In theory, when the Omnitrix extracted genetic material from any species, it automatically optimized those genes to their absolute peak—creating the healthiest, most capable version possible. While "healthiest" didn't always translate to "strongest," the optimization process typically produced impressive results.
This was why Ben's Four Arms transformation had been able to overpower Looma despite male Tetramand normally being weaker than females. The Omnitrix had simply perfected what evolution had given that species.
BOOM!
The silver-skinned Shadow People warrior was launched backward by Caiera's devastating kick, his body embedding so deeply into the rock face that it left a perfect human-shaped impression.
"That's strange," Ben muttered as he extracted himself from the stone wall, looking genuinely puzzled. "How can there be such a massive difference in our capabilities?"
"Hey, Caiera," he called out, brushing rock dust from his black and white uniform. "Why can't I generate that blue energy like you do?"
Even if certain abilities were gender-specific among the Shadow People, the Omnitrix should have been able to replicate them in his transformed state.
"You mean the Old Power?" Caiera asked, her stance shifting to something less aggressive as she considered the implications of his question.
If Ben truly was the prophesied Son of Sakaar, then perhaps she should be teaching him rather than fighting him.
"It's not something the Shadow People is born with," she explained, blue energy crackling around her fingertips like contained lightning. "The Old Power isn't natural—it must be acquired through training and dedication."
Ben's understanding clicked into place immediately. The Old Power was essentially like the internal energy techniques used by martial artists—a learned skill rather than an innate ability. Even if the Omnitrix could transform him into a perfect Shadow People physique, it couldn't replicate decades of disciplined practice.
"Since it's a trainable technique, I should be able to learn it too!" Ben said with characteristic optimism.
Caiera almost smiled at his naivety. "Impossible. I'm the most naturally gifted Shadow People warrior of my generation. Even with that advantage, it took me years to develop the Old Power to this level. You've never even been exposed to the energy before—awakening it isn't something that happens overnight."
As she spoke, she launched herself forward like a missile, her long leg whipping toward Ben's chest with enough force to shatter steel.
Ben bent backward desperately, the kick missing him by inches but striking the boulder behind him instead. The massive rock exploded under the impact, sending fragments flying like shrapnel that carved through nearby stone formations.
Ben's enhanced reflexes and his integrated spider sense screamed a warning as he looked up to see Caiera raising her right leg high overhead. Without time to think, he threw himself sideways as her heel descended like an executioner's axe.
BOOM!!
Though the attack missed him directly, the shockwave from its impact sent Ben tumbling across the battlefield. The ground beneath Caiera's foot cracked and split, creating a spider web of fissures that extended for dozens of yards.
This Shadow People form is definitely capable, Ben thought grimly as he regained his footing, but I'm completely outclassed in terms of raw power.
"You should transform back into that green crystal warrior, or the four-armed form," Caiera suggested, her tone almost motherly despite the violence of their exchange. "This current form will get you killed."
"I told you," Ben replied, shaking his head stubbornly, "fight fire with fire."
The truth was, he remained fascinated by the Old Power. While any species could theoretically learn to manipulate this cosmic energy, members of the Shadow People—who had originally discovered and refined the techniques—would naturally have the greatest aptitude for it.
But mastering such power was clearly no simple task. Caiera's talent was already legendary among her people, carefully selected by the Red King. Even if Ben's optimized genetics gave him a slight edge in potential, there was no way to compensate for her decades of training in a matter of minutes.
Caiera attacked again, her entire body wreathed in crackling energy. Both of her eyes blazed with white-hot power as streams of blue lightning flowed between her arms like godly ribbons.
She threw a punch so fast that the air itself detonated, creating a sonic boom that shattered windows in the distant village.
BOOM!
Ben dodged frantically, looking more like a stray dog fleeing a predator than a legendary warrior. Anyone watching the battle couldn't help but feel anxious for him.
In the arena's underground passages, Korg voiced what everyone was thinking as he ran alongside the other escaped gladiators.
"Why doesn't our friend transform into his four-armed form?" he panted, his rocky features creased with worry. "We've all seen what he can do with that body!"
Anyone who had witnessed Ben's battle with Looma would never forget the raw power he'd displayed—like some ancient monster had been unleashed upon the world.
Beta Ray Bill reached out and switched off the portable viewing device they'd been carrying, cutting off the broadcast feed. His features were set in grim determination as he addressed the group.
"He must have his reasons," Bill said coldly. "Our job is to focus on our mission, not second-guess his tactics."
"But I'm still worried about him..." Korg began.
"Don't be," Hiroim interrupted with fierce conviction. "The Son of Sakaar will not lose to a Shadow People traitor!"
"Even with the reduced guard presence, the Totem Tower still has royal guards protecting it," another gladiator pointed out. "How are we supposed to reach the summit?"
"The Red Wind Queen will draw their attention," Bill replied with absolute confidence.
As if summoned by his words, an enraged roar echoed through multiple floors of the structure above them.
"ANGMO-ASAN!"
It was unmistakably Looma's voice, filled with righteous fury that could be heard throughout the entire tower complex.
Right on schedule, Looma burst through several reinforced walls like they were made of paper, wielding what appeared to be a massive two-handed warhammer that she carried as easily as a normal person might hold a baseball bat.
"How dare you, you despicable coward!" she roared, her four eyes blazing with manufactured rage. "How dare you resort to such underhanded tactics!"
"I have no idea what you're referring to, Looma," the Red King replied with studied calm.
He'd been expecting this confrontation ever since deploying Caiera against Ben. That's why he'd donned his armor early and surrounded himself with the royal guard—he knew Looma's warrior pride would demand immediate satisfaction.
"You ordered Caiera to ambush Ben!" Looma accused, her voice echoing through the throne room.
"I must point out that he attacked my Death's Head Warguards first," the Red King replied with a cold smile.
Technically, this was true—after defeating the Great Maw's guardian, Ben had indeed taken the initiative against the waiting soldiers. But everyone knew it was a semantic dodge.
"What a joke!" Looma snarled. "If you hadn't planned something treacherous, why would the Death's Head Warguards be in that location at all?"
She raised her warhammer menacingly. "Recall your forces immediately, or I'll crush your skull like an eggshell!"
The Red King suddenly stood from his throne, driving his massive blade into the floor with enough force to send sparks flying across the chamber. His eyes burned with megalomaniacal fury.
"Looma, I don't care what planet you ruled before, but here you are nothing!" he declared. "Everything you have was granted by my generosity! I am the only true king of Sakaar!"
"Not for much longer!" Looma shot back.
She rushed forward, raising her hammer high with all four arms, her body coiling backward like a loaded spring. The massive weapon descended with devastating force.
CRASH!
The ornate throne exploded into fragments, sending chunks of precious metal and carved stone flying in every direction.
Immediately, the royal guards surrounding the Red King moved to protect their ruler. They wielded golden spears with crystalline tips, their coordinated attack patterns the result of years of training together.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Sparks flew as Looma parried multiple strikes simultaneously. These guards were far fewer in number than the Death's Head Warguards, but their equipment and training were superior in every way.
Dozens of elite warriors swarmed Looma, and for a moment she found herself genuinely pressed. She caught one spear thrust with her bare hand, leaped into the air, and swept her right arm in a wide arc that caught another guard across the throat, sending him flying into the wall.
But even as she struck down one opponent, dozens more attacked from her blind spots.
Seeing the tactical situation deteriorating, Looma made a characteristically direct decision. She drove her warhammer into the floor with earth-shaking force, collapsing multiple levels beneath their feet.
"Come down with me!" she roared as the entire chamber gave way.
CRASH!
The floor disintegrated, sending royal guards, the Red King, and Looma herself plummeting through multiple stories. But the Red King's enhanced armor gave him tremendous mobility—he leaped from one falling piece of debris to another, finally driving his blade toward Looma while she was unable to maneuver in midair.
Clang!
Looma clapped her lower pair of hands together, catching the sword blade between her palms while her upper arms grabbed the weapon's hilt. Then her powerful legs lashed out toward the Red King's midsection.
CLANG!
The kick was powerful enough to pulverize granite, but it barely left a scratch on the Red King's advanced armor. Looma's eyes widened in surprise—her previous encounter with him had suggested his defenses were much weaker.
Both combatants hit the ground simultaneously, and the Red King realized they had fallen all the way from his throne room into the main arena. The vast amphitheater was empty now, its lights dimmed, waiting for performances that might never come.
The surviving royal guards landed around them in perfect formation, creating a circle of golden spears and advanced weaponry.
Looma glanced around with all four eyes, noting with satisfaction that virtually every defender in the tower complex had been drawn to this location. With the guards occupied here, Bill and the other gladiators would have a clear path to their objective.
"Angmo-Asan," she said with mock admiration, "your turtle shell has gotten much harder."
The Red King wasn't offended by the insult—if anything, he seemed proud of his improved defenses.
"Did you think I wouldn't prepare countermeasures after learning you could tear through my previous armor?" he asked, striking his chest plate to demonstrate its durability. The sound echoed through the empty arena like a bell.
"This special alloy won't be damaged even if you punch it a thousand times!"
"Hmm," Looma replied with studied indifference, though inwardly she was calculating new attack strategies.
"Looma, why oppose me for the sake of someone who's about to die?" the Red King continued, his voice taking on an almost pleading tone. "I am the emperor of Sakaar. Submit to me, and you can become the true queen of this world. 'Red Wind Queen' would be more than just a title."
"Ridiculous," Looma snorted. "I am already a true queen, while you're nothing but a red-skinned pretender. And compared to Ben, you're absolutely pathetic!"