Bheem just stared at the device, now fused to his wrist, its faint green glow making his skin look weird in the dim light. He twisted his hand, tried to pull at the dark band, but it clung to him like it was part of his own bone. A soft, persistent hum vibrated from it, those crazy alien shapes still swirling across its face, a parade of bewildering forms. His mind, usually sharp and focused, was a total blur. What even is this thing? How'd it get on me? And those pictures…
He remembered pressing the button on the side, the one that made the holograms pop up. Maybe if he pressed it again, it would just… go away. Or show him something he actually understood. Taking a shaky breath, Bheem reached his right hand over, his thumb settling onto the prominent, glowing green dial on the watch's face.
Then, the world just erupted.
A blinding flash of emerald green light exploded from the Omnitrix, so intense Bheem instinctively slammed his eyes shut. A deep, guttural roar, raw and utterly alien, ripped through the silent forest, making the very leaves on the trees shiver. His body lurched, every single muscle inflating, stretching, hardening all at once. His bones groaned, his skin felt impossibly tight, and a dizzying rush flooded his head as his vision swam with violent green. The familiar feel of his orange dhoti vanished, replaced by something rougher, tighter, tearing around limbs that were suddenly too many, and too massive.
When the blinding light finally faded and Bheem forced his eyes open, a monstrous, guttural gasp tore from his throat. This wasn't him anymore. His skin was a shocking, vibrant red, rippling with corded muscle. Below his chest, two more powerful, fully formed arms had burst forth, each as thick as his own thighs, ending in three-fingered hands with sharp black claws. His face, catching a distorted reflection in a small puddle churned by his new weight, was alien and fierce, with a heavy brow and a snarling jawline. He was easily twice his previous size, a hulking figure of raw, untamed power. A low growl, deep and resonant, rumbled in his chest – completely foreign to him, yet undeniably his.
He tried to stand straight, but his new, immense weight and wildly altered center of gravity threw him off. He stumbled, one of his new, unfamiliar lower arms swinging wildly, accidentally connecting with the solid trunk of a nearby sal tree. There was a sickening crack, not from his hand, but from the tree itself. The thick trunk splintered, groaned, and then with a slow, agonizing creak, the ancient tree began to topple, crashing to the forest floor with a thunderous roar that shook the very ground.
Bheem, now Four Arms, just stared at the destruction he'd unwittingly caused, his four massive hands clenching and unclenching, utterly bewildered. Fear, sharp and cold, pierced through the shock. What had he done? What was he? The realization hit him with the force of a physical blow: he wasn't Bheem. He was... something else. And he had just destroyed a whole tree without even trying.
The thunderous crash of the falling tree, far louder than the meteor's initial impact, echoed through the quiet night. In Dholakpur, where many villagers had just started to drift off after the sky show, this new, violent sound jolted them wide awake. A few brave, or perhaps foolish, souls who had lingered outside saw the sudden, blinding green flash and heard the monstrous roar that followed the tree's collapse. Their faces drained of color. This wasn't just a falling meteor; this was something alive, something powerful, and something terrifying, deep in their familiar, peaceful forest.
Bheem, still reeling from the transformation and the accidental destruction, tried to move, to figure out his new limbs. But even a simple step felt clumsy, unwieldy. He felt a strange, building pressure within the Omnitrix, that familiar whirring sound from the device growing faster, more agitated. The green glow on its face pulsed erratically, fading and brightening, as if it was struggling to contain the immense power it had just let loose. A high-pitched beeping started, quick and insistent, growing louder with each passing second – a warning he didn't understand, but instinctively knew was urgent. He looked down at the wristwatch, a knot of growing panic mixing with his utter confusion. The dial was spinning, the holographic images now cycling wildly, impossibly fast.
Then, with one final, urgent BEEP!, the Omnitrix's vibrant green glow died, replaced by a dull, steady red. And just like that, the strange, overwhelming sensation of immense power and stretched muscles vanished as abruptly as it had arrived. In another blinding flash, less violent this time, Bheem felt his body rapidly shrink, reshape, and revert. The heavy, tearing alien skin dissolved, replaced by the familiar cool touch of the night air on his own skin. He stumbled forward, suddenly light and unbalanced, landing awkwardly on his hands and knees.
He gasped, gulping in the familiar forest air, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He looked at his hands, then at his legs. They were his own. Small, human, exactly as they should be. The red, scaly skin was gone. He looked down at his left wrist. The Omnitrix was still there, but its face was no longer glowing green. It was a dull, ominous red, and silent. He felt completely drained, exhausted, as if he had just wrestled a wild bull for hours. The familiar world had returned, but the memory of being something else, of the terrifying power that had erupted from him, was chillingly real.
Suddenly, a rustle in the undergrowth snapped him back to attention. Two figures, their faces pale with raw fear, burst into the clearing. It was Raju, Bheem's closest friend, always a step behind him in every adventure, quick-witted and brave for his age. Beside him was Chutki, gentle and kind, the unspoken heart of their little group, always the first to worry for Bheem. Their eyes, wide with fright, swept across the fallen tree, the smoking crater, and then, slowly, landed on Bheem. They saw him, disheveled and shaken, in the center of the devastation, the strange, now-red device on his wrist. But their gaze wasn't fixed on the watch, or even the fallen tree. It was on him. The fear in their eyes wasn't for the general unknown anymore; it was for the boy they knew, who now seemed so different, so altered, standing in the aftermath of such monstrous power. A silent, palpable chasm opened between them. Bheem looked from their terrified faces to the dormant alien tech on his wrist, a question burning in his chest: What just happened to me? And what am I now? He knew one thing for sure: his life, and Dholakpur's, would never, ever be the same.