leaf slipped over the crystal line and settled inside the ring.

Wendy froze. "I did it."

Diamondhead's faceted mouth curved into a smile. "You did."

Carla's expression softened with quiet pride. "Much better, child."

Wendy stared at the leaf like it had become something precious. It was only a small juniper leaf sitting inside a crystal ring, but she had placed it there without tearing it, throwing it, or exhausting herself. That tiny success made her chest feel lighter.

"Again," Diamondhead said, pointing toward another juniper leaf. "Before you overthink it."

Wendy nodded quickly and picked another dry juniper leaf from the grass. The second attempt was not as smooth. The leaf spun too fast, dipped sharply, and landed just outside the ring. But it had not torn apart.

"That was close," Wendy said, sounding a little more hopeful.

"Close counts in training," Diamondhead replied. "Not in, you know, surgery or bomb defusing, but definitely here."

Carla gave him a flat look. "What a comforting comparison."

"I'm full of those."

Wendy tried again. This time, the leaf moved in a slow, uneven curve before dropping neatly inside the ring beside the first one. Her smile grew. Then she tried a fourth, and a fifth. A few missed. One flipped over itself and skidded away. But more and more of them began landing inside the crystal circle.

By the time she managed to guide three leaves in a row into the ring, Wendy was almost bouncing on her heels.

"I'm starting to understand it," she said, looking at her hands. "If I push too hard, it fights me. But if I carry it…"

"Then it goes where you want," Diamondhead finished.

Carla nodded. "Because you are shaping the current instead of striking with it."

Wendy looked down at the little pile of juniper leaves inside the ring. "It feels different."

"That's control," Diamondhead said. "Small, boring, extremely useful control."

"It's not boring," Wendy said quickly.

"Good. Then you're going to love the next part."

Diamondhead crouched and picked up a pebble between two crystalline fingers, holding it up so the sunlight caught both the stone and the facets of his hand.

"Now we move to rocks."

Wendy's smile faltered. "Rocks?"

"Yep."

Carla's ears twitched. "That will require more force."

"Exactly." Diamondhead set the pebble on the stone in front of Wendy. "Leaves are light, but rocks have weight. You'll need more power to move them, but if you use too much, congratulations, you've invented tiny bullets."

Wendy swallowed and nodded. "Right. No tiny bullets."

"Excellent rule. Very safety-conscious."

The first pebble proved exactly as difficult as he had promised. Wendy summoned a current beneath it, but the stone only trembled in place. She added more force, trying to lift it the way she had lifted the leaves, and the pebble suddenly shot forward, zipped past the crystal ring, and disappeared over the side of the plateau.

Diamondhead leaned slightly to watch it go. "And that pebble has also chosen freedom."

Wendy sighed, her shoulders slumping. "This is harder."

"That means you're learning something new," he said. "Harder isn't bad. Harder just means your magic doesn't get to be lazy."

She looked down at the next pebble and tried again. This time, it lifted only a little before dropping, bouncing twice across the stone, clipping one of the crystal markers, and landing outside the ring with a tiny, unimpressive tap.

Carla tilted her head, studying the result. "Better. Messy, but better."

Wendy nodded, drawing in a steadier breath. "One more."

The third pebble launched straight forward and smacked Diamondhead in the forehead with a small crystalline ping.

Wendy clapped both hands over her mouth. "Ben! I'm sorry!"

Diamondhead stood perfectly still, completely unfazed. After a moment, he lifted one hand and rubbed a finger on the spot as if it were a minor itch. "Don't worry. You're good. As the name implies, Diamondhead is pretty hardheaded."

Carla folded her arms. "An accurate name. Though I would say the hardheaded part extends beyond this form."

He pointed at her. "I know you mean that as an insult, but I'm choosing to hear 'durable and dependable.'"

Wendy lowered her hands, laughing despite her embarrassment. The tightness in her chest loosened a little more.

"Okay," Diamondhead said, turning back to her. "New approach. Don't think of it like pushing the pebble into the ring. Think of it like carrying it there."

"Carrying it?" Wendy repeated.

"With air." He gestured around the pebble with one crystalline hand. "Make a little path around it. Don't punch it forward. Guide it."

Wendy looked down at the pebble, then nodded. She took a careful breath and lifted one hand, trying to feel the air around the stone instead of only behind it.

This attempt moved slower. The pebble wobbled, dipped once, then rose again as the current steadied beneath it. Wendy's fingers shifted carefully, shaping the wind in small adjustments instead of forcing one strong burst. The pebble drifted toward the crystal ring and dropped inside with a quiet click.

Wendy's eyes widened. "I did it."

"You did," Diamondhead said.

Carla's expression softened with quiet pride. "Much better."

Wendy smiled down at her hands, then quickly set up another pebble before the feeling could slip away.

The next hour passed in small steps.

One pebble became two. Two became three. Diamondhead made the rings smaller, then placed them farther apart, forcing Wendy to guide each stone in a different direction. Sometimes she lost control, and the pebbles scattered across the plateau. Sometimes the wind snapped too hard and sent one skittering out of bounds. Sometimes she forgot to breathe evenly, and either Diamondhead or Carla stopped her before she could push through it.

But each time, Wendy understood the mistake a little faster.

Eventually, Diamondhead had her return to leaves. "Same idea. Only gentler."

Wendy stood near the center of the plateau with three juniper leaves resting on the stone before her. The mountain wind moved around her on its own, tugging lightly at her hair and dress, but she tried not to fight it. She let herself feel where the air already wanted to go, then shaped her magic around it.

She breathed in steadily.

The first leaf rose. Then the second. The third trembled for a moment before lifting into the air.

Wendy's hands moved slowly, fingers spread as she guided the tiny currents around them. The leaves spun once too fast, and her eyes widened, but she did not panic. She exhaled carefully and eased the pressure instead of forcing them still.

The spiral steadied.

Three leaves circled her hand in a slow, gentle orbit, turning in the sunlight without tearing.

Carla's eyes widened slightly.

Diamondhead said nothing at first.

Wendy barely breathed, afraid one wrong movement would ruin it. But the leaves continued around her hand, light and delicate, carried by wind she was finally guiding instead of chasing.

A smile spread across her face. "I'm doing it," she whispered.

"Yeah," Diamondhead said, his voice softening. "You are."

The leaves made one more slow circle before Wendy let the wind fade. They settled onto the stone at her feet, whole and unbroken.

Carla lifted her chin, trying very hard to sound composed. "A respectable first step."

Wendy looked at her hopefully. "Really?"

"Yes. Do not let it make you reckless, though."

Diamondhead chuckled. "That's Carla for 'great job.'"

"It is not."

"It totally is."

Wendy laughed, her eyes bright as she looked down at the leaves again. It was such a small thing. Three leaves moving in a circle. Nothing impressive like a Roar spell, or anything that could defeat a dangerous wizard by itself.

But it had not drained her, nor had it hurt. It had been hers to control.

Diamondhead tapped the Omnitrix badge on his chest and returned to human form in a flash of green. Ben rolled his shoulders once, then pointed toward the shade of a nearby rock.

"Break time."

Wendy blinked. "But I can keep going."

"I know."

"Just a little more?"

"Nope."

She stared at him.

Ben pointed at the training list still written on the flat stone. "Warm-up. Breathing. Air control. Footwork. Rest. Repeat. We are on rest."

Carla looked from Ben to the list, then back again. "This may be the strangest day of my life."

"You're traveling with a superhero from another world and a girl raised by a dragon," Ben said.

"And yet."

…

The next morning, a cool breeze swept across the mountain plateau, carrying the scent of pine and the soft rustle of short grass. Wendy stood near the center with three fist-sized rocks resting on the ground in front of her, while Ben and Carla sat on a broad, flat stone nearby. Carla kept glancing at Ben every so often, still mildly unsettled by how seriously he had taken Wendy's training.

"Again," Ben said, tapping one finger against his knee. "And slower this time. We're teaching the rocks to fly, not launching them into the next kingdom."

Wendy nodded, though her cheeks colored faintly. "I wasn't doing that."

"You launched the last one so far it probably has its own mailing address by now."

"It only went over there," she replied, pointing toward the far edge of the plateau.

Carla followed the gesture. "Child, none of us actually saw where it landed."

Ben spread one hand toward her. "Thank you. The defense rests."

Wendy puffed out her cheeks, though there was much more life behind the expression than there had been the day before. She drew a careful breath, keeping her shoulders relaxed and her footing steady against the stone.

The first rock trembled before rising half an inch into the air.

Ben immediately raised a hand. "Good. Don't rush it. Just hold it there."

Wendy's fingers tensed. The rock wobbled violently before dropping back onto the ground with a dull click. Her shoulders slumped. "I lost it."

"Yeah," Ben said, leaning forward slightly, "but it didn't launch itself at my face this time. That's progress. Small, non-concussive progress."

Carla gave him a sideways glance. "Is that an official training term?"

"It is now."

"That does not make it official."

"Carla, I've been making things official since I was ten. It's basically a hobby."

Despite herself, Wendy smiled and tried again. This time she lifted two rocks together, guiding them toward the ring of crystal targets Ben had created as Diamondhead the previous day. They floated unevenly, one climbing higher than the other, but neither shot off uncontrollably. The wind suddenly shifted and Wendy's smile disappeared.

One rock fell.

The second drifted sideways before dropping near her foot, but she didn't seem to notice either one strike the ground.

Instead, her head slowly turned toward the mountainside beyond the plateau. Blue strands of hair lifted around her face as her brows drew together.

Ben noticed immediately. "Wendy?"

Carla's ears perked forward. "What is it?"

For several seconds, Wendy didn't answer.

She stared past the cliffs and the winding road they had climbed the day before, toward the rough stone face of the mountain itself.

The breeze came again. This time it felt colder. Not colder against her skin, but colder somewhere deeper.

"I don't know," she said quietly. "There's… something in the air."

Ben stood. "Something you can smell?"

She slowly shook her head. "No. Not exactly." Her fingers curled lightly against the front of her dress. "It's more like… a feeling. Like the wind is carrying someone's presence."

Carla's tail went still. "That does not sound reassuring."

Ben looked toward the mountains, the playful edge in his expression fading without disappearing completely.

"Okay. Are we talking about weird-magic feeling, immediate-danger feeling, or the kind where we walk over there and I spend the next hour regretting every decision that brought us here?"

Wendy never looked away from the cliffside. "I… don't know."

"That means the last option is still very much on the table," Carla observed.

Ben hummed thoughtfully. "Well, only one way to find out."

He tapped the Omnitrix faceplate. The green holo-ring sprang to life, and after scrolling briefly, he slammed the core downward.

Emerald light erupted across the plateau.

When it faded, an imposing eight-foot-tall creature stood where Ben had been. The alien possessed the unmistakable build of a massive wolf. Dark gray fur covered his powerful frame, while a flowing black mane ran down the back of his neck and a thick black tail swayed behind him. Long claws tipped each hand, bony spikes jutted from his shoulders and elbows, and a sleek white bodysuit marked with black stripes covered his torso and at its center was the Omnitrix badge.

"Blitzwolfer!" The declaration ended in a deep, echoing howl that rolled across the mountains like distant thunder.

Wendy stared up at him. "Whoa…"

Carla immediately summoned her wings and floated several feet backward. "W-Why would you choose a form like this?!"

Blitzwolfer glanced down at her with an amused grin. "Relax. I may look like a giant dog, but I'm not."

"My concern was not species," she replied flatly.

Ignoring her, Blitzwolfer lifted his muzzle into the breeze. His nostrils flared once and his glowing green eyes slowly closed.

Silence settled over the plateau. The mountain awakened around him. Wind whispered through distant cracks in the cliffs. Loose pebbles shifted somewhere far above. A flock of birds burst into flight nearly half a mile away. Tiny insects crawled beneath scattered stones.

Hundreds of scents drifted together across the mountainside. Dry earth. Sun-warmed granite. Mountain grass. Hidden springs. Wild animals. One by one, Blitzwolfer sorted through them, dismissing the ordinary until only the unfamiliar remained.

One ear twitched sharply.

Both then pointed toward the mountainside. "…Got something."

Carla blinked. "You can actually hear it?"

"Not just hear it." Blitzwolfer slowly opened his eyes and pointed a black claw toward the cliffs. "There's a scent mixed in with everything else. It's incredibly faint, but it's there."

He glanced down at Wendy. "Whatever you're sensing… It's coming from the same place as whatever I'm smelling."

He inhaled once more. "Old stone. Stale air." His ears flattened slightly. "And something else."

"What?" Carla asked.

Blitzwolfer frowned. "I don't know." He looked toward the cliff again. "I've never smelled anything quite like it before."

Carla folded her arms, unable to hide a hint of approval. "So your senses and Wendy's magic are both pointing to the same location."

Blitzwolfer started walking toward the mountain path. "We'll check it out." He looked back at the two of them. "But we do this carefully. Slow, quiet, and nobody touches anything that looks cursed, haunted, ancient, suspicious… or just generally creepy."

Wendy looked up at him. "You really think there's something creepy in the mountain?"

Blitzwolfer gave a dry chuckle. "Considering my life? If a mountain doesn't have something creepy inside it, that's usually the bigger surprise."

…

They left the open plateau and followed a narrow trail that wound along the mountainside. Wendy sat carefully across Blitzwolfer's broad back, both hands buried in the thick gray fur around his shoulders. Carla rode just behind her, one paw gripping Wendy's dress while the other rested against Loboan's back for balance. His long digitigrade legs carried them down the uneven path with surprising ease, each padded step nearly silent despite his size.

"You two still secure?" Blitzwolfer asked, glancing back.

"Yes," Wendy replied.

Carla tightened her hold around Wendy's waist. "As secure as one can be while riding an enormous wolf creature down a mountain."

Blitzwolfer's ears flicked backward. "Technically not a wolf."

"Large fangs. Pointed ears. Fur. Tail. You howl at the moon."

"I don't howl at the moon."

"You howled five minutes ago."

"That was tactical."

Carla gave a tiny nod. "An enormous tactical wolf."

Blitzwolfer let out an exasperated sigh through his nose. "I'm starting to understand why cats and dogs don't get along."

Wendy giggled softly between them.

Blitzwolfer gave a low huff but continued down the trail, his ears swiveling constantly as they tracked distant sounds while his nose sifted through the mountain air.

The farther they traveled, the rougher the path became.

Grass gave way to patches of moss and pale lichen. The trail narrowed along the cliff face, broken in places by loose gravel and crooked stone ledges. What might have been difficult on foot barely slowed Blitzwolfer. He stepped over gaps, ducked beneath low outcroppings, and carried Wendy and Carla across sections where the old road had almost entirely crumbled away.

Wendy leaned slightly to look past his shoulder. "You're really quiet for someone so big."

"Enhanced predator instincts," the Loboan replied. "Hard to sneak up on bad guys if every step sounds like a falling piano."

Carla gave him a flat look from behind Wendy. "I have no idea what a piano has to do with anything."

"Large instrument. Very loud when dropped."

"Why would anyone drop one?"

"Usually poor planning."

Wendy laughed again, though her attention gradually shifted to the mountain around them.

The stone beneath Blitzwolfer's paws had begun to change. In several places, the rough mountain rock became unnaturally smooth, as if it had once been carefully carved before centuries of wind and weather reclaimed it. Broken stairways emerged beneath layers of dust and weeds, while fragments of low walls jutted from the mountainside at odd angles.

Blitzwolfer slowed, his ears pointing forward. "We're getting close."

Wendy felt it too. The strange presence in the wind had grown stronger, brushing against her senses like a whisper just beyond hearing.

The trail then opened.

Built directly into the cliff stood an immense structure that looked as though a fortress and a temple had been fused into one. Massive stone pillars framed a dark entrance, their surfaces covered with worn carvings and weathered symbols. Heavy blocks formed an arch above the doorway, large enough for even a Giant to pass beneath had part of it not collapsed.

Lining the approach were towering stone figures.

Golems.

Each stood twice the height of a man, with broad shoulders, thick limbs, and expressionless faces carved from pale granite. Moss draped across their backs like old cloaks. Deep cracks spread through their bodies, and several had sunk halfway into the earth.

Blitzwolfer lowered himself carefully onto all fours. "This is the place."

Carla immediately summoned her wings and lifted from his back. She hovered beside Wendy while the girl slowly swung one leg over Blitzwolfer's side. The bluenette slid down his fur, and Blitzwolfer shifted one arm beneath her before her feet reached the ground, making sure she landed without stumbling.

Wendy looked up at him. "Thank you."

"No problem." He straightened and turned toward the ruin, his earlier humor fading as his gaze moved over the silent golems.

Carla landed lightly on Wendy's shoulder. Her ears flattened against her head. "I dislike this place."

Blitzwolfer studied the nearest stone guardian without approaching too closely. The golem remained motionless, its carved face staring over them toward nothing.

"These statues have been here for a long time," Wendy murmured.

She looked up at the entrance. The strange feeling carried by the wind had grown stronger. It was not threatening exactly. Just present.

"It feels old," she murmured.

Carla folded her arms. "Old things are often dangerous because people forget why they were left alone."

"You're not wrong…" Blitzwolfer muttered as he started toward the entrance, though his pace had become noticeably slower and more deliberate.

Halfway there, the Omnitrix badge emitted a short, uneven chirp before flashing green three times.

Wendy looked up. "Ben?"

"Hold on." Blitzwolfer stopped and tapped the Omnitrix dial with one black claw. "Omnitrix, what's got you acting weird this time?"

The device responded in its synthesized feminine voice. "Scanning anomaly. Unable to classify detected energy signature. Reanalyzing... Reanalyzing... Classification conflict."

Blitzwolfer blinked. "...Okay. That's a new one."

Wendy looked up at him. "What's wrong?"

"The Omnitrix's picking something up," he said slowly, "but it has absolutely no clue what it's looking at."

Carla's ears twitched. "What exactly does that mean?"

Blitzwolfer tapped the dial thoughtfully with one claw. "Normally it can tell the difference between DNA, magic, lifeforms, energy signatures... stuff like that." He frowned. "But this reading keeps changing."

"Changing how?" Wendy asked.

"It can't decide what category it belongs in. One second it thinks it's one thing, the next it doesn't." He shook his head. "I've never seen it get this confused."

Carla stared into the darkness beyond the ruined doorway. "So we've narrowed it down to... something your world's greatest piece of technology cannot identify."

"When you put it like that," Blitzwolfer muttered, "it sounds a lot less comforting."

Wendy swallowed before taking a cautious step toward the entrance. "The wind is coming from inside."

Without hesitation, Blitzwolfer moved ahead of her, his broad frame nearly filling the doorway. "Then that's where we're going." Nearly all the humor had disappeared from his voice. "But nobody wanders off."

His glowing green eyes shifted toward Wendy. "You stay between me and Carla."

"I can walk on my own," Wendy said softly.

"I know."

She blinked.

Blitzwolfer glanced back over one shoulder, his expression gentler than his tone. "I just want you somewhere I can reach if something decides today is a great day to jump out at us."

A small smile found its way onto Wendy's face. "Okay."

The moment they crossed the threshold, the temperature dropped.

The stale air of the ruin settled around them like a damp cloak. Their footsteps echoed across stone while narrow shafts of sunlight filtered through cracks high overhead. Dust blanketed the floor in an undisturbed layer, broken only by the tracks the three of them left behind.

Blitzwolfer came to an abrupt stop, his ears slowly rotating.

Water dripped somewhere far below. Wind whispered through hidden cracks. Ancient stone groaned deep within the mountain.

Beyond the faint scent of moss and tiny creatures hidden within the walls, there was no trace of life. No breathing, no heartbeat, and no footsteps.

That bothered him far more than noise would have. "This place is too quiet."

Carla drifted closer to Wendy until she hovered just beside her shoulder. "It feels..." Her eyes swept slowly across the chamber. "...as though something is waiting."

Drawn onward by the strange current flowing through the chamber, Wendy slowly approached one of the walls. Set into the ancient stone stood an enormous slab of polished black rock. Unlike the weathered masonry surrounding it, its surface remained flawlessly smooth, gleaming like still water.

She stopped in her tracks. "...Ben?"

Blitzwolfer turned toward her, every muscle tensing. "What is it?"

Wendy slowly raised a trembling finger toward the slab. "The reflection..."

Blitzwolfer and Carla looked where she was pointing.

Standing silently behind the three of them...

...was someone else.

A tall figure clothed entirely in white.

Long silver-white hair, braided over one shoulder, fell almost to his waist. Immense feathered wings rested folded behind him, their pristine white feathers nearly brushing the floor. Flowing robes hung from his lean frame, untouched by the dust blanketing the forgotten chamber.

His features were calm and gentle.

He stood with his hands loosely folded before him, studying the three travelers with quiet curiosity.

(A/N: Credit to BálintM)

Blitzwolfer spun around. The chamber behind them was empty. His ears flattened as he slowly turned back toward the stone.

The winged figure had never moved.

Carla tensed up, her fur puffing out. "I knew I disliked this place."

The angelic figure offered a faint, almost apologetic smile. "You possess excellent instincts." His voice didn't echo through the ruin. Instead, it seemed to drift from the chamber itself, as soft as wind slipping through forgotten halls.

Wendy found herself staring. She couldn't explain why, but there was something... peaceful about him. "You're..."

"A remnant," the angel replied gently. "A memory. A guardian who remained after all the others departed." His pale blue eyes settled upon Wendy. "You hear the wind."

She nodded before she even realized she was doing it. "...Yes."

A trace of warmth touched his expression. "I wondered how long it would take before the wind guided someone here."

Silence lingered between them.

Blitzwolfer's glowing green eyes never left the reflection. "…All right. Who are you?"

The winged figure inclined his head. "My name is Azazel." He spoke it without pride or hesitation.

His pale blue eyes drifted toward the alien-werewolf. "…An unusual specimen."

Blitzwolfer's ears flicked. "Could say the same thing about you."

His gaze lingered for another moment. "What manner of being are you?"

"A Loboan."

The angel's expression didn't change, though something thoughtful passed behind his eyes. "…I see."

Blitzwolfer tapped the Omnitrix and green light filled the chamber as he transformed back to human.

"Though I'm really a human." He shrugged. "Well, most of the time."

For the first time since they'd entered the ruin, Azazel looked genuinely intrigued. "You change your physical form…" His eyes settled on the Omnitrix. "…without the aid of magic."

Ben shrugged. "Pretty much."

"Remarkable." There was no greed in the angel's voice, only quiet fascination. "I have witnessed many forms of transformation over the millennia. "He smiled faintly. "None quite like yours."

Wendy stepped forward before Ben could respond.

"My name is Wendy." She placed a hand lightly against her chest.

"This is Ben… and Carla."

Carla dipped her head politely, though her expression remained guarded.

"It's nice to meet you." Wendy said.

Azazel returned the gesture with equal courtesy. "The pleasure is mine."

Wendy hesitated only a moment. "…What are you doing here?"

The question hung quietly in the chamber.

Azazel's smile faded, lowering his eyes. "I remain where I was left."

He looked toward the darkness stretching beyond the ruined hall. "There was once a time when my kind walked freely beside humanity." His voice remained calm. "But fear has always been easier than understanding."

Straight-faced, Ben's mouth formed a thin line.

Azazel rested one hand lightly against his chest. "Some believed our knowledge was too dangerous. Their answer…" His fingers curled almost imperceptibly. "…was imprisonment."

He looked back at them." My body remains sealed beyond this barrier. "His reflection touched the black stone. "Only my thoughts can still reach this place."

Wendy's eyes softened immediately. "…That's awful."

"It is… lonely." The word carried no bitterness. Only quiet acceptance.

Wendy turned quickly toward Ben. "We have to help him."

Ben didn't answer immediately. Instead, he folded his arms.

Carla beat him to it. "Wendy." Her voice remained calm. "We cannot simply accept everything we've been told."

Wendy blinked. "But—"

"She's right," Ben interrupted gently.

He looked back toward the reflection. "No offense dude…"

Azazel smiled faintly. "None taken."

Ben continued. "…but people usually don't end up locked inside ancient magical prisons because they forgot to return a library book."

Carla's mouth twitched at the remark, trying to suppress a smile.

Azazel nodded without protest. "I would expect nothing less than caution."

That answer caught Ben slightly off guard.

The angel continued. "If our positions were reversed…I would question me as well."

Carla studied Azazel carefully. "…That is a reasonable answer."

"I hope, in time, my actions prove more convincing than my words."

Wendy looked between them hopefully. "I think we should give him a chance."

Ben sighed through his nose. "How?" He gestured around the chamber. "We came out here so I could help train your magic." He pointed toward the reflection. "Not free some suspicious mysterious angel from an ancient ruin."

Azazel tilted his head. "…Training?"

Wendy nodded.

"I want to use my magic better."

"I see." His expression brightened ever so slightly. "Then perhaps I may still be of assistance."

Ben raised an eyebrow. "And how's that?"

"My kind devoted much of our existence to understanding Ethernano." Azazel's eyes settled upon Wendy. "The flow of magic. The body. The mind. The relationship between all three. I believe I could help refine her control."

Carla's ears angled back. "You expect us to break your seal because you offer advice?"

Ben pointed a thumb toward himself. "Yeah, that's basically a prisoner saying, 'Trust me, I'll totally pay you back later.'"

To their surprise, Azazel shook his head. "There would be no need."

Ben frowned. "…No need?"

"I can project my consciousness."

The angel lightly placed two fingers against the polished stone. "What you see before you is merely a reflection. I may create a temporary Thought Projection outside these walls. It possesses no physical body. No ability to free me. It is only… an image carrying my thoughts. For approximately twelve hours before my magic must recover."

Wendy blinked. "So you could leave the ruin…without actually leaving it."

"Precisely."

Ben rubbed his chin. "…Huh."

Azazel folded his hands once more. "I propose a simple arrangement. For those twelve hours, allow me to accompany you. I will ask nothing further. If, by day's end, you still believe me unworthy of trust…" His smile remained gentle. "…then I shall never again request your aid."

"But…" His eyes rested upon Wendy. "If my actions convince you otherwise…then I ask only that you consider helping me."

Silence settled over the chamber.

Wendy looked toward Ben. "…That sounds reasonable."

Ben looked toward Carla. Carla looked back. Neither of them liked it.

"…He's making it really hard to say no," Ben admitted quietly. "That concerns me."

"It concerns me as well," she replied.

Ben sighed. "…Fine."

He looked directly at Azazel. "But we're adding one more condition."

"I'm listening."

"I'm watching you." Ben's voice became noticeably firmer. "The second I think you're trying to manipulate Wendy, trick us, or do anything that even smells dangerous…we're done."

Azazel bowed his head. "A fair condition."

He lifted one hand and the black stone shimmered.

Ripples spread across its surface like moonlight over still water.

Then, slowly, a second figure stepped forward—

Not the tall angel imprisoned within the reflection…

…but a much smaller projection.

It resembled a child of perhaps ten years old, dressed in the same flowing white robes, with silver-white hair braided over one shoulder and snowy wings folded neatly behind him.

Unlike the reflection, this one stood upon the chamber floor. Softly luminous and almost transparent.

(A/N: Credit to BálintM)

The projection smiled warmly at Wendy. "I thank you for this opportunity."

Ben blinked. "…Okay." He pointed at the child-sized angel. "I was expecting… older."

Azazel chuckled. "A projection of this size consumes considerably less magic."

Ben nodded slowly. "…You know what? That's actually a really practical reason."

Carla sighed. "Agreed."

Together, the four of them made their way back toward the entrance.

Ben lingered a few steps behind the group. As they crossed beneath the broken archway, something caught his eye. The inside of the stone lintel was covered in ancient inscriptions.

Ben slowed and his eyes narrowed. "…Weird."

He couldn't read a single word, but something about the carvings…felt important.

…

The hike back to the plateau was quieter than the journey down.

Wendy walked beside Ben, occasionally glancing toward the childlike projection walking a few feet behind them. His white robes stirred in a breeze that didn't seem to affect anyone else's clothing, and his folded wings shimmered faintly whenever sunlight caught the feathers.

Ben noticed every glance. Every smile, too.

He kept reminding himself that Wendy wasn't being reckless. She was curious and compassionate. Those weren't the same thing.

Still... He didn't trust the little angel for a second.

When the plateau finally came into view, Ben stopped beside the same flat stone they'd used the day before.

"All right," he announced, clapping his hands together. "Back to work."

Wendy immediately brightened.

Ben pointed toward the crystal rings still embedded in the stone. "Same exercise as yesterday."

He crouched, picked up a smooth, hand-sized rock, and set it in front of her.

"Only this time we're moving something with a little more weight." He tapped the stone with one finger. "Remember, I don't care how fast it gets there."

He looked her in the eye. "I care how well you control it."

Wendy nodded earnestly. "Right."

She took a slow breath, relaxed her shoulders, and extended one hand. The breeze gathered beneath the stone. It trembled...rose...and suddenly lurched forward in a jerky burst.

Instead of gliding toward the crystal ring, it bounced across the plateau three times before rolling to a stop several meters away.

Ben folded his arms. "...Better."

Wendy let out a disappointed sigh. "It still wasn't right."

"No," he agreed. "But it also didn't become a tiny cannonball, so we're making progress."

Carla gave a small nod. "A marked improvement."

Azazel remained silent, simply watching Wendy reset the stone.

Only after several more attempts did he finally speak. "...May I offer an observation?"

Ben looked toward him. He hesitated for only a heartbeat before giving a short nod.

Azazel turned toward Wendy. "You continue thinking of the air as something behind the stone."

She blinked. "I... do?"

"You push." His small hand traced a slow arc around the rock. "But the wind does not exist only behind the stone."

Wendy frowned thoughtfully.

Azazel continued in the same calm voice. "Guide the air around the stone. Allow it to carry rather than strike."

Ben said nothing. He simply watched Wendy's reaction.

She reset the stone and closed her eyes for a moment. Instead of imagining the wind pushing...she imagined it surrounding the stone and supporting it. The current wrapped gently around the rock. It lifted and wobbled once... then drifted forward in a surprisingly smooth line before settling neatly inside the crystal ring.

Wendy's eyes widened. "...That felt easier."

Azazel smiled faintly. "Because you ceased arguing with the wind."

Carla's ears twitched as she watched the result. "...You also used less magic."

Ben rubbed the back of his neck. "...Huh." He walked over, picked up the stone, and weighed it in his hand before setting it back in front of Wendy. "Again."

She nodded.

The second attempt wasn't perfect. Neither was the third. But both were noticeably smoother than the first.

After watching a few more repetitions, Ben finally gave a small nod. "...Okay." His eyes shifted toward Azazel. "I'll give you that one, dude."

The little angel inclined his head politely. "I am pleased it proved useful."

Carla remained unconvinced. "Useful advice can still come from dangerous people."

Azazel met her gaze without offense. "I never claimed otherwise."

Ben and Carla exchanged another look. Neither of them liked that answer. Mostly because it was exactly the kind of answer they would have given.

Meanwhile, Wendy was too busy staring at her own hands. "It really does feel different..."

Azazel looked toward the breeze moving across the plateau. "Many mages spend their lives trying to dominate magic." His voice remained calm and measured. "They command, force, and overwhelm."

His pale blue eyes settled on Wendy once more. "But magic rarely reaches its greatest potential through domination." A faint smile touched his lips. "It responds best when it is understood."

Ben studied him for another long moment before scratching the side of his head. "...I really hate how much sense that makes."

Carla sighed. "So do I."

…

By midday, Ben clapped his hands together once, the sharp sound echoing across the plateau.

"Okay." A grin spread across his face. "Now for the fun part."

"The fun part?" Wendy tilted her head curiously.

With a mental command, Ben activated the Omnitrix. Emerald light erupted around him, washing the plateau in green before collapsing inward. When it faded, Ben was gone.

Standing in his place was a much smaller alien, barely reaching Wendy's shoulder.

His smooth white skin contrasted sharply against the black markings that covered the top of his rounded head, shoulders, and slender torso. Three fin-like crests swept back from his head, while bright lime-green eyes gleamed with unmistakable mischief. His oversized four-fingered hands hung almost comically at his sides, and several polished green nodules protruded from his forearms and hips like smooth gemstones. A vivid green stripe, shaped like the Omnitrix hourglass, stretched across his chest and shoulders, framing the Omnitrix emblem embedded proudly at the center.

"Ditto!" He announced in a bright, cheerful voice.

The little alien planted his stubby feet wide apart, puffed out his chest with theatrical confidence, and flashed a broad, toothy grin.

Wendy's eyes immediately lit up. "Oh wow! You're adorable!"

Ditto blinked. "Huh." He scratched one of the fins on his head. "Nobody's ever opened with that before."

The blunette stepped a little closer, unable to hide her smile as she looked him over. "You're so little! And your fins are cute... and your hands..." Her gaze drifted back to his face, a laugh escaping before she could stop it. "You're one of the cutest transformations you've shown me."

Carla studied Ditto for a moment, tilting her head. "She is... not wrong."

Ditto folded his arms with exaggerated confidence. "Well, that's it. Training's over."

Wendy blinked. "It is?"

"I've already achieved today's greatest victory."

Carla sighed. "You are enjoying this far too much."

"I really am." Still grinning, Ditto walked over to the backpack Ben had left beside the rock and reached into one of its side pouches. When his hand emerged, it held a small black pod that looked almost like an oversized seed.

"What are those?" Wendy asked.

"Florauna spore pods."

She tilted her head. "Florauna?"

"Wildvine's species." He held one up between two fingers. "I used him to grow a bunch of these last night."

Carla's ears twitched. "You said spore pods? That sounds concerning."

"Relax." Ditto casually tossed one into the air before catching it again. "They're dummy pods. No poison. No explosions."

He gave it an experimental squeeze.

"They're basically really weird beanbags."

Before Wendy could ask what they were for—

Pop!

Another Ditto appeared beside him.

Then—

Pop!

A third.

Pop! Pop! Pop!

Three more appeared in rapid succession until six identical Dittos stood in a loose circle around Wendy, every one of them wearing the exact same mischievous grin.

She slowly turned in place, looking from clone to clone, her eyes growing wider with each one.

"...Whoa." Her face lit up with amazement. "You can make copies of yourself?"

"Yep!" all six Dittos answered proudly.

Carla buried a paw against her forehead with a long, resigned sigh. "One of him was already enough."

Every Ditto gasped in exaggerated offense.

"Ouch."

"That hurt."

"Emotionally."

"I might cry."

"No, I might cry."

"We're all crying."

The Dittos then returned their attention to Wendy, each one taking a turn in explaining.

"Rule's simple!"

"No touching the pods!"

"You redirect them!"

"Don't blast them!"

"Guide them!"

"Ready?"

Wendy looked from one clone to another, already struggling to keep up. "...Wait—"

A pod flew toward her. Followed by another. Then three more from different directions.

Panic won instantly.

"Sky Dragon's Wing Attack!" She swept both arms outward and a powerful gust exploded across the plateau, swallowing the entire volley and launching every pod into the distant mountains.

All six Dittos flung their arms up dramatically as the blast of wind swept over the plateau, bowling several of them off their feet and sending them rolling through the grass.

As the last of the wind faded, the displaced Dittos scrambled upright, dusting themselves off with exaggerated offense while the others lowered their hands and surveyed the training ground. Every last spore pod was gone.

One Ditto scratched his head. "...Pretty sure we said 'don't blast them.'"

Another nodded gravely. "In fairness, you did redirect them."

He pointed toward the horizon. "Just... all the way over there."

A third shaded his eyes. "I think those pods just crossed the kingdom's border."

A fourth sighed dramatically. "We're never getting those back."

A fifth looked at the others. "Do you think they'll start a new civilization?"

The sixth nodded thoughtfully. "They'll tell stories about us."

Wendy's face turned crimson. "I-I'm sorry!"

Every Ditto pointed at her simultaneously. "No apologizing."

One clone casually tossed her another pod. "Again."

The second attempt went a little better.

She managed to redirect two pods while the other four disappeared over the mountains.

One Ditto watched them sail away. "...Closer."

Another nodded. "Much less catastrophic."

A third gave her an enthusiastic thumbs-up. "I only lost sight of them. That's improvement."

Despite herself, Wendy smiled.

From there, the exercise settled into a rhythm.

Every successful deflection was followed almost immediately by another volley from a different direction. Whenever Wendy thought she'd figured out the pattern, another Ditto appeared somewhere unexpected and tossed another pod into the mix.

The Sky Dragon Slayer laughed, groaned, and—more than once—she squeaked in surprise as a pod sailed past her ear. Slowly, almost without realizing it, she stopped trying to overpower every attack.

She started guiding, bending, and redirecting them instead.

Meanwhile, Azazel remained beneath the twisted juniper tree, watching in silence.

Only after nearly half an hour did he finally speak. "Your instinct remains unchanged."

Wendy guided another pod gently to the ground before looking toward him. "...What do you mean, Azazel?"

"You still believe every attack must be stopped."

She frowned. "...Shouldn't it?"

Azazel slowly raised one small hand. "A stream does not halt every leaf that falls upon it." His fingers drifted lazily through the air. "It simply carries each leaf elsewhere."

Wendy looked down at the pod resting harmlessly beside her boot. "...Carry..."

The next volley came. This time, instead of creating a wall of wind, she formed several narrow currents. One pod curved harmlessly around her shoulder while another drifted over her head. A third spiraled gently onto the grass.

The remaining pods simply lost their momentum and settled several feet away.

Five of the six Dittos immediately burst into applause.

"There we go!"

"That's it!"

"Now you're thinking!"

"Way less exploding!"

"I kinda miss the exploding."

The sixth Ditto wasn't watching Wendy anymore. His eyes stayed fixed on Azazel, frowning.

The angel had spoken only twice in nearly two hours. Both times, his advice had been exactly right. That bothered Ben far more than if Azazel had acted openly suspicious.

Anyone could pretend to be sinister. Being genuinely helpful... That was far more dangerous.

…

The sun sank behind the western ridges as the twilight settled over the mountain plateau. The sky above the peaks burned in bands of orange and violet, while the air cooled enough that Wendy pulled her arms a little closer to herself whenever the wind swept through the grass.

By then, Ben had declared training finished for the day, despite Wendy insisting she still had energy for one more round. He had ignored her protests, pointed toward the word Rest still written on the flat training stone.

A small campfire now crackled in a shallow ring of stones near the twisted juniper tree. Ben crouched beside it with one knee against the ground, stirring a metal pot suspended over the flames while steam curled into the evening air. The stew inside carried the scent of vegetables, herbs, and whatever dried meat Yrsa had packed among their supplies.

Wendy sat on a folded blanket nearby after gathering the last of the kindling. Carla had already inspected the tent, their food, and the surrounding rocks, twice, apparently convinced that danger could be defeated through thorough disapproval.

Azazel remained away from the fire, sitting atop a weathered stone several yards away, hands resting loosely in his lap. The sunset showed through the edges of his body, and his wings appeared less distinct than they had earlier. He watched the three travelers quietly, never asking to come closer.

Wendy looked toward Azazel and folded her hands in her lap. "Thank you for helping me today, Azazel."

The angel's pale blue eyes shifted toward her. "You need not thank me."

"I do," she insisted softly. "I've never thought about my magic the way you explained it. I always tried to make the wind obey me or used more magic when it didn't move the way I wanted." Her gaze dropped to her palms as she remembered the stones gliding more smoothly and the spore pods bending harmlessly around her. "Guiding it felt different."

Azazel offered her a gentle smile. "I merely described a path you had not noticed. You were the one who walked it."

Wendy's cheeks warmed slightly. "Still, I don't think I would have understood it that quickly without you."

Across the fire, Ben stopped stirring long enough to glance toward the angel. He studied Azazel for another moment before setting the spoon against the rim of the pot.

"Yeah," Ben admitted, poking one of the burning logs with a stick. "I'll give credit where it's due."

Wendy turned toward him, visibly surprised.

Ben nodded in Azazel's direction. "The stuff about guiding the wind instead of forcing it helped. Same with carrying attacks away instead of trying to stop everything head-on." He gave the little angel a reluctant tilt of his head. "Good advice."

A small smile crossed Wendy's face.

Ben immediately lifted the stick and pointed it toward Azazel. "Doesn't mean I trust you yet."

Azazel inclined his head with perfect composure. "I would have been disappointed if you did."

Ben's eyes narrowed.

Carla's ears angled back from where she sat beside Wendy. "That is a peculiar answer."

"Trust given without thought has little value," Azazel replied calmly. "If Ben trusted me after only a few hours, it would speak poorly of his judgment."

Ben slowly lowered the stick. "You know, every time you say something reasonable, it somehow makes this worse."

Azazel's smile remained faint and patient. "I have noticed."

"That also makes it worse."

Wendy tried to hide a small laugh behind one hand. Carla did not laugh, but the twitch of her whiskers betrayed her.

Ben turned back to the fire and stirred the stew once more. He remained quiet for several seconds before setting the spoon aside and leaning back on one arm. "All right. You've been helping us all day." Ben gestured toward him with the stick. "Your turn."

Wendy looked between them as Ben's expression became more serious.

"What's your story?" he asked. "Not the short version. The real one."

The plateau grew still again.

Azazel lowered his gaze toward his translucent hands. For several moments, the only sound between them was the quiet simmering of the stew.

"As I said, what stands before you is only a Thought Projection," he began. His voice had lost none of its calm, but a faint weariness rested beneath it now. "My true body remains beyond the great gate within the mountain."

Wendy listened closely.

"There was an age when my kind—the Angels—walked openly within this world," Azazel continued. "We shared knowledge with humanity, observed its growth, and stood beside those who welcomed us. Yet power often inspires fear before it inspires understanding."

Carla's eyes narrowed, but she did not interrupt.

"Some humans believed our knowledge made us dangerous," the Angel said. "Others believed our nature alone was reason enough to fear us. In time, fear became conflict, and conflict became imprisonment."

Ben remained silent, watching every shift of Azazel's face.

"My kind were separated from this world and sealed within another dimension," Azazel explained. "The gate inside those ruins is one of the passages that once connected the two realms. My own body was bound beyond it when the prison was closed."

Wendy's expression softened more with each word.

"The seal was created carefully. Nothing confined within the prison can release it from the other side. Those who designed it wished to ensure that no Angel could ever free himself."

Wendy lowered her gaze. "That's horrible." Azazel looked toward her. "No one deserves to be trapped forever," she said, her voice thickening with sympathy. "Especially just because people were afraid of them."

"Your compassion honors you," Azazel replied softly.

Ben said nothing.

The story sounded possible. After everything he had witnessed in his own world, people imprisoning an entire species because they were afraid of its power hardly stretched belief. Nothing Azazel had said was obviously false.

Carla seemed to feel the same. Her tail curled close to her side, and although her expression had softened slightly at the story, she still watched Azazel with guarded attention.

After another brief silence, the Angel looked toward the darkening mountain beyond them. "I will admit there is one thing I cannot accomplish alone."

Wendy leaned forward. "What is it?"

Azazel returned his attention to them. "The seal cannot be released from within the prison. If I am ever to leave, someone outside the gate must weaken it."

Ben's gaze sharpened. "There it is."

Azazel did not react to the interruption. "I do not ask that you free me tonight. Nor do I ask that you act before you believe it is right."

His pale eyes settled briefly on Wendy before moving back to Ben.

"A small amount of magic, freely given, could test whether the outer seal has weakened over the centuries," he said. "Nothing more would be required."

Wendy glanced toward the ruin hidden beyond the cliffs, then toward Ben. "Could we?"

Ben did not answer immediately. The fire cracked between them as he watched the flames curl around the wood, jaw tightening.

"No."

Wendy's hopeful expression faltered.

Ben kept his voice calm. "Not yet."

Azazel bowed his head. "I understand." There was no protest or any attempt to bargain. Instead, the little angel turned toward Wendy, his expression gentle and apologetic. "Your friend has witnessed much darkness. I cannot resent him for wishing to protect you."

Ben's eyes narrowed slightly.

Azazel continued in the same quiet tone. "Fear protects." The words hung between them for a moment. "But when held too tightly, it can become another prison."

The teen hero looked back into the fire.

He hated how carefully Azazel chose his words. The Angel had not accused him of cruelty or called his caution foolish. He had framed Ben as someone protecting Wendy because he cared about her.

Nothing about that was false. That made it harder to dismiss.

Wendy stared down at her hands, clearly troubled. Carla looked toward Ben, waiting to see how he would respond, but he remained silent.

Before anyone could say more, Azazel's outline flickered.

Wendy noticed first.

The light around his shoulders dimmed, and the feathers along the outer edges of his wings lost their definition. His lower legs became transparent enough that the stone beneath him showed clearly through the white robes.

"Azazel?" Wendy asked, alarm entering her voice.

Carla rose to her feet. "Your projection is fading."

Azazel looked down at himself. One hand shimmered, briefly dissolving into pale motes before taking shape again. A small, almost amused smile touched his lips. "It would seem I misjudged how much magic remained available to me."

Wendy shifted closer. "Can't you stop it?"

"The projection has reached its limit." Azazel's voice remained steady even as the light around him weakened. "I must allow my magic to recover."

His wings flickered again, becoming little more than translucent outlines.

Wendy's face tightened. "Then you'll be alone in the ruins again."

"For a time," he replied. The angel looked toward all three of them. "I am grateful that I was permitted to meet you." His attention lingered on Wendy, and his smile became a little warmer. "You have reminded me that kindness still exists in this world."

Wendy swallowed hard.

Azazel inclined his head. "Farewell."

His projection dissolved. The edges of his wings scattered first, breaking into motes of white light that drifted away. His robes followed, then his hands and face, until only a faint glow remained above the weathered stone. A moment later, that vanished too. Only the campfire remained.

Wendy stared at the empty place where Azazel had been. The wind rustled through the juniper tree while a night bird somewhere in the distance called out.

"We could have helped him."

Ben looked into the fire rather than at Wendy. "Maybe."

The bluenette turned toward him, hurt and confusion pulling at her face. "Then why didn't we?"

"Because I think he was imprisoned for a reason."

Wendy shook her head at once. "He told us the reason. People were afraid of Angels. They misunderstood them."

"He told us part of the reason."

"How do you know it was only part?"

"I don't."

The admission stopped her for half a second.

Ben set the stick down beside him and leaned forward, resting his forearms against his knees. "And that's the problem."

Wendy stared at him. "But he helped me all day. He didn't hurt anyone. He didn't even get angry when you said no."

"I know."

"He could have lied to us about the training," she continued, her voice growing more emotional without becoming loud. "But everything he told me worked."

"I know."

"Then why are you treating him like he did something wrong?"

Ben's expression tightened. "Because being helpful doesn't automatically make someone safe."

Wendy looked away for a moment, struggling with that answer. When she faced him again, her eyes were shining with frustrated tears. "What about the Map Maker?"

Ben went still.

Wendy's voice softened. "You said those Forever Knights were afraid of him because he wasn't like them. They called him a monster and locked him away for a thousand years."

Carla's gaze moved toward Ben.

"You said everyone thought he was dangerous," Wendy continued. "But they were wrong."

Ben stared at her.

He had told Wendy that story because he had wanted her to understand that fear could turn cruelty into something people called heroism. Now she was using his own lesson against him… and she was not wrong to do it.

Ben looked down at the fire. For once, no quick answer came.

"Yeah," he admitted after a long silence. "It sounds similar."

Wendy waited.

The brunet rubbed one hand across the back of his neck, frustration tightening his shoulders. "But my gut's telling me this isn't the same."

"That's all?"

"It's not nothing."

"But it isn't proof."

"No. It isn't."

Wendy searched his face, wanting to find something more there. A reason she could understand. Evidence that made his refusal feel fair.

Ben had none to give her. Only instinct.

Her expression fell. "I thought heroes were supposed to help people."

The words landed harder than any accusation she could have shouted.

Ben's mouth opened, but Wendy had already turned away. She stood from the blanket and brushed past the edge of the firelight.

"I'm not hungry," she said, keeping her voice quiet. "I think I'll go to bed."

"Wendy," Carla called, immediately taking a step after her.

The girl did not stop. She entered the tent and pulled the flap closed behind her, leaving it to settle into place.

Carla summoned her wings and started forward, but Ben reached out and gently caught her by the arm before she could take off.

"Let her cool off."

…

Roughly an hour later, night settled over the plateau. The campfire had burned lower, its flames reduced to a steady orange glow around blackened wood, while stars crowded the clear mountain air above them. Ben remained seated beside the fire with his back against one of the packs. The untouched portion of Wendy's stew sat covered near the warmest stones, close enough to keep from going cold in case she changed her mind and came back outside.

So far, the tent flap had not moved.

Carla sat close by, staring at the small shelter for what had to be the fifth time in as many minutes. Her ears shifted toward every faint rustle inside, though nothing followed beyond the occasional whisper of canvas stirred by the wind.

"Do you think she has fallen asleep?" She finally asked.

Ben glanced toward the tent. "Doubt it."

Her brow furrowed. "Why?"

"Because when you're that mad, sleeping usually comes after lying there for an hour replaying the argument and thinking of better things you should've said." He poked at one of the embers with a narrow stick. "She's probably staring at the ceiling and being frustrated at me."

Carla's tail flicked sharply. "You sound remarkably familiar with the experience."

"Yeah, well, I've been on both sides of that tent flap."

The white feline looked back toward the tent. "Maybe I should go to her."

"Not yet."

Her head turned sharply. "And why not?"

Ben set the stick across the edge of the fire ring and faced her more fully. "Trust me. Sometimes people need a little time before they're ready to talk."

Carla's eyes narrowed. "Experience?"

A tired smile pulled at one corner of his mouth. "Let's just say I wasn't exactly easy to raise."

"I can certainly believe that," she replied without hesitation.

Ben placed a hand over his chest. "Wow. No pause. No attempt to protect my feelings."

"You have spent several days giving me ample evidence."

"Fair."

The brief exchange faded, leaving them with the low crackle of the fire once again. Carla's gaze returned to the tent, but after another few moments, her attention shifted back toward Ben.

He looked more subdued than usual. The joking tone remained whenever she gave him an opening, but Carla had begun to recognize the difference between Ben being relaxed and Ben using humor to keep himself from thinking too hard. He had done it while Wendy slept in Sun Village, and he was doing it again now.

Carla unfolded her arms. "Ben."

He glanced at her. "That sounded serious."

"It is. There is something else I have been meaning to ask you."

Ben leaned his head back against the pack. "Somehow that sounds serious."

"The form you used against the Magtartus brothers."

His expression changed immediately. His smile tightened at the edges, and his fingers stopped tapping against his knee.

Carla noticed immediately.

Ben looked into the fire. "Heatblast?"

"No." Carla's voice remained controlled. "The larger, armored form. The one with the molten tendrils rising from its back."

The brunet picked up the stick again, though there was nothing near him that needed adjusting. "Ultimate Heatblast."

"So it has a name."

"Most of them do."

Carla watched him closely. "And what, precisely, makes it 'Ultimate'?"

Ben poked one of the logs, sending a small shower of sparks into the air. "It's…complicated."

"I have time."

"I noticed."

Her expression did not change.

Ben exhaled through his nose. "Carla—"

"Do not attempt to distract me."

"I wasn't."

"You were about to."

He glanced at her. "Okay, fine. I was considering it."

Carla rose and stepped closer to the fire, the orange light catching along the edges of her white fur. "Wendy may not have understood what she saw when we arrived. But I did."

Ben's grip on the stick tightened.

"Those men were already beaten. They couldn't even stand."

"They were still dangerous."

"I know." Her voice softened only slightly. "I also know what you were about to do."

Ben did not answer.

Carla stopped on the opposite side of the fire and held his gaze. "If Wendy and I had arrived only a few moments later, you would have killed them."

The flames cracked sharply between them.

Ben looked away first. He stared toward the dark mountain ridges, jaw set, before letting the stick fall beside his shoe.

"Yeah."

Carla's ears lowered. "Why?"

"They were going to destroy Sun Village." Ben rested his arms across his raised knees, his expression hardening. "They both knew they had lost. Neither cared. If they couldn't take the Eternal Flame, then they were ready to bury the whole place."

"And you believed that form was necessary."

"I didn't have time to drag the fight out." Ben looked toward her again. "I needed to stop both of them before they finished the spell. Fast and final. So, I went Ultimate."

Carla absorbed that in silence. "…And what does that mean?"

His gaze dropped toward the Omnitrix.

"It means the Omnitrix takes one of my transformations and pushes it further," Ben explained. "A lot further."

"How?"

Ben leaned back slightly, eyes distant as a memory rose to the surface.

…

Galvan Prime. Six months earlier…

Ben swept his gaze around the impossibly advanced laboratory, trying very hard not to look like a kid surrounded by the coolest technology in the universe. The grin spreading across his face ruined the effort almost immediately.

"Thanks for keeping your word about Master Control, Azmuth. Seriously, best birthday present ever."

Azmuth did not look up from the console beneath his hands. "Your species places an absurd amount of sentimental value on completing an arbitrary number of revolutions around its star. Nevertheless, you are welcome."

Ben's grin widened. "Knew you cared."

"I said you were welcome, not that I approved of the celebration." Azmuth tapped several controls in quick succession before adding, "And what I have given you is not 'Master Control' in the simplistic manner you are imagining."

Ben's smile slipped into a suspicious squint. "Okay. What exactly does that mean?"

"It means you now possess access to a limited master interface," the Galvan explained, finally turning his green eyes toward him. "You may select transformations through thought, change forms more quickly, and operate with substantially fewer timeout restrictions. It is not permission to treat the Omnitrix like a vending machine for aliens."

Ben lifted both hands defensively. "Hey, I'm not ten anymore."

"I am aware." Azmuth looked him over with an unimpressed expression. "The volume of your confidence has remained remarkably consistent, however."

Ben pressed a hand to his chest. "Wow. Birthday insults too. You really went all out."

Azmuth turned back to the console. "If you require praise to operate responsibly, then I have already made a serious error."

"Okay, okay. Demo Master Control." Ben leaned closer, still eyeing the Omnitrix with interest. "But why? Last time I had the real thing, I had access to everything."

"Those were dire circumstances," the First Thinker replied. "Full access to the available codex was necessary if we were to have any reasonable chance of ending the Highbreed War. This time, you will have unrestricted command only over the transformations you have already unlocked."

Ben blinked. "Wait, seriously? I still have to unlock the rest?"

Azmuth's eyes narrowed. "Of course you do. Sentient genetic templates are not prizes hidden in a box of breakfast cereal. The Omnitrix observes, catalogs, safeguards, and adapts. It will not place the genetic diversity of the universe into your hands merely because you smiled and asked nicely."

Ben stared at him for a moment before releasing a resigned breath. "Fine. I get it. Earn it, learn it, hero it up."

Azmuth resumed his work, though his hands paused over the controls for the smallest fraction of a second. The hesitation was so unlike his usual precision that Ben immediately noticed.

"There is another addition," he said at last.

Ben straightened. "What kind of addition?"

Azmuth did not meet his eyes immediately. "The Evolutionary Function."

Ben's eyes widened. "Seriously? I can go Ultimate again?" Excitement surged across his face before suspicion caught up with it. "Wait. I thought you hated that feature."

Azmuth's frown deepened. "I do. By the Celestialsapiens, I do."

The teen's excitement cooled into wary curiosity. "Okay, now I have to ask. Why do you hate it that much? Is it just because Albedo invented it?"

"No." The Galvan's voice sharpened as he turned fully toward him. "My objection is not rooted in wounded pride, despite what your limited imagination may suggest."

"I didn't say wounded pride."

"You were about to."

Ben opened his mouth, reconsidered, and shut it again.

Azmuth continued before he could recover. "The Omnitrix was designed as a bridge between species. Its purpose is understanding, diplomacy, and empathy through direct experience. The Evolutionary Function takes that purpose and twists it into something fundamentally opposed to my original intent."

Ben's expression grew more serious. "Because it turns the aliens into weapons."

"Because of how it turns them into weapons. The function subjects a genetic template to simulated evolution under sustained worst-case conditions. War. Starvation. Environmental collapse. Predation. Catastrophe without relief."

His fingers tightened slightly against the edge of the console. "It is suffering compressed into an algorithm. A crucible designed to force adaptation through prolonged torment until only the most combat-efficient result remains."

Ben looked down at the Omnitrix, remembering faces filled with rage and pain. "So that's why those Ultimates hated me."

"Yes," Azmuth replied without softening the truth. "From their perspective, you were the one who repeatedly subjected them to that existence."

The Omnitrix bearer swallowed. "I didn't know they were alive."

The First Thinker's expression eased by the smallest degree. "That was not your fault. Albedo's Ultimatrix was an unstable imitation, hurried to completion by ego, desperation, and an inability to accept that I am more intelligent than he is."

Ben's mouth twitched despite the weight of the conversation. "There he is."

Azmuth ignored him. "The partitions intended to prevent the evolved templates from developing true awareness were flawed. Repeated use, corrupted data, and the instability of the device allowed those simulations to become sentient."

Ben glanced back at him. "How are they doing now?"

"Alive. They remain on Primus under protection. They are not 'free' in whatever excessively romantic sense you have constructed, but they are no longer confined within that abomination." His tone lost some of its severity. "Eunice monitors them. They possess autonomy, stability, and the opportunity to decide what purpose their lives will serve."

A small smile touched Ben's face. "Good. I'm glad."

The smile faded as he looked at the Omnitrix again. "But if you hate the Evolutionary Function this much, why give it back to me?"

Azmuth let out a long, tired breath. "Because, Ben Tennyson, unlike you, I am not naïve enough to believe the universe will stop producing threats merely because you have already defeated several of them."

Ben's jaw tightened.

"Power attracts power," Azmuth continued. "Vilgax will return. Someone like him will rise in his place. Perhaps something worse will appear, and you will inevitably decide that preventing catastrophe is your personal responsibility."

"That's kind of the job."

"No," Azmuth said flatly. "It is the burden you insist on making your job."

He tapped a control, and the Omnitrix gave a faint pulse against Ben's wrist.

"If you remain determined to serve as the universe's reckless volunteer, then I will provide you with every reasonable advantage available to me." The Galvan looked toward the watch with open distaste. "Even those I would prefer did not exist."

Ben nodded slowly, accepting the weight behind the decision. "So, does it work the same way as before? You know, minus the part where the aliens develop minds and try to kill me?"

"It does not. The algorithm has been rebuilt, stabilized, and optimized. The evolved transformations will not precisely match those produced by Albedo's device. They will share similar foundations, but divergent evolutionary pressures may produce different results."

Ben's grin attempted to return. "Okay, that does sound pretty cool."

Azmuth stared at him.

The teen hero's eyes narrowed. "There's a 'but' coming."

"Several."

"Of course there are."

Azmuth stepped away from the console and faced him directly. "The templates themselves will remain non-sentient. I have ensured that. However, the problem does not end with the forms."

Ben's humor faded. "What's the catch?"

"When you transform, the Omnitrix maps the selected species' instincts and neurological patterns onto your consciousness. Normally, those influences remain manageable." Azmuth gestured toward the device. "The Evolutionary Function intensifies them."

Ben frowned. "Intensifies them how?"

"Stress responses. Aggression. Territoriality. Predatory efficiency." Azmuth's gaze sharpened. "You will not become insane, if that is the painfully imprecise human term forming in your mind. You will remain aware of yourself and your actions."

"That doesn't sound so bad."

"I was not finished."

"Right. Sorry."

"You will remain yourself but filtered through a mind evolved almost exclusively for survival and combat. Restraint may feel less necessary. Mercy may appear inefficient. Solutions you would ordinarily reject may seem practical."

Ben's grin disappeared completely. "So I'll be more ruthless."

"Yes."

"More willing to cross the line."

"Precisely."

Ben stared down at the Omnitrix. For the first time since entering the laboratory, the device seemed heavier on his wrist.

"That's a pretty huge catch."

"It is," Azmuth replied, and there was no sarcasm in his voice now. "That is why you will listen carefully, Tennyson. The Evolutionary Function is not for spectacle. It is not for convenience, intimidation, or feeding your considerable ego."

Ben lifted his gaze.

"You will use it only when the alternative is catastrophe. Not because an opponent is difficult. Not because you are angry. Not because you wish to finish a battle faster. You use it when lives will otherwise be lost and every safer option has failed."

Ben was quiet for a moment. "Life-and-death only."

"Correct."

"And if I feel myself losing control?"

"You disengage immediately, assuming circumstances allow it." Azmuth's expression became even more severe. "You do not convince yourself that you can handle a few more minutes. You do not assume your intentions make you immune to the function's influence. And you do not wait until someone else is forced to stop you."

Ben absorbed that, his expression tightening with understanding. "Right."

Azmuth watched him closely, apparently measuring whether the answer carried enough weight.

The Omnitrix bearer stood a little straighter. His usual bravado did not return as a grin or a joke this time. It settled into something quieter and more honest.

"I'll be careful," he promised. "And I mean actually careful, not my usual version."

"A distinction I am relieved you recognize."

Ben glanced at the Omnitrix once more before meeting Azmuth's eyes. "Thank you. For trusting me with it."

Azmuth's mouth twitched, the closest he usually came to open warmth. "Trust is not the absence of concern, Ben. In your case, it generally requires an abundance of it."

The brunet snorted softly. "Still counts."

"It does," the frog-like alien conceded. "And despite the considerable evidence you provide to the contrary, I know you will try to make the correct decision."

Ben smiled faintly. "I won't let you down."

The smartest being in three—arguably five—galaxies turned back toward his console. "See that you do not make me regret saying that within the first week."

Ben's grin returned. "No promises."

Azmuth pointed at him without looking away from his work. "That is exactly the problem."

…

In the present, the fire had burned lower by the time Ben finished explaining.

Carla stared at the Omnitrix on Ben's wrist as though it had become something entirely different while she listened. Until now, she had viewed the watch as a tool that let Ben assume the forms of other species. An extraordinary and sometimes deeply irritating tool, but one she had gradually begun to understand.

The Ultimate function was something else.

"You place an entire species inside an artificial nightmare," she said slowly, "force it to survive countless generations of war and disaster, and then become the result."

"When you say it like that, it sounds pretty bad."

Carla's eyes widened. "There is a way to describe that which does not sound bad?"

Ben grimaced. "Not really."

She looked toward the Omnitrix again. "Your ordinary transformations are already powerful. Yet the device can evolve them into something even more dangerous."

The white feline remained standing for several seconds before slowly lowering herself onto the stone across from him. Her expression had lost some of its earlier sharpness, replaced by unease.

"So it changes more than their strength. You behave differently too."

Ben's eyes lifted toward her. "The Ultimates are built for survival. Usually combat survival. Their instincts come with the form."

"And those instincts made killing easier."

Ben looked back into the fire. "Yeah."

Carla's tail curled tightly against her side. "Then is the additional power worth it?"

He did not answer immediately.

"Is winning worth becoming someone more willing to kill?" she pressed.

Ben's expression tightened. "It's not like I black out and wake up surrounded by craters. I'm still me."

"But altered."

"A little."

"Enough that you nearly killed two men who had already lost."

"They hadn't stopped being a threat," he said, a little more sharply than before. He caught himself, drew in a slow breath, and lowered his voice. "Those two were still trying to wipe out the village. If they'd finished that spell, people would've died."

Carla did not flinch from his tone. "I am not saying you should have allowed that."

"Then what are you saying?"

"I am asking whether you could have stopped them without losing so much of yourself in the process."

Ben's jaw worked for a moment. "Maybe."

The word sounded like it cost him something.

"Maybe I could've found another way. But I didn't know how much time I had. I knew the village was in danger, and I knew Going Ultimate could end it immediately."

He looked straight at Carla. "So I did."

Carla studied him for a long moment. "And if Wendy and I had not appeared?"

Ben's gaze did not waver this time. "I would've stopped them."

"That was not my question."

"I know."

The air between them went still.

Ben looked down at his open hand, firelight playing over his fingers. "I don't want to kill people, Carla. I don't go looking for reasons to do it, and I've let some really bad people walk away because there was another choice."

His fingers slowly closed. "But sometimes there isn't one."

Carla said nothing.

"If somebody's about to hurt innocent people and I can't stop them any other way, I'm not going to stand there and let it happen because I'm scared of what it says about me." Ben's voice remained quiet, but there was an old certainty beneath it. "I'll do what I have to do."

The words were not boastful…and that disturbed Carla more.

She had seen Ben joke during battles and charged toward danger with the confidence of someone who refused to believe he could lose. Yet the boy sitting before her did not resemble the careless hero he presented himself as.

He looked tired.

Carla's eyes narrowed as something finally settled into place. "So that is why you act arrogant and childish. You're scared."

Ben blinked once.

He then leaned back and gave her a crooked smile. "No. I'm actually oblivious."

Carla stared at him. She did not believe him for an instant, but she also understood the answer for what it was: a door he was not ready to open.

She let the subject pass.

Her gaze moved toward the tent again. "Wendy may face a choice like that someday."

Ben's smile disappeared.

"She is a Dragon Slayer," she continued. "She has already fought dark wizards and risked her life for strangers. The enemies ahead will not all surrender simply because she asks them to."

"I know."

"She cannot remain sheltered from that forever."

"I know that too."

Ben looked toward the tent, his expression softening. "But as long as I'm around, I'll keep her from having to make that choice."

Carla turned toward him. "You cannot promise that."

"No," he admitted. "But I can try." He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees again. "And when I'm not around, I can make sure she's strong enough that it doesn't come down to mercy or survival." His eyes remained fixed on the tent. "That's what this training is for."

Carla listened quietly.

"More power gives you options," Ben continued. "Better control gives you even more. If Wendy can protect herself, protect everybody else, and put the bad guy down without crossing that line, then she won't have to stand there wondering what she's willing to do." A faint determined smile touched his mouth. "She can just win."

Carla looked toward the tent. She could not deny how much Wendy had grown under Ben's influence. The child had become braver, more determined, and increasingly willing to stand her ground. Perhaps, with enough strength and wisdom, Ben was right. Perhaps Wendy could become someone who never had to choose between kindness and survival because she possessed enough of both to protect herself without surrendering either.

Her thoughts returned to a certain Angel.

"I do not entirely trust Azazel either," Carla admitted.

Ben's eyes shifted toward her. "Reassuring."

"However," she continued, "perhaps we should not be so quick to refuse his request."

His brow furrowed. "You're taking his side now?"

"I am not taking anyone's side." Carla folded her arms. "I am acknowledging that Wendy's argument was not without merit. What if Azazel is telling the truth?"

Ben's expression turned thoughtful.

"The Map Maker was imprisoned because others feared him," she continued. "You admitted the situations sounded similar. Suspicion alone is not proof that Azazel deserves to remain trapped."

"… No. It isn't."

Carla watched him. "Then what do you propose?"

Ben's eyes drifted beyond the campfire toward the distant mountainside. "Actually, I may have an idea."

She leaned forward. "You do?"

"Yeah." He pushed himself to his feet and brushed dirt from the back of his pants and turned toward the tent. "You mind getting Wendy out here? We'll need to head back to those ruins."

Carla nodded and rose at once. "I will speak with her."

She crossed the short distance to the shelter and stopped outside the flap. Her stern expression softened before she reached for it.

"Wendy?" Carla called gently. "May I come in?"

No answer came.

Carla waited, listening.

"Wendy?"

The wind stirred the side of the tent.

Her unease sharpened. Carla pulled the flap aside and slipped through the opening.

The bedding inside was rumpled. Wendy's blanket had been pushed aside, and her bag remained in the corner where she had left it. But the girl herself was nowhere inside.

Carla froze. "Ben."

Something in her voice made him cross the campsite before she could repeat his name.

He reached the tent and crouched beside the entrance. "What happened?"

Carla stepped back out. "She's not here."

Ben's eyes widened. He shoved the flap aside and looked inside for himself. The tent was unmistakably empty.

"When did she leave?" Carla asked, alarm tightening her voice.

"I don't know." Ben straightened and looked across the dark plateau, scanning the rocks, the path, and the black silhouette of the mountains beyond.

His stomach dropped.

There was only one place Wendy would have gone.

…

The ruins felt different at night. During the day, shafts of sunlight had filtered through fractures high above, painting the ancient stone in pale gold. Now the mountain had swallowed every trace of daylight. Only the soft glow of Wendy's Light Lacrima pushed back the darkness, revealing weathered walls carved with faded angelic reliefs and rows of ancient runes.

Dust drifted lazily through the soft yellow light as she made her way deeper into the mountain, her footsteps echoing softly through halls that had stood silent for centuries.

She told herself she had not come to disobey Ben.

Well… Not exactly.

She only wanted to know whether Azazel had been telling the truth. Ben himself had admitted he had no proof the Angel was dangerous, and she could not stop thinking about the loneliness in Azazel's voice as his projection faded away.

Even so, Ben's warning followed her through every corridor.

Being helpful doesn't automatically make someone safe.

Wendy tightened her grip around the glowing Lacrima and continued onward. She could already picture the disappointment on Ben's face when he discovered she had left the campsite, but the thought of someone remaining imprisoned simply because everyone had been too afraid to help weighed even more heavily on her heart.

The passage finally opened into the vast central chamber.

Broken pillars rose toward the darkness overhead, some still standing proudly while others leaned at weary angles. Fragments of carved stone lay scattered across the floor, their worn faces bearing the same winged figures and flowing inscriptions that lined the surrounding walls. At the far end of the chamber stood the immense stone gate, its surface covered in intricate runes.

Yet Wendy's eyes were drawn elsewhere.

At the center of the chamber rested the polished black stone.

Unlike everything around it, the mirror-like slab looked almost untouched by time. The darkness within seeming to drink in the surrounding light rather than return it.

Wendy slowed as she approached. "Azazel?" she called softly. "Are you there?"

For several long seconds, only silence answered.

The light in her hand quivered ever so slightly as the stillness of the chamber settled around her. Wendy took another cautious step toward the black stone, wondering whether Azazel's magic had recovered enough for him to hear her.

Then the reflection changed.

The chamber dissolved from the stone's surface, replaced by a brilliant sky washed in pale light. Standing within it was Azazel's true reflected form, no longer the small childlike projection that had accompanied them throughout the day.

For the first time since Wendy had met him, genuine surprise crossed his pale features.

"Wendy?"

She stopped in front of the stone. "Azazel."

His surprise lingered for only a moment before concern softened his features. "Why have you returned?"

Wendy looked down at the glowing Lacrima between her hands. "I wanted to speak with you."

"Alone?"

The quiet question made her hesitate. She raised her eyes again. "Carla and Ben are still at the campsite."

Azazel studied her carefully. "Do they know you are here?"

Her fingers tightened around the crystal. "No."

A faint crease formed between his brows. "Then you should return to them."

Wendy had not expected that answer. "You don't want my help?"

"What I want is irrelevant if helping me places you at odds with those who care for you." His gaze remained gentle, almost regretful. "Ben wished to protect you. Leaving without his knowledge will only deepen his concern."

The guilt already pressing against Wendy's chest grew heavier. "Ben thinks you're dangerous," she said.

"He may be correct."

She blinked. "You don't believe that."

"I believe caution is reasonable when faced with something unknown." His eyes lowered for a moment. "I am unknown to him."

"He thinks you're hiding something."

Azazel's expression remained unchanged. "Everyone hides something, Wendy. Sometimes out of shame, sometimes out of fear, and sometimes because the truth is difficult to explain before trust exists."

Wendy searched his face for some sign of anger or impatience but found neither. He looked exactly as he had earlier: calm, lonely, and strangely patient with every accusation.

She lowered the light Lacrima slightly. "I don't know what to believe."

"That is why you should leave."

"But what if you're telling the truth?" The bluenette asked, her voice growing more urgent. "What if you really were imprisoned because people were afraid of you? What if everyone keeps refusing to help because they've already decided what you are?"

Azazel said nothing.

Wendy stepped closer to the stone. "Ben told me about someone who was treated like a monster when he wasn't one. He said fear can make people do terrible things and still convince themselves they're protecting everyone."

"Ben possesses more wisdom than he allows others to see."

"Then why won't he listen to himself?"

Azazel's gaze moved past her toward the darkness of the ruins. "Because wisdom does not silence fear. Often, it merely teaches us to give fear more convincing names."

Wendy thought of Ben beside the fire, unable to offer anything beyond the instinct warning him that Azazel was dangerous. She remembered how tired he had looked when she accused him of failing to act like a hero.

Her throat tightened. "I shouldn't have said what I said to him."

"You were hurt."

"That doesn't make it right."

"No. But regret is proof that anger has not conquered your kindness."

Wendy drew in a shaky breath. Even now, he was not telling her Ben was cruel or wrong. He was not asking her to choose between them.

"I can't leave you here without doing anything."

Azazel's pale eyes returned to her. "Wendy."

"You said it would only take a small amount of magic to test the seal." She stepped directly before the black stone. "You said it wouldn't free you."

"It may not."

"But it could tell us whether the seal has weakened."

"Yes."

"Then let me help."

The Angel's expression became unreadable. For a moment, the Sky Dragon Slayer wondered whether he would refuse again until the faintest smile touched his face, warm but touched by sadness.

"Your compassion is a rare gift. Thank you."

Wendy placed the glowing crystal carefully on the floor beside her. "What do I need to do?"

"Place your palm against the stone."

"That's all?"

"Then allow a small measure of your magic to flow through it." His voice remained calm. "Do not force it. Guide it, as you guided the wind today."

The familiar advice eased some of the tension from Wendy's shoulders. She raised her right hand and held it inches from the stone. The surface reflected her pale face and anxious eyes beside Azazel's serene image.

Wendy hesitated when Ben's voice returned one final time, and her fingers curled slightly.

Azazel did not pressure her. He merely waited.

Wendy closed her eyes and pressed her palm against the stone.

It was colder than she expected. She took a slow breath, reaching inward for the familiar current of magic resting within her. Rather than pushing it outward, Wendy guided the smallest thread she could manage through her arm and into the black surface.

Nothing happened.

She opened one eye. The stone remained dark. No light appeared, no gate opened, and no imprisoned Angel emerged from the shadows.

Wendy released a breath she had not realized she was holding. "Did it work?"

Azazel's gaze had shifted downward as a thin silver line appeared beneath Wendy's palm. It spread and slipped through the black stone like a crack filling with moonlight. Another line branched away from it, then another, until a web of glowing symbols began forming beneath her hand.

Wendy's relief vanished. "Azazel?"

The silver light raced beyond the stone. Markings hidden across the chamber floor ignited one after another, revealing circles and angular runes buried beneath centuries of dust. Light climbed the pillars, crossed the ceiling, and surged toward the enormous gate at the rear of the chamber. The ruins began to tremble as small fragments of rock clicked across the floor while dust poured from the seams overhead.

Wendy tried to pull her magic back, but the thread connecting her to the stone had already tightened into something far stronger. "That's enough. I think we tested it."

Her hand did not move.

Wendy frowned and pulled harder. Her palm remained fixed against the black surface. "Azazel, I can't let go."

The light intensified beneath her fingers. A sharp pull tore through her arm, drawing more magic from her body before she could stop it. Wendy gasped as the current surged out of her.

"Azazel!"

He did not answer.

Wendy turned her frightened gaze toward the reflection. The warmth had disappeared from his expression. He still looked calm, but it was no longer the patience of someone offering guidance. The Angel watched her with the stillness of someone who had been waiting for a door to open and had finally heard the lock turn.

A deep sound rolled through the chamber and the gate behind Wendy shuddered. Silver light burst along its edges, outlining the immense shape set into the stone. Something pressed against it from the other side, and a hairline gap appeared between the doors.

White vapor poured through. At first, Wendy thought it was mist. Then the vapor twisted, folded, and began taking shape.

Long arms emerged without fully formed hands. Featureless faces surfaced within pale heads, while incomplete wings stretched from bodies made of unstable light. Dozens of figures crowded against the narrow opening, slipping through one by one as though the seal could no longer contain them.

Wendy stared in horror. "W-What are those?"

Azazel's eyes remained fixed on the widening gap. "The first."

"The first what?"

"Those closest to the threshold." His voice was quieter now. "They have waited a very long time."

One of the half-formed Angels dropped to the floor on crooked legs. Its shape flickered between solid flesh and pale energy before its blank face turned toward Wendy.

Another followed, and then three more.

Wendy pulled desperately against the stone. "You said this wouldn't free anyone!"

"I said a small amount of magic could test whether the seal had weakened."

Her breath caught.

Azazel looked at her through the black surface. "It has."

The stone dragged another surge of magic from her. Pain shot through Wendy's chest, and her knees nearly buckled beneath her. "Y-You knew this would happen!"

"I hoped."

The answer struck harder than if he had shouted.

Wendy's eyes burned. "You lied to me."

"No."

Her face twisted in disbelief. "You used me!"

"Yes."

Wendy shook her head, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. "Why?"

For the first time, something resembling regret moved across Azazel's face.

"Have you ever heard the tale of the frog and the scorpion?"

Wendy stared at him, unable to understand how he could speak so calmly while her magic was being torn from her body. The half-formed Angels continued spilling into the chamber behind her, their movements becoming steadier with every pulse from the seal.

Azazel lowered his gaze. "A scorpion once came to the bank of a river," he began. "The current was too powerful for him to cross, so he asked a frog to carry him upon its back."

Wendy strained against the stone again. Her fingers would not even bend.

"The frog refused. It knew the scorpion possessed a stinger and feared that it would be killed before reaching the other side."

Another pulse ripped through Wendy. She cried out and dropped to one knee, her trapped arm stretched painfully above her.

"The scorpion assured the frog that such an act would make no sense," Azazel continued. "If he struck while they crossed, both would drown. Convinced by the logic of this, the frog agreed."

Wendy's breathing became shallow. "Azazel, stop."

"Halfway across the river, the scorpion stung him."

"Please."

"As the poison entered his body, the frog asked why. Why condemn them both when the scorpion had promised otherwise?" Azazel raised his eyes to hers. "The scorpion answered that he had acted according to his nature."

Wendy stared through her tears. "You're saying you couldn't help it?"

"I am saying that I am the scorpion."

The seal pulled again and Wendy screamed as blue-white magic streamed visibly from her arm and disappeared into the stone. The runes surrounding the gate flared, and the narrow opening widened another foot.

Azazel's expression remained composed, though sorrow rested behind his eyes now. "Everything I told you was true. I was imprisoned. I have been alone. I was grateful for your kindness, and I did not wish to deceive you."

"Then why are you doing this?!"

"Because freedom is my nature."

Wendy's strength failed as she slumped against the stone, barely held upright by the hand trapped against its surface. Behind her, the gathering Angels turned toward the corridor as though sensing the open world beyond it.

Azazel watched them with something close to reverence. "I am sorry, Wendy."

A thunderous crash split the chamber.

The wall beside the black stone exploded inward beneath a massive crystal shoulder. Shards of rock and masonry scattered across the room as Diamondhead charged through the dust, eyes locked on Wendy.

"Get away from her!"

"B-Ben!" Wendy cried out, relieved.

Diamondhead crossed the chamber in three heavy strides.

Azazel's reflection turned toward him, but Diamondhead did not slow. His fist enlarged and reshaped itself into a jagged hammer before driving it into the black stone.

The polished surface shattered with a sound like cracking ice. Fractures tore across Azazel's reflected form, breaking his face and wings into dozens of uneven fragments before the entire stone burst apart.

Wendy was thrown backward by the sudden release, her body tumbling through the silver-lit chamber. Carla shot through the broken wall a heartbeat later and caught her by the hem of her dress before she struck the ground.

"Wendy!"

Carla lowered them both behind a fallen pillar. Wendy collapsed against her, one hand clutching her aching wrist while the other pressed weakly against the floor.

Diamondhead stepped between them and the shattered stone. "Are you hurt?"

Carla checked her over. "Her magic has been partially drained."

Wendy grimaced as Carla inspected her trapped hand. Angry red lines marked the center of her palm, and her fingers trembled from the strain.

"My arm hurts," Wendy whispered. "And I feel dizzy."

Diamondhead's expression hardened. "Well then, I'm gonna hurt him."

Wendy looked past her toward Diamondhead. His broad crystalline back remained turned to them, shoulders rigid as he watched the growing legion near the gate.

Tears spilled down her face. "Ben, I—I'm so sorry."

Diamondhead's head shifted slightly.

"You were right," she continued, each word catching in her throat. "I should have listened. I thought I was helping, and now they're getting out because of me."

"We'll talk about it later." His voice was firm, but it did not carry the anger she expected.

Wendy swallowed. "But—"

"Later," Diamondhead repeated as he looked over his shoulder. "Right now, you're alive. That's what matters."

The nearest Angel lunged and Diamondhead spun, driving one fist into its chest. The creature folded around the impact, its unstable body bursting into white mist before reforming several yards away.

He stared at it. "That's new."

The rest of the half-formed legion began moving. Some dragged incomplete wings behind them, while others floated inches above the floor with their limbs hanging at unnatural angles. Their featureless faces turned toward the intruders in unison, and the silver light inside their bodies brightened.

Diamondhead widened his stance. "Carla, get Wendy out of here."

"Gladly."

"No."

Wendy pulled away before Carla could lift her. Her knees nearly gave out when her feet touched the floor, but she steadied herself against the fallen pillar and forced herself upright.

Carla stared at her. "Wendy, you can barely stand."

Wendy started taking deep breaths, beginning to steadily replenish her reserves. "I can still use magic."

"That does not mean you should."

Wendy looked at Diamondhead. Shame tightened her chest, but she refused to lower her eyes. "I know I let you down."

Diamondhead said nothing.

"I didn't trust you when I should have, and I made everything worse." She drew a shaky breath. "Please give me a chance to help fix it."

"You don't have to prove anything right now."

"I'm not trying to prove anything." Her voice trembled, but she kept it steady enough to continue. "Those things are here because of me. I can't run away and leave you to fight them alone."

Carla stepped in front of her. "You would not be running away. You would be surviving."

"I know." Wendy's expression softened as she looked at her. "But I can help both of you survive too."

The Angels advanced another step.

Diamondhead glanced from Wendy to the creatures gathering around the gate. His crystalline face revealed little, but she saw the conflict in the way his fists tightened.

Finally, he nodded. "Okay."

Carla's ears shot upward. "Ben."

"She stays behind me. The second she gets dizzy, loses control, or I tell her to move, you take her out. No arguing."

Wendy nodded immediately. "I understand."

Diamondhead pointed toward the approaching legion. "Remember what we worked on today. Don't try to stop every attack, and don't waste magic trying to overpower them."

Wendy wiped the tears from her face with the back of her sleeve. "Guide them."

"Exactly." Diamondhead turned toward the widening formation. "Move them where we want them. Break up the group, keep them away from Carla, and give me openings."

Wendy planted her feet more firmly. "I can do that."

Carla hovered beside her, still visibly unhappy. "And what am I supposed to do while the two of you indulge this dreadful plan?"

Diamondhead slammed his crystal fists together. "Try not to get hit."

Carla's eyes narrowed. "Excellent strategy."

"Hey, I'm improvising."

The half-formed Angels surged forward.

Diamondhead drove both hands into the ruined floor. Green crystal erupted outward in a jagged line, splitting the advancing legion and forcing several creatures toward the walls.

Beside him, Wendy closed her eyes for one brief moment. She drew in a slow breath, ignoring the lingering pain in her arm. The air gathered around her, not as a single violent gust but as several precise currents winding between the pillars and broken stones.

Her eyes opened.

The first Angel leapt over Diamondhead's crystal barrier.

Wendy turned her wrist. The wind curved around the creature's body and carried it sideways, redirecting its charge directly toward Diamondhead. He met it with a rising crystal fist that launched it into the ceiling.

Another came from the left.

Wendy angled the air beneath its wings, twisting its unstable body away from Carla and into the path of two more advancing figures. All three collided and collapsed into a tangled mass of pale limbs and unfinished feathers.

Diamondhead glanced back at her. "That's it!"

Wendy steadied her breathing as more Angels poured through the weakening seal. Fear still twisted in her stomach. She could not undo what she had done, but she could decide what happened next.

The tangled Angels pulled themselves free, their unfinished wings beating without rhythm as they spread across the chamber. Diamondhead met them before they could surround Wendy. Both forearms lengthened into broad crystal blades, and he swept the first through the nearest creature's chest. The edge passed through pale light before catching something solid beneath it, hurling the Angel sideways.

Two more descended from above. Diamondhead ducked beneath a clawed hand, drove one blade through the second creature's middle, and threw it into the third. Both bodies burst into shining vapor, but the scattered light immediately began pulling itself back together.

"Okay," the Petrosapien muttered as an arm reformed before the rest of its owner. "So hitting them kinda works. Just not for very long."

A white beam crossed the chamber. Diamondhead deflected it with one arm, but another Angel aimed past him toward Carla.

Wendy forced herself to inhale instead of panic. She wrapped a current around the beam and bent it upward, scorching the ceiling instead of Carla.

The white feline glanced at the smoking stone. "A little lower next time, if you please."

"I'm sorry," Wendy replied, keeping her breaths measured and her feet light despite the dizziness pulling at her balance.

Diamondhead slammed both palms against the floor. Crystal surged upward around a group of Angels, jagged walls folding inward to seal them inside turquoise prisons.

The crystalline alien straightened. "See? Sometimes the simplest plan—"

One captive flickered and passed through the crystal as white vapor. The others followed, emerging unharmed.

"—is a complete waste of time," he finished as another Angel phased through a crystal ridge. It solidified long enough to slash at him, but Diamondhead caught its wrist.

The arm dissolved between his fingers. "Physical when they hit us, energy when I grab them. Yeah, that's not annoying at all."

His eyes narrowed. "Okay, if crystal won't hold them, let's see how they handle a little juice." He tapped the Omnitrix badge on his chest, and green light flooded the ruins.

When the light faded, Diamondhead was replaced by a blue, jellyfish-like creature with its body formed from three overlapping, skirt-like sections that covered the head, chest, and abdomen like layered armor. White markings streaked across its blue surface like branching flashes of lightning, framing two large, pupil-less green eyes. Six long tentacles unfurled beneath him—four serving as flexible arms while the remaining pair hung like legs—as his weightless body rose several feet above the floor. The Omnitrix dial was positioned on his chest.

"Ampfibian!" he announced in a raspy voice.

Carla stared at him. "You have somehow become even less anatomically reasonable," she remarked.

Ampfibian turned toward the legion. "Save the compliments for after we don't get vaporized."

An Angel lunged through a pillar toward him.

Ampfibian turned translucent, allowing it to pass through his body, then discharged electricity while they overlapped. The blue-white current tore through the creature until it burst apart, its pieces scattering like sparks instead of reforming.

Ampfibian's green eyes widened. "There we go."

He snapped two tentacles forward. Electricity branched across three more Angels, distorting their bodies until each collapsed into drifting light.

The legion answered with a barrage of brilliant golden-yellow beams, Holy Light lancing across the chamber from half a dozen directions at once.

"Wendy, look out!" Carla shouted as the volley converged on them.

Wendy took a single step and drew in a steady breath. She turned with the motion of the attacks, exhaled, and guided the air around them rather than meeting their power head-on.

Precise currents curled between the broken pillars, catching the beams and bending them away into empty space or the surrounding walls. One slipped through the shifting pattern and streaked toward Carla from behind, but Wendy felt the disturbance it created in the air before she saw it.

Ignoring the pain in her right arm, she pivoted and raised both hands. Wind swept around Carla in a curved shell, catching the Holy Light and guiding it along the barrier until the beam veered into a fallen pillar and split the stone cleanly down the middle.

Carla hovered beside her, eyes widening as fragments scattered across the floor. "You sensed that?"

"I felt the air move," Wendy answered, keeping her gaze fixed on the advancing Angels.

They no longer appeared to her as one overwhelming mass. Wendy could see each body separately now, along with the open paths between them and the countless currents waiting to be guided.

"Ben, above you!" Wendy called out as two Angels dropped from the darkness.

Ampfibian's upper tentacles stretched around their waists, yanking them together before he flooded both with blue-colored electricity. Their wings shattered as he hurled them toward the chamber's center, where their bodies disintegrated.

Wendy understood immediately. She swept her arms outward, catching the remaining Angels in opposing currents and forcing them toward the same point. Even those that became vapor were carried wherever she directed.

"Ben, now!" she shouted.

Ampfibian pulled his tentacles close as the markings across his body blazed.

Electricity gathered between his layered sections. "Everybody brace!"

A circular wave exploded outward. Wendy caught its edge before it reached Carla, bending the energy inward until lightning and air twisted into a tightening spiral around the legion. The Angels thrashed as each pulse shredded their unstable bodies. Whenever fragments scattered, Wendy's currents swept them back into the storm for Ampfibian to strike again.

One by one, their forms broke apart. The final creature reached toward the corridor before electricity reduced it to glowing motes.

Wendy carried the fragments upward until every trace vanished. Her knees buckled, but Carla caught her before she reached the floor.

Ampfibian floated down, faint sparks crawling along his tentacles. "You did good."

Wendy looked at her burned palm. "After doing something really bad."

"Both can be true," the Amperi replied gently. "You messed up, and then you helped fix it. That doesn't erase what happened, but hey, it matters."

A deep groan rolled through the mountain. All three turned toward the gate, where the silver crack still pulsed with light.

Carla tightened her hold around Wendy. "Please tell me that was the worst of it."

Another impact struck from the other side. Ampfibian raised his tentacles as electricity gathered along their tips. "I'd love to. But I'd be lying."

The crack in the gate widened with a slow scrape of stone against stone. Pale light poured through the opening, spreading across the chamber floor as the remaining dust and fragments began to rise into the air.

Ampfibian drifted between the gate and the others, four tentacles raised as electricity crawled along their tips. "Wendy, stay behind me. Carla, keep her moving if this place starts coming down."

"I am perfectly capable of recognizing a collapsing mountain," Carla replied. "It is one of the easier dangers to identify."

Something moved behind the opening. A slender hand slipped through first, followed by a pale arm and a sweep of spotless white feathers. The figure did not force the gate any farther apart. Instead, his body passed through the narrow space as though the stone were no more substantial than mist.

Azazel emerged into the chamber.

He appeared exactly as he had within the black stone: tall and graceful, with white robes draped loosely across his slender body and enormous wings spreading behind him. His long silver hair had been gathered into a thick braid that fell between his shoulders, while his pale blue eyes held the same gentle calm Wendy had trusted only moments earlier.

The Sky Dragon Slayer's breathing faltered. "Azazel…"

His feet settled soundlessly upon the ruined floor. "You have done well, Wendy. Better than I expected after so much of your magic was taken."

Ampfibian's tentacles shifted to block her view of him. "You don't get to compliment her after using her as a magical can opener."

Azazel regarded the Amperi without anger. "The seal required magic freely offered. Nothing I could have taken by force would have opened even this small passage."

"That isn't helping your case," Ampfibian said as a brighter current snapped between his upper tentacles. "Not that you still have one."

A faint smile touched the Angel's lips. He then raised one hand behind his head, his movements slow enough that everyone could see them clearly.

His fingers closed around the base of his braid.

Without breaking eye contact with Wendy, Azazel drew the long coil of silver hair over his shoulder. Loose strands followed it forward, sliding away from the back of his skull and revealing what the hair had concealed.

Carla recoiled. "Wendy, do not look."

It was too late.

A second face occupied the back of Azazel's head.

Where the first was serene and beautiful, the hidden face was stretched into something predatory. Colorless eyes burned within darkened sockets, and its mouth spread far too wide across its pale features, packed with narrow, interlocking teeth. Thin braids framed its cheeks while a cruel amusement twisted the corners of its grin.

Wendy's stomach turned. The same voice that had corrected her breathing and praised her compassion now emerged from that monstrous mouth.

"At last," the hidden face whispered, "you look at me honestly."

Ampfibian's posture hardened. "Trust me, we're seeing plenty."

The demonic face laughed softly. A thin line appeared along the center of Azazel's body, beginning between the two faces and descending through his neck, chest, and waist. His flesh opened without blood or resistance. The split was far too smooth to resemble an injury. It looked natural, as though Azazel had never been one being at all and his body had merely remembered how it was supposed to come apart.

The two sides peeled away from one another.

Pale radiance flowed into the missing half of the angelic figure, completing its body with translucent light. It retained the beautiful face, one powerful wing, a graceful arm, and a single solid leg beneath its flowing robes, while luminous energy formed the rest of its shape.

The other half descended on clawed toes.

Shadowed Holy Light filled the missing side of its body, flickering like dark fire beneath torn white cloth. Its single wing was jagged and uneven, its feathers ending in sharp points, while elongated fingers curled eagerly at its side.

(A/N: Credit to BálintM)

Wendy stared between them. "T-There are two of you?"

"There has only ever been one Azazel," the angelic half answered, its voice soft and familiar.

The demonic half widened its serrated grin. "You simply preferred the half that was easier to love."

Both figures moved at once.

The angelic half swept toward Wendy in a streak of white radiance, while the demonic half crossed the chamber toward Ben with its clawed hand extended. Ampfibian snapped two tentacles around the darker figure's arm and waist, arresting its charge before the talons reached him.

"Wendy, yours is coming right!" he warned as he hurled his opponent into a broken pillar. "Carla, stay with her!"

The angelic half raised one finger.

A needle-thin beam flashed toward Wendy's chest.

She reacted on instinct, throwing both hands forward and summoning a broad gust. The beam tore through the center of the wind and grazed her left shoulder, spinning her halfway around before Carla steadied her.

"You used too much," the angelic Azazel observed as he floated past a shattered column. "You felt fear and attempted to overpower it."

Wendy gritted her teeth against the burning line across her shoulder.

Three feathers separated from his wing. They hardened into shining blades and shot toward her from different angles.

The bluenette took a step, inhaled, and forced herself not to plant her feet. A narrow current curled beneath the first feather and carried it over her head, while a second gust altered the path of the next just enough for it to miss Carla.

The third came low.

Wendy released a small burst beneath her heels and lifted herself sideways. The feather carved through the place where her ankle had been before burying itself in the floor.

Azazel watched her land. "Better."

Across the chamber, the demonic half tore free of Ampfibian's tentacles and slashed its claws through his chest. The strike passed through the Amperi's intangible body, but corrupted golden fire followed the hand and exploded behind him.

Ampfibian twisted in midair as the blast threw him through a hanging curtain of dust. He caught himself before striking the wall and discharged a bolt from all four tendrils. The demonic half crossed its single wing over its body. Blue electricity ripped through the feathers and blasted pieces from the unstable half of its torso, but dark light immediately began filling the gaps.

"You recognized me before the child did," it said, lowering its scorched wing. "Do you know why?"

Ampfibian's tentacles spread. "Because she tries to see the good in people, and I've met enough creeps to recognize one."

"Because monsters know one another." Half-formed figures crawled out of the demon's shadow. They were smaller than the legion, possessing only claws, torsos, and unfinished wings, but they rushed the Omnitrix bearer from every side.

Ampfibian became intangible as the first passed through him. He seized two others with his tentacles, electrified them until their bodies ruptured, and swept the remaining creatures aside with a circular lash.

"Sorry," he replied, electricity flashing brighter across his markings. "I don't take advice from the decaying face you hid under your hair."

The angelic half released a pressure wave toward Wendy. It was invisible except for the dust rising ahead of it, but she felt the sudden change in the air and pushed Carla upward before moving in the opposite direction.

The wave struck between them and shattered the floor.

Carla beat her wings against the turbulent air, fighting to remain aloft. "I hope you have noticed that his guidance has become considerably less helpful."

"He wants me to panic," Wendy said, drawing another controlled breath. "He's waiting for me to waste my magic."

Azazel glided through the settling dust. "You improved more in a few hours beneath my guidance than you did throughout the rest of your journey."

A slicing arc of Holy Light swept from his hand. Wendy guided a current beneath Carla and carried her over it, then used a second, smaller burst to slide beneath the attack herself.

"You taught me something useful," Wendy admitted as she rose. "That part was real."

"Then why reject what I offer?" Six narrow beams formed around his fingertips, each aimed toward a different point around Wendy. "Fear has convinced Ben that knowledge becomes poison merely because he dislikes its source."

The beams fired.

Wendy moved before they reached her.

She did not try to stop all six. Two were guided into the ceiling, another curved harmlessly past Carla, and Wendy twisted between the remaining lines with the smallest possible burst of wind.

One beam grazed her dress, but none touched her skin.

Wendy raised her eyes toward him. "Because you weren't helping me just to be kind."

The gentleness in Azazel's expression faltered.

"You taught me so I would trust you," she continued, her voice steadier despite her exhaustion. "Real help doesn't come with a hidden price. If you truly cared about helping me, you wouldn't have needed me to open your prison first."

His wing snapped forward and dozens of luminous feathers filled the air.

Wendy's fear surged, but she breathed through it. Instead of forming one enormous wall, she divided the air into smaller currents and created winding paths between the projectiles. Feathers curved around her and Carla in streams of pale light. Several struck the walls behind them, while Wendy caught the final cluster in a rotating current and sent it back toward Azazel.

The angelic half swept them aside, but the movement forced him to retreat for the first time.

Wendy noticed, and so did he.

The demonic Azazel drove its claws into the ruined floor. Corrupted Holy Light raced outward in branching veins, pursuing Ampfibian across the chamber before pillars of dark flame erupted wherever the energy passed.

Ampfibian twisted between the eruptions, becoming intangible whenever one closed across his path. He looped a tentacle around a broken pillar, swung behind the demon, and unleashed a point-blank electrical discharge into its unfinished side.

The demonic half convulsed as blue-white lightning tore through its body. Before Ampfibian could phase away, however, Azazel spun with unnatural speed and seized one of his lower tentacles.

The instant those claws closed around him, a cold pressure slid behind the Amperi's eyes. Images flashed through his thoughts without permission: the volcanic battlefield, the Magtartus brothers lying helpless before him, and Ultimate Heatblast's molten tendrils poised to pierce their chests.

Ampfibian jerked against Azazel's grip, alarm cutting through his anger. What the heck was that?!

"I see," Azazel murmured, its serrated grin slowly widening. "You were prepared to kill the Magtartus brothers after they had already fallen."

Ampfibian's pupil-less eyes narrowed. "I never told you about that."

"You did not need to." Strands of corrupted light curled around the claws gripping his tentacle. "When our essences touched, your strongest memories rose to meet me."

"Stay out of my head."

"I did not enter it," the demonic entity replied, almost amused. “You carry that guilt so close to the surface that all I had to do was listen."

Azazel tightened its hold and swung Ampfibian overhead. “Caution did not protect Sun Village. Power did." It hurled him across the chamber. The Amperi struck the floor, bounced once, and plunged two tentacles into the stone, dragging himself to a stop.

"Pretty sure the part where I saved everyone did most of the protecting," Ampfibian shot back as he levitated off the floor.

Azazel stalked toward him, dark fire winding around its arm and hardening into several hooked claws. “You wanted to end them. Wendy's arrival did not change your judgment. It merely reminded you that someone was watching."

The words struck closer than the attack had. Electricity brightened beneath Ampfibian's translucent body, snapping between his tentacles in increasingly violent arcs. "You saw one memory. You don't know anything about me."

"I know what you became.” Azazel lunged.

Ampfibian thrust all four arm-tentacles forward and released a concentrated bolt into the demon's chest. The attack drove it back half a step, but corrupted Holy Light flared around its body in a burning shell, allowing it to force its way through the current. Its claw slammed into the layered section covering Ampfibian's chest. The impact launched him into a nearby pillar hard enough to fracture the ancient stone, sending dust and broken masonry raining around him.

Azazel closed the distance before he could recover. Its serrated smile hovered inches from Ampfibian's face as one claw pressed against his chest.

"You reached for a creature born from suffering because restraint had become inconvenient,” the demon whispered. “And for one glorious moment, deciding who deserved to live felt natural."

Ampfibian's entire body erupted with electricity. The discharge ripped Azazel away and hurled it across the chamber. It struck the sealed gate with a thunderous crash, and part of its unstable body broke apart into ribbons of dark light. The jellyfish-like alien pulled himself from the fractured pillar, his tentacles trembling with anger. Electricity lashed through the air around him, uncontrolled sparks scorching the floor wherever they landed.

One tentacle rose toward the Omnitrix emblem on his chest.

The demonic half watched his gaze drop to the symbol. Shadowed radiance knitted its broken side back together, and its smile stretched wider.

"Yes,” it breathed. “Do it."

Ampfibian's tentacle curled around the edge of the dial.

"Go Ultimate,” Azazel urged. Its colorless eyes shifted deliberately toward Wendy across the chamber. “Show her what you truly are."

Ampfibian's eyes narrowed. For one brief moment, anger made the choice feel simple. But then another voice rose through his thoughts.

Azmuth's voice.

The Evolutionary Function is not for spectacle. It is not for convenience, intimidation, or feeding your considerable ego.

Ampfibian's tentacle stopped.

You will use it only when the alternative is catastrophe. Not because an opponent is difficult. Not because you are angry. Not because you wish to finish a battle faster.

The wild sparks surrounding him began to weaken.

You use it when lives will otherwise be lost and every safer option has failed.

Ampfibian looked past Azazel. Wendy was still standing, with Carla beside her. The seal remained damaged, but the mountain was not collapsing, and Azazel had not defeated them. The fight was dangerous, but it was not hopeless. For another second, his tentacle hovered over the Omnitrix emblem.

He then lowered it.

"No."

The triumph vanished from Azazel's monstrous face. “You know that power would end this."

"Yeah. Probably."

"Then use it."

Ampfibian drifted away from the damaged pillar, electricity gathering around his tentacles in controlled arcs rather than bursting wildly from his body. "Nice try, dude. You keep dragging up the bad call I made because you think if I get angry enough, I'll do exactly what you want."

The demonic half spread its jagged wing. “You are afraid of yourself."

Ampfibian went still for a moment. "I'd have to be an idiot not to be."

The amusement faded from Azazel's face.

"But being scared of what I can do doesn't mean you get to choose for me." Ampfibian raised all four tendrils as blue-white electricity intensified across his body. "And you definitely don't get to tell me what kind of hero I am."

He launched forward and instead of meeting the demon's claws, Ampfibian phased through its body and wrapped all four arm-tentacles around the unstable energy completing its missing side. Blue-colored electricity flowed through the constructs from within, disrupting the dark Holy Light before Azazel could harden it.

The demon snarled and twisted, its solid half tearing free while its energy side scattered across the chamber. Ampfibian pursued, striking each fragment with narrow, controlled bolts before it could return.

Across the ruins, Wendy felt the change in Ampfibian's attacks. He was no longer trying to overwhelm his opponent either. He was dismantling it piece by piece.

The angelic half appeared directly before her, its calm expression finally gone. Holy Light gathered along its arm until the entire limb became a curved blade.

"You mistake defiance for wisdom,” Azazel said as he swept the weapon toward her. “You will learn that strength without guidance is merely another path to ruin."

Wendy stepped into the attack instead of retreating.

A compact gust altered the blade's angle by inches. It passed beside her face, close enough to stir her hair.

"Sky Dragon's Wing Attack!” She directed the spell into Azazel's exposed side. Twin currents struck the incomplete body and carried it across the chamber.

The angelic half collided with the demonic one just as Ampfibian released another electrical burst. Pale and shadowed light tangled together, both figures driven back toward the cracked gate.

For the first time, Azazel's two faces looked uncertain.

Wendy landed beside the Amperi, breathing hard as Carla descended near her shoulder. Ampfibian shifted one tentacle protectively in front of them without taking his eyes from their enemies.

"You still with me?" he asked.

Wendy nodded, though her legs trembled beneath her. "I can keep going."

Carla frowned at both of them. "I would prefer that neither of you interpret that as a challenge."

The gate shuddered again.

Silver radiance surged through the crack and flooded into both halves of Azazel's avatar. Their damaged bodies straightened as the missing sides rebuilt themselves, brighter and more substantial than before.

The angelic half raised its graceful hand while the demonic half lifted its claws.

Holy Light gathered between them, one side brilliant gold and the other burning with a dark, violet-edged flame. The two energies stretched across the chamber toward one another, forming a growing sphere that pulled loose stone, shattered feathers, and lingering sparks into its orbit.

Ampfibian's markings blazed as he raised his tentacles. "Okay. Pretty sure this is the part where things get worse."

Wendy planted her feet and drew in another careful breath. Wind curled around her and Carla, then spread outward through the chamber in dozens of narrow currents.

Azazel's two voices spoke together, one gentle and the other filled with teeth. “Then let us see how long your restraint survives its consequences."

The sphere of opposing light tightened between Azazel's two halves. Gold and violet folded over one another, compressing until the surrounding air screamed and hairline fractures spread across the stone beneath them.

The angelic half then seized control as the golden portion tore free from the sphere and rushed along its graceful arm, gathering within its open palm. Violet fire wound through the Holy Light like veins of poison, sharpening the radiance into a concentrated point aimed directly at Wendy.

Ampfibian recognized the attack a heartbeat before it fired. His body surged forward, electricity flaring across all four raised tentacles as he moved to place himself between Wendy and the incoming blast.

"Ben, don't!" Wendy cried.

Ampfibian hesitated in midair. "Wendy, that thing's way too fast!"

"I know." She planted her feet despite the weakness in her knees and raised her trembling hands. "But this is my fight."

Carla's eyes widened as the light in Azazel's palm intensified. "Wendy, this is hardly the moment to become stubborn!"

Wendy kept her gaze fixed on the angelic half. Her breathing quickened, but she forced each breath into a steady rhythm instead of allowing fear to steal it from her.

"I need to do this. Please trust me."

The request struck Ampfibian harder than she realized. For a fraction of a second, he remained poised to cross the chamber anyway, every instinct telling him to shield her from the attack.

He then drew back.

"Okay," Ampfibian replied, though electricity remained gathered along his tentacles. "Show him what you got!"

Azazel's serene face hardened. “Then perish by the wisdom you believe you have gained."

The Holy Light erupted from his palm. The beam crossed the chamber as a single condensed lance, tearing dust and fragments from the floor as it rushed toward her.

Wendy brought both hands together. Wind gathered between her palms, but it immediately bucked against her control. The current twisted too sharply, collapsed in the center, and burst outward strongly enough to whip her long blue hair across her face.

Carla hovered closer. "Wendy!"

"I'm all right," she insisted, although pain stabbed through her injured arm. Wendy separated her hands and began circling them in opposite directions, drawing the scattered wind back before it could escape.

One current became two. The outer current rotated clockwise, while a narrower layer spun against it from within. Both trembled as Wendy tried to hold them together, forming the rough shape of a spiraling tunnel in front of her.

"Sky Dragon's…" Wendy gritted her teeth as the unstable vortex nearly tore itself apart. "Spinning Maelstrom!"

The Holy Light struck.

The collision forced Wendy backward, her sandals scraping across the stone as the outer layer of wind compressed against her. Golden radiance flooded the vortex and pushed through its center, slowing only slightly as cracks appeared in the rotating current.

"It is failing," the angelic half said. His voice carried effortlessly through the roar. "You cannot guide power greater than your own."

Wendy's arms shook violently. For one frightened instant, she almost threw everything she had into the spell and tried to crush the Holy Light beneath a stronger blast of wind.

But then Ben's earlier instruction returned to her.

I don't want speed. I want control.

Wendy stopped trying to strengthen the vortex and instead changed its angle. The first layer continued rotating against the Holy Light, dragging at its edges and slowing the beam without attempting to halt it. Wendy tightened the second current around its center and shifted one hand slightly to the left.

The beam bent by less than an inch.

Wendy felt it happen. "I'm not trying to stop it," she said through clenched teeth.

The angelic half's eyes narrowed.

Wendy stepped sideways and turned with the force pressing against her. The inner layer of the Maelstrom followed the movement, carrying the Holy Light into a gradually curving path.

"I'm carrying it somewhere else!"

The golden beam bent farther. It passed beside Wendy close enough for its heat to burn across her cheek, but the rotating wind held. Rather than striking her, the Holy Light curved through the chamber and slammed into a circular symbol carved into the base of the eastern wall.

The impact illuminated every line within it.

Wendy's eyes widened as the symbol flared blue beneath the gold. Runes spread outward from the circle in branching paths, racing through the chamber floor before converging upon the ruined entrance behind them.

Azazel's angelic half turned sharply toward the glowing pattern. For the first time, every trace of serenity vanished from his face.

"No."

A deep grinding sound rolled into the chamber from outside. Stone scraped against earth. Loose gravel shifted across the mountain path, followed by several tremendous impacts that sent vibrations through the floor beneath Wendy's sandals.

Ampfibian glanced toward the entrance. "Please tell me that's the mountain settling."

Carla's ears flattened as four enormous silhouettes appeared beneath the broken arch. "Mountains do not normally walk."

The golems that had lined the approach were moving.

Each stood twice the height of a man, its body carved from massive slabs of pale granite. Moss hung from their broad shoulders and backs like ancient cloaks, while dirt and tangled roots spilled from the places where their legs had rested half-buried in the earth.

Blue light burned within the eyes of their expressionless stone faces. The same radiance flowed through the deep cracks covering their limbs, revealing lines of runes that had been hidden beneath centuries of moss and weathering.

One after another, the four guardians ducked beneath the partially collapsed arch and entered the chamber. Their heavy footsteps shook dust from the ceiling, yet their movements remained controlled and purposeful rather than clumsy. Symbols ignited across their chests as the moss burned away in pale blue sparks. Each displayed a pair of wings bound within a circular chain.

The first golem surveyed the chamber, its illuminated gaze passing over Wendy and Carla before settling upon Azazel's divided form. A voice like boulders grinding together reverberated from somewhere deep inside its body.

"ANGELIC ESSENCE IDENTIFIED."

The remaining guardians turned toward the prison gate.

"SEAL BREACH CONFIRMED."

Blue light surged through the markings covering their bodies.

Carla stared up at the advancing figures. "Those were not decorative statues."

"Looks like Wendy found the alarm system," Ampfibian replied.

The demonic half recoiled for the first time, its serrated grin twisting into a snarl. “Those guardians were extinguished centuries ago."

"Apparently nobody told them," Ampfibian said.

The nearest golem swung one colossal arm toward the angelic half. Azazel raised his wing and formed a barrier of Holy Light, but the stone fist crashed through it and drove him across the chamber. His incomplete body struck the floor and skipped through a row of broken pillars. Pale energy scattered from his missing side before snapping back toward the crack in the gate.

Wendy saw it clearly now. A thin strand of silver light extended from the angelic half's back to the opening in the prison. Another connected the demonic half to the gate, though its tether burned darker and pulsed like a living vein.

"They're still attached to the gate!" Wendy called.

Two golems converged upon the demonic half. Azazel released a wave of corrupted Holy Light, but one guardian planted its feet and absorbed the attack across the glowing runes covering its chest.

The other drove both hands into the floor. Bands of blue light erupted around the demonic half, forming heavy chains of interlocking symbols. They wrapped around his solid arm, jagged wing, and unstable torso before pulling him toward the gate.

Azazel's serrated grin twisted into a snarl. “Release me!"

The golem gave no answer. It tightened the chains until fractures spread through the dark energy completing his missing side.

The final guardian marched toward the prison gate and pressed both palms against its surface. Blue runes poured outward beneath its hands, spreading across the silver cracks Wendy's magic had created.

The gap began to narrow.

Azazel's angelic half rose from the rubble and stared toward the closing gate. “Stop them!” Its voice no longer sounded patient or gentle. Panic sharpened every word as it fired a volley of golden feathers at the guardian reinforcing the seal.

The feathers never reached it.

Ampfibian intercepted them with a sweeping electrical arc, reducing each projectile to sparks before they crossed half the chamber.

"Yeah, not happening dude!"

The demonic half tore one claw free from the glowing chains. It sliced through a golem's shoulder, shattering a massive section of stone and sending the guardian's arm crashing to the floor.

The impact shook the ruins.

"They cannot contain me again!” Azazel roared. Both voices echoed through the chamber now, the angelic half's anger merging with the demonic half's fury. “I will not return to that darkness!"

Ampfibian's gaze followed the two glowing tethers stretching from Azazel's divided forms toward the prison.

"You never actually got out." Electricity crackled along his raised tentacles as his eyes narrowed. "These bodies are just puppets, and those chains lead straight back to the real you."

Wendy looked from the tethers to the golems struggling to restrain Azazel. The guardians were forcing both halves closer to the gate, but the damaged golem was already losing strength.

The opening would not last long.

"Ben," Wendy said, breathing hard. "We have to break those connections."

"Way ahead of you."

Ampfibian slapped one tentacle against the Omnitrix emblem on his chest. Green light filled the chamber, briefly overpowering the gold, violet, and blue radiance surrounding them.

When it faded, a humanoid being of fire and stone stood in his place.

"Heatblast!"

The angelic half stared at the flames. “You believe fire will harm a being of Holy Light?"

Heatblast spread his hands. "I was thinking we could test it."

Carla landed beside Wendy and immediately took hold of her uninjured arm. "You have already tested quite enough ancient magic for one day."

Wendy almost smiled, but her attention remained on the tethers. "Heatblast's fire can damage their energy, but it needs to reach both connections without hitting the golems."

"Or bringing the roof down," the feline added sharply.

"Yeah, that too." Heatblast looked toward Wendy, his eyes narrowing in thought. "Remember what we did against those plant monsters?"

Wendy nodded. "I used my wind to make your flames stronger."

"This time, don't make them bigger." The Pyronite extended one hand as fire gathered above his palm. "Make them precise."

Understanding crossed Wendy's face.

Heatblast shifted his stance and faced the struggling avatars while Wendy pulled free of Carla gently and stepped forward. Her legs trembled, but she kept her breathing steady as she raised both hands.

"I can guide it."

Carla moved close enough to catch her if she fell. "I strongly object to this plan."

Heatblast glanced toward her. "You object to all our plans."

"Because most of them are dreadful."

"Fair, but this one's only a little dreadful."

The angelic half slashed through the rune-chains surrounding its arm. Light flared from its wing as it turned toward Wendy, rage replacing the false compassion it had worn earlier.

"You would reject my guidance only to make yourself dependent upon him?"

Wendy's hands tightened, and the first traces of wind began circling her wrists. "Ben didn't make me earn his help by opening a prison."

The angelic half's face twisted.

"He helped me because I needed it," Wendy continued. "And when I made a mistake, he still came after me."

Heatblast's shoulders straightened slightly, though he kept his attention on Azazel. "Yeah, well, somebody had to stop you from making the whole evil angel thing everybody else's problem."

The demonic half ripped another glowing chain apart. “Sentiment will not save you."

"Maybe not," Heatblast replied as flames swelled between his palms. "But this might."

His normal orange-yellow fire surged outward. Heatblast held it in place rather than releasing it, compressing the blaze until it formed a dense sphere between his hands.

He then reached deeper…and a faint pulse answered from within.

Crimson threaded through the flame, winding through Heatblast's ordinary blaze in thin lines of molten gold and infernal red. Even that small amount changed the chamber. The heat became denser, pressing against the skin rather than merely washing over it.

Azazel's two halves turned toward the flame, and for the first time, both appeared uncertain.

Carla felt it as well. "T-That is the Dragon's fire…"

"Just a little," Heatblast's voice tightened as he controlled the unfamiliar power. "Atlas Flame told me to practice before going crazy with it."

The wounded golem stumbled as the demonic half drove its claws through the runes on its chest. Blue light flickered across the guardian's body, and the chains holding Azazel began to loosen.

"Wendy!" Carla warned.

"I'm ready!"

"In the spirit of shouting out attacks… Hellfire Dragon's Blazing Torrent!" Heatblast thrust both palms forward, and fire roared across the chamber.

"Sky Dragon's Spinning Maelstrom!" Wendy caught the blaze before it could spread. Wind wrapped around its edges, drawing the flames into the mouth of the whirlwind.

The technique trembled almost immediately. Fire filled both rotating layers, threatening to tear them apart from within. Wendy adjusted her wrists and allowed the outer current to spin wider, giving the blaze room to move instead of trying to confine it by force.

The flames changed shape. Instead of expanding into a wall, they narrowed into a spiraling column no wider than one of the ruined pillars. Orange fire formed the outer edge while the trace of Hell Flame burned through its center like a crimson spine.

Wendy turned her body…and the fire followed.

It curved around the first golem, passed beneath the arm of the second, and wound through the narrow opening between the ancient guardians. Not a single stray flame touched the surrounding walls.

Heatblast's fiery mouth stretched into a grin. "Nice aim."

The angelic half raised its wing and formed a radiant barrier. “Your strength is borrowed, child!"

Wendy shifted one foot forward. The vortex bent with her movement, carrying Heatblast's flames directly toward him.

"No. We're sharing it."

The spiraling fire struck and Azazel's shield held for less than a second. The Hell Flame at the center burned through the Holy Light, opening a narrow hole that Heatblast's ordinary fire immediately flooded.

The angelic half screamed as the blaze entered its false body.

Pale radiance peeled away in sheets. Its graceful face fractured along the cheek and forehead, revealing empty light beneath the features Wendy had once trusted.

The angelic half reached toward her. “Wendy!"

Her control wavered at the familiar voice. The flame bucked inside the vortex and nearly struck the nearest golem. Wendy's eyes widened, but she inhaled, turned her wrist, and guided it back into its intended path.

"You don't get to use my name like that anymore!" She swept both arms to the side.

The Spinning Maelstrom carried the fire through the angelic half's entire body. Its wing scattered into burning feathers, its robes dissolved into silver ash, and its beautiful face broke apart before the flames reduced the avatar to a cloud of radiant fragments.

The strand connecting it to the gate snapped. The released energy rushed backward and struck the prison seal, causing the mountain to tremble.

"One down!" Heatblast called. "Move it right!"

Wendy rotated the vortex again.

The remaining fire curved before it could dissipate, sweeping in a wide arc behind the golems. Heatblast shifted his palms and fed another controlled stream into the spinning current.

The demonic half saw the attack coming. It tore free from the last rune-chain and launched itself toward Wendy, claws extended. Dark Holy Light gathered around its body, forming the shape of a shrieking beast around its solid half.

Carla summoned her wings and grabbed the back of Wendy's dress. "Move!"

Heatblast swept one arm upward and a wall of fire burst from the floor between Wendy and Azazel, forcing the demonic half to twist aside. That small change in direction carried it directly into the path Wendy had created.

The Spinning Maelstrom closed around him.

Azazel slashed through the outer wind layer, but the inner current continued rotating. It dragged the fire around his unstable side and wrapped the blaze around the dark tether connecting him to the prison.

The demon's cruel face contorted. “No!"

Heatblast clenched both fists. The faint trace of Hell Flame surged along the center of the attack and the crimson fire struck the tether. The connection stretched, flickered, and began to fray. Azazel clawed at the surrounding vortex as the golems recovered and seized his remaining solid limbs.

"You cannot hold me!” he roared.

The guardians pulled toward the gate.

Wendy pulled the opposite way, guiding Heatblast's fire tightly around the weakening connection. Sweat ran down her face and pain burned through her injured arm, but she refused to release the current.

"Ben, now!"

Heatblast brought his hands together and the flames compressed. For one instant, every strand of fire within the Spinning Maelstrom narrowed around the tether. The Pyronite then tore his hands apart, and the concentrated blaze erupted from within.

The connection ruptured. Dark light exploded across the chamber. Azazel's demonic half twisted soundlessly as its unstable side collapsed, followed by its wing, limbs, and serrated face.

The golems released what remained.

Light and shadow spiraled toward the prison gate, dragged backward through the narrowing crack. The angelic fragments followed, both halves mixing into a distorted silhouette that briefly stood within the opening.

Azazel's two faces appeared together one final time.

"You have not defeated me,” his voices said from beyond the gate. One remained soft while the other scraped through the air like claws against stone. “You have merely delayed my freedom."

Heatblast lowered his smoking hands. "Yeah, like I haven’t heard that before."

The silhouette's colorless eyes shifted toward Wendy. “The prison is failing. Eventually, someone will open what you could not."

Wendy's arms dropped, but she remained standing. "Then we'll make sure they know what you really are."

The demonic mouth smiled. “And when they decide that freedom is worth the risk?"

The golems pressed their hands against the gate.

Blue runes blazed across its surface, and the remaining gap slammed shut. Azazel's silhouette vanished behind solid stone as the reinforced seal flooded the chamber with enough light to force everyone to shield their eyes.

The brilliance slowly faded and only a thin silver line remained between the doors.

The golems stood motionless for several seconds, their glowing eyes fixed upon the restored barrier. Once the last of the silver light disappeared between the doors, they turned and marched toward the entrance without another word.

One by one, the ancient guardians passed beneath the broken arch and returned to the mountain path outside. Their feet settled into the same deep impressions they had occupied for centuries, and the blue light faded from the cracks in their weathered bodies until they resembled lifeless statues once more.

Silence settled over the ruins.

Wendy's Spinning Maelstrom finally collapsed. The last currents scattered the lingering smoke before her knees gave way beneath her.

Carla caught her immediately. "That is quite enough heroism for one night."

Heatblast crossed the chamber as the flames around his head returned to their normal orange-yellow color. He crouched beside Wendy, studying her burned palm and exhausted face.

"You okay?"

Wendy leaned forward, breathing heavily. Her gaze drifted toward the sealed gate, where the faint silver line continued pulsing in the darkness.

"We stopped him," she whispered.

Heatblast looked toward the gate as well. "Yeah. For now."

…

A short while later, Wendy sat with her back against a fallen section of pillar while Carla finished wrapping a clean strip of cloth around her injured right palm. The Light Lacrima rested beside them, filling the chamber with a muted yellow glow.

"Too tight?" Carla asked as she secured the bandage around Wendy's wrist.

Wendy carefully flexed her fingers. The movement still sent a sting through her palm and up her forearm, but the pain had dulled to something manageable. "No. It feels better."

Carla narrowed her eyes. "That answer had better be truthful."

"It is," the bluenette promised, offering her a tired smile.

Ben knelt beside them, repacking the small collection of medical supplies they had brought from Sun Village. He had already cleaned and covered the graze across Wendy's left shoulder and applied salve to the light burn along her cheek, but his gaze kept returning to the bandaged hand Azazel had used to drain her magic.

"Any dizziness?" he asked.

"A little."

"Then you're officially done using magic tonight."

Wendy lowered her eyes. "I know."

Carla tied the final knot and gently patted the back of Wendy's hand. "I am glad one of you understands that."

Ben's attention then shifted toward the chamber walls. The battle had cleared centuries of dust from several sections of stone, exposing rows of inscriptions that had previously been hidden beneath grime and fallen debris. Symbols covered the pillars, the floor surrounding the gate, and even the broken lintel above the entrance. Some were angular and deeply carved, while others flowed across the stone in long, elegant lines resembling feathers caught in a current.

Ben's brow furrowed. "I noticed those earlier."

Carla followed his gaze. "A shame we can't read them."

"Actually," Ben raised the Omnitrix and began cycling through the available transformations. "I know someone who might."

Wendy looked up curiously as Ben selected an head icon and pressed the dial. Emerald light flooded the chamber.

When the flash faded, a tiny figure landed atop the rubble.

He stood only six inches tall, a gray-skinned, frog-like biped with a slightly elongated neck and large green eyes. Horizontal eyelids framed his rectangular pupils, giving his small face an unusually focused expression. A fitted green jumpsuit covered his slender body, accompanied by a black collar and belt. Black fingerless gloves enclosed his four-fingered hands, each bearing a green rectangle across the back, while the Omnitrix badge rested on his upper back between his shoulders.

(A/N: Credit to SalvaShark)

"Grey Matter!” he announced in a higher, more precise voice.

Carla stared down at him. "You're smaller."

Grey Matter placed both hands on his hips. "An astonishingly perceptive observation."

Her eyes narrowed. "…And more condescending."

"That is merely the unavoidable result of possessing a vastly superior intellect."

Carla's eyes narrowed. "I think I like your human form better."

Grey Matter ignored her and bounded from the rubble onto the wall. Just like a frog, microscopic pads along his fingers and toes adhered to the stone, allowing him to climb vertically toward the nearest row of inscriptions.

"Carla, raise the Lacrima approximately three feet," he instructed. "The current angle is producing excessive shadow across the lower symbols."

The white feline picked up the glowing crystal and flew higher. "You could say please."

"I could, but that would waste valuable time."

Carla's whiskers twitched. "You find new ways to become more annoying."

Wendy covered a faint laugh with her uninjured hand. Grey Matter glanced down at her before returning to the inscriptions, though the corners of his narrow mouth pulled upward.

He moved across the wall in quick, precise jumps, stopping every few feet to inspect another section. His large pupils narrowed into thin rectangles as they passed over the ancient markings.

"This is not a single written language," Grey Matter murmured. "It combines an archaic human dialect with magical notation and a secondary symbolic system indicating spatial relationships."

Wendy tilted her head, bewildered. "Spatial relationships?"

"The symbols do not merely describe what happened here. Some record how the structure functions." Grey Matter pressed one hand against a circular carving, tracing the lines extending toward the gate. "Coordinates, dimensional partitions, containment levels, transfer restrictions."

Carla looked toward the enormous, sealed doors. "Then…this was never a temple."

"No." The Galvan leapt down to the next line of text. "The winged imagery was likely mistaken for religious decoration after the original purpose was forgotten."

He studied another carving, then corrected himself. "Not a temple. Not a fortress either."

Wendy's fingers curled against the hem of her dress. "What was it?"

Grey Matter turned his head toward the gate. "A transdimensional containment facility."

Carla and Wendy stared at him, completely lost.

"A prison," he clarified.

The word settled heavily into the chamber.

Wendy looked toward the spot where Azazel's silhouette had disappeared. "So he was telling the truth about that."

"Partially," Grey Matter replied. "Azazel was extremely careful to provide true statements while withholding the context that would have changed how we understood them."

He descended toward the base of the wall, where the carvings had suffered greater damage. Whole sections had been burned away, and several lines ended abruptly in jagged fractures.

Grey Matter brushed dust from the surviving symbols. "This portion describes the beings imprisoned beyond the gate. The closest translation would be 'those who descended clothed in light.'"

"Angels," Wendy whispered.

"Presumably." Grey Matter followed the next line with one finger. "They appear to be energy-based lifeforms capable of creating physical avatars. The forms we fought were likely incomplete projections, sustained through magic drawn from the prison and whatever living sources they could access."

Wendy looked down at her bandaged palm.

Grey Matter noticed but continued without placing unnecessary emphasis on it. "According to these accounts, the Angels entered the human world and presented themselves as divine beings. Some provided knowledge, performed miracles, or protected settlements."

"That sounds like what Azazel told us," Wendy said.

"It is." The frog-like alien moved to the next damaged line. "However, the relationship apparently changed."

Carla hovered closer with the Lacrima. "Changed how?"

Grey Matter's expression hardened as he translated. "They began demanding offerings. First magic, then life force, and eventually living sacrifices. The inscription claims they consumed the Ethernano carried within human bodies to strengthen their physical manifestations."

Wendy's face paled. "They ate people's magic?"

"More than their magic." Grey Matter glanced toward her. "If the translation is accurate, prolonged feeding would drain the energy necessary to sustain life."

Carla's grip tightened around the Lacrima. "Exactly what Azazel began doing to Wendy."

"Yes."

Grey Matter moved across another row of symbols, speaking more rapidly as the language became easier to interpret. "Several human kingdoms united against them. The conflict lasted long enough that references to entire bloodlines appear between its beginning and conclusion."

He pointed toward a series of circles carved around a pair of chained wings. "The prison was divided into isolated dimensional regions. Each gate connected to only one portion, preventing a single breach from releasing the entire imprisoned population."

Wendy stared at the sealed doors. "So Azazel wasn't the only Angel trapped beyond this gate."

"Definitely not." Grey Matter's eyes narrowed at another fragment. "Though whether the others remain active, conscious, or even alive in the conventional sense is impossible to determine from these records."

Carla looked toward the motionless golems outside the chamber. "And the guardians?"

"Automated wardens." Grey Matter gestured toward the runic circle Wendy had accidentally activated. "The symbol struck by Azazel's attack was an emergency trigger. The golems were designed to detect Angelic energy beyond the permitted threshold and reinforce the seal."

The tiny alien form climbed onto a ledge and sat back on his heels. His gaze passed over the damaged warnings surrounding the gate, taking in what remained and what had been deliberately destroyed.

"There are repeated cautions against listening to the prisoners," he said. "Warnings about beautiful faces, gifts of knowledge, promises of protection, and truths spoken with deceptive intent."

Wendy's shoulders drew inward.

One surviving line ran beside an image of a winged figure holding its hands over a kneeling human. Grey Matter translated it more slowly than the others.

"'Do not mistake the kindness of the mask for the nature beneath it.'"

Carla's ears flattened as she remembered Azazel drawing the silver braid away from his hidden face. "That warning was remarkably literal."

Grey Matter nodded. "Possibly because others used the same method of manipulation."

Wendy remained quiet for several moments. Her gaze moved across the carvings of winged creatures, bound circles, and human figures fleeing beneath rays of light.

"Were all Angels like him?"

Grey Matter looked down at her.

"All of them?" Wendy clarified. "Were they all evil?"

He remained silent long enough that Carla glanced toward him, perhaps expecting the Galvan intellect to offer an immediate answer.

"I do not know," Grey Matter said at last.

Wendy blinked at the admission.

"These writings were created by the human survivors of a devastating conflict," he continued. "They had ample reason to fear the beings they imprisoned. Their warnings may be entirely accurate concerning the specific Angels they encountered."

He placed one hand against a damaged image showing several winged figures engulfed by chains. "But these are containment records, battlefield histories, and warnings left for future generations. They are not an impartial study of an entire species."

Carla lowered herself until she hovered closer to his level. "Meaning the humans may have condemned innocent Angels alongside the dangerous ones."

"It is possible." Grey Matter glanced toward her. "Fear is an effective survival mechanism, but it is a poor tool for classification. Once a population becomes an enemy, individuals are easily reduced to a single term."

His large green eyes returned to the inscription.

"Monster."

Wendy thought of the Map Maker, imprisoned for centuries because the Forever Knights had believed his appearance proved his nature. She then remembered Azazel smiling gently as the stone tore magic from her body.

"How can we tell the difference?" she asked.

Grey Matter climbed down the wall and hopped onto the rubble beside her knee. "By judging the available evidence rather than the category assigned to someone."

He pressed a hand against the Omnitrix emblem on his back. A flash of green restored Ben to his human form. Ben straightened and looked toward the sealed gate.

"Azazel is dangerous because he lied to us, manipulated you, drained your magic, and tried to free whatever was locked behind that door. Not because he has wings or calls himself an Angel."

Wendy raised her eyes to him.

"What he is explains what he can do," Ben continued, his voice quieter now. "What he chose to do tells us who he is."

Carla nodded slowly. "A useful distinction."

Despite everything, a faint smile crossed Wendy's face.

Ben walked to the entrance. "We should probably tell someone about this place. Roubaul, the Magic Council, whoever handles ancient prisons full of life-draining Angel monsters."

"The Council should be informed," Carla agreed. "Although their competence is often questionable."

"Great. So government works the same here too."

Ben took the Light Lacrima from Carla. "For now, we're leaving before another evil face comes out of the wall."

No one argued.

They passed beneath the broken archway together. The four golems remained silent along the path, their broad stone bodies once again covered in darkness and moss.

Ben walked slowly enough that Wendy did not have to strain to keep pace. Carla hovered beside her injured arm, close enough to catch her at the slightest stumble.

They had nearly reached the first bend in the mountain trail when Wendy finally spoke.

"Ben?"

He glanced toward her as they walked. "Yeah?"

Wendy kept her eyes on the uneven path beneath her feet. "I'm sorry."

Ben's expression softened, but he remained quiet and allowed her to continue. Carla's ears turned toward Wendy from where she flew beside them.

"I know I already said that inside," she continued. "But then I was apologizing because you were right about Azazel. That isn't the only thing I did wrong."

She carefully clasped her bandaged hand against her chest. "I left without telling either of you. I knew you wanted me to wait, but I decided that what I believed mattered more. I broke your trust."

The wind passed quietly through the mountain grass. Ben stopped walking, and Wendy did the same, though she still could not bring herself to meet his eyes.

"I understand if you're angry."

"I am a little angry," Ben admitted.

Her shoulders tightened, but his tone remained gentle. "Mostly, I was scared. When we found the tent empty, I had no idea where you were or whether we'd reach you before something happened."

Wendy swallowed against the guilt tightening her throat. "I'm sorry."

"I know." He looked toward the distant mountains for a moment, choosing his next words carefully. "But an apology isn't a magic reset button. It doesn't make the part where you disappeared stop happening."

"I know that too."

"Good." A faint, rueful smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Because Grandpa Max had to teach me that lesson when I was a kid."

Wendy finally raised her eyes. "You broke his trust?"

Carla released a quiet scoff. "I am astonished."

Ben pointed at her. "I'm sharing a serious personal story here."

"That does not make it surprising," the feline replied.

Ben gave her a flat look before returning his attention to Wendy. "Remember when I told you Grandpa took Gwen and me on a cross-country road trip when I was ten?"

When Wendy nodded, he continued. "One of our stops was New York City. It's a huge city in my world, and there was this brand-new Sumo Slammers game I really wanted to play. The problem was, it was inside a part of the hotel we weren't allowed into."

Wendy tilted her head. "Sumo Slammers?"

"Extremely important cultural entertainment," Ben explained with complete seriousness. "Basically, really huge guys hit each other until somebody falls over."

Carla stared at him. "So, wrestling."

"Completely different costumes."

A faint smile crossed Wendy's face, and Ben continued. "Grandpa Max told me not to sneak inside. I promised I wouldn't, then turned into an alien and did it almost immediately anyway."

He rubbed the back of his neck as the old embarrassment returned. "I ended up getting all three of us thrown out of the hotel."

Wendy blinked. "You broke your promise over a game?"

"Yep. Then, when Grandpa punished me, I told him he wasn't my dad and couldn't tell me what to do." Ben's expression tightened. "After that, I stormed off by myself."

Carla's brow furrowed. "At ten years old?"

"Not one of my smarter moments."

"You possess a troubling number of those."

Ben ignored her. "I met Kevin at an arcade after I ran off. He had superpowers like me, no family around, and a major problem with rules. At the time, I thought that made him cool."

Wendy listened more closely. She had heard Kevin's name before, though Ben had never explained how they first met.

"We broke into a warehouse to steal the game," Ben admitted. "I used the Omnitrix to escape the police, told Kevin my secret, and kept following him even though Gwen and Grandpa were trying to find me."

Wendy's eyes widened. "You stole something?"

"Technically, we never made it out with the game."

Carla's expression flattened. "That does not improve the story."

"I know." Ben sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Eventually, Kevin decided he wanted to crash a train carrying money into a passenger train so he could rob it. Hundreds of people would've died."

"That's awful!" Wendy's face paled. "What did you do?"

"Stopped him, obviously." Ben's expression became more serious. "Kevin could absorb energy, including power from my transformations. He absorbed some of Heatblast's abilities, we fought, and I managed to switch the tracks before the trains collided. Grandpa still helped me afterward, even after everything I'd said and done."

Ben looked down at the trail. "The next morning, I apologized. Grandpa told me he accepted it, but earning back his trust would take more than saying I was sorry."

Wendy absorbed that quietly. "How did you earn it back?"

"By proving I'd actually learned something." Ben gave a small shrug. "I listened more. Thought before running off. At least sometimes."

Carla crossed her arms as she hovered. "The improvement appears to have been limited."

"Trust is a long-term project."

He turned back to Wendy. "Your reasons were better than mine. I snuck away because I was angry, selfish, and wanted a dumb video game. You went back because you genuinely believed someone needed help."

Wendy lowered her gaze again. "But I still screwed up. People could’ve gotten hurt if Azazel and the other Angels escaped."

"Right." Ben's voice remained gentle, but he did not soften the truth. "Good intentions matter, but they don't automatically make a decision safe. Azazel knew how badly you wanted to help someone, and he used that against you."

Wendy's fingers traced the edge of the bandage around her palm.

"You're kind. Don't lose that because one creep took advantage of it. You just need more experience figuring out who deserves your trust and who's trying to use it."

"And until then?" Wendy asked.

"Until then, no investigating ancient magical prisons alone."

Carla lifted one paw. "I strongly support this rule."

Ben raised another finger. "And when someone you trust asks you to wait, you don't have to blindly agree. You can question them, argue with them, or tell them their plan is terrible."

Carla glanced toward him. "We are particularly experienced with the final option."

"But you don't disappear," he continued. "Trust doesn't mean doing everything I say. It means giving me and Carla the chance to help you notice something you might have missed."

Wendy nodded slowly. "I understand."

"You sure?"

"Yes." She met his gaze this time, remorse still visible in her eyes but no longer forcing them downward. "I'll do better. And I won't leave either of you like that again."

Ben studied her for another moment before nodding. "Okay."

Carla landed gently on Wendy's shoulder and pressed her cheek against the girl's blue hair. "See that you do not, child. I have no desire to experience that terror a second time."

Wendy lifted her uninjured hand and rested it over Carla's paw. "I promise."

They resumed walking, the tension between them easing with every step. After a few minutes, Wendy glanced toward Ben again.

"Does this mean we have to stop training?"

Ben raised an eyebrow. "Why would it?"

"Because I broke the rules."

"Those were training rules, not 'never make a mistake again' rules." Ben tucked one hand into his pocket. "We can keep training while we travel."

Wendy's face brightened. "Really?"

"Really. But we're taking it slowly." He pointed toward her bandaged hand. "No serious magic until that heals, and no pushing until you collapse."

"I completely support that portion of the agreement," Carla said immediately.

Ben looked at her. "Only that portion?"

"I am reserving judgment on the rest."

Wendy smiled as they continued along the moonlit trail. Her steps began to slow before they reached the plateau where their campsite was. Ben noticed her stifle a yawn, then stumble slightly when her sandal caught against a loose stone.

He caught her elbow before Carla could dive from her shoulder. "Okay. New plan."

Wendy steadied herself. "I'm fine."

Ben gave her a look.

She sighed. "I'm tired."

"Much better answer." He released her once she regained her balance. "I think we need a break."

"From traveling?"

"From forests, mountains, deserts, dark guilds, ancient prisons, evil Angels, and anything else that's potentially dangerous."

Carla's expression became suspicious. "What exactly are you proposing?"

Ben smiled. "The beach."

Wendy blinked. "The beach?"

"Yeah. Sand, waves, sunlight, swimming." He spread both hands as though presenting paradise. "Very low chance of possessed ruins."

Wendy had stopped walking entirely. "Wait, you mean the ocean?"

"Last time I checked."

Her tiredness vanished beneath sudden excitement. "I've never seen the ocean before!"

Ben's brows rose. "Seriously?"

Wendy nodded quickly, her long blue hair swaying around her shoulders. "Grandeeney told me about it, and I've read about it in books, but I've never actually been there. Is it really so big that you can't see the other side?"

"Usually." Ben grinned at her expression. "And the water tastes terrible. Wouldn't recommend it."

Carla looked offended. "Why would she taste it?"

"Everybody does it once."

"I will ensure she does not."

Wendy clasped both hands together before pain from the bandaged one made her wince. She quickly lowered it, but her smile remained. "Can we really go?"

"Sure. Beach vacation officially starts tomorrow morning."

"After she has slept for the entire night," Carla added.

"Obviously."

"And eaten breakfast."

"Also obviously."

Carla narrowed her eyes. "And no training before we leave."

Ben hesitated. "Define training."

"No."

"Fine."

Wendy laughed softly, excitement carrying her through the last stretch toward the plateau. The campfire had nearly gone out in their absence, but the tent remained standing beneath the stars, waiting for them.

Carla looked toward Ben as they approached it. "Which direction is the ocean?"

Ben stopped.

Wendy looked between them. "You do know, don't you?"

He turned slowly toward the distant horizon. "If we fly far enough in one direction, we'll reach water eventually."

Carla stared at him in silence.

Ben lifted both hands. "That's geography."

"That is a terrible way to navigate." She pressed a paw against her forehead. "We will acquire a map before allowing you to choose a direction."

"Fine. Fair enough."

Wendy giggled as she ducked inside the tent. "Good night, Ben."

"Night, Wendy."

Carla followed her through the flap.

Ben remained outside for a moment, looking from the dark mountain ruin toward the open horizon beyond the plateau.

He then glanced at the Omnitrix and smiled. "Beach day," he murmured. "What could possibly go wrong?"

…

A/N: Hope you fine readers enjoyed this chapter.

Shout out to Masamune X23 for his help in editing, beta-reading, and consulting through the writing process. And major credit to BálintM for his ideas for this chapter's skeleton. Azazel was an OC that he created.

After what happened in the last two chapters, I felt this one needed to take a different route with Wendy wanting to train and become more efficient with her magic; especially after her battle with Gordon and passing out from using Milky Way. This chapter provided the opportunity to do that while introducing a new threat in the Fairy Tail world with the Angels, which were barely touched upon in the original source material.

The next chapter will feature the trio heading to the ocean, encountering a Mermaid-themed guild, and dealing with a sea monster. Should be exciting!

Special shoutouts for my Goin’ Ultimate members.

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