The moment the tactical hologram displayed the rotating blue-green sphere, Vilgax felt an unexpected stillness settle over his thoughts. Earth. A primitive world by galactic standards, technologically stagnant, barely capable of launching satellites into its own orbit. Yet this tiny dot, insignificant on any star map, held something even the greatest empires of the cosmos could not replicate—the Omnitrix. The ultimate weapon. The tool of evolution. The key to universal conquest.
And in his first life, this gem had slipped through his fingers and landed on the wrist of a ten-year-old brat.
Not this time.
With a gesture, the hologram zoomed further, data streams scrolling around it. Intelligence files, cached from years of bounty networks and fragmented Galactic Enforcer records, described Earth as an unstable but peaceful world. Tribal nations, disparate cultures, and a worrying tendency toward recklessness. In canon, this world would create the Plumbers, advanced weapons, and even time manipulators. But that was centuries away. For now, Earth was defenseless.
"The primitive planet has potential strategic value," one of his drones beeped. "Atmosphere suitable for numerous species. Population unaware of extraterrestrial threats."
"Unaware," Vilgax murmured, "and therefore vulnerable."
He turned his back to the drone, moving toward the large observation window overlooking the starfield. Somewhere far behind them Arburian galaxies shimmered with cold light, but his gaze was fixed on the invisible direction of their journey. He didn't have the Omnitrix yet. He didn't have the might to conquer civilizations effortlessly. But he had something far more dangerous—
Knowledge.
"Set course for Sol System," he ordered.
The drones beeped in acknowledgment, and the ship shifted, entering a smooth acceleration that only advanced propulsion could offer. Vilgax didn't even sway. Years of experience in this body, combined with his transmigrated mind, made balancing in zero-grav and thrust shifts natural.
As the stars stretched into streaks, Vilgax allowed himself to reflect on the past seven days of preparation.
He had not wasted a microsecond.
On day one, he secured a prototype dimensional stabilizer harvested from a captured smuggler ship. It wasn't fully functional yet, but once restored, it could create microspaces for emergency storage. That alone could save him from defeat.
On day two, he had reorganized the warship's AI protocols, boosting the computational capacity by 180%. The ship now responded almost instantly to his commands, far superior to the sluggish processors of his canon counterpart.
On day three and four, he ran twenty-eight simulations of the Omnitrix landing trajectory—each based on potential variations of the meteor shower Azmuth engineered. He analyzed gravitational pull, Earth rotation, atmospheric drift, even the last-second chaos created by Ben's Grandpa Max driving across the desert. If all calculations were correct, the Omnitrix would land in the Southwest region of Earth… unless Vilgax accelerated his timeline and intercepted it in space first.
But day five… day five was when the real plan unfolded.
"I will not simply take the Omnitrix," Vilgax whispered. "I will rewrite the future around it."
He had spent an entire day creating a multistage invasion blueprint: Phase One: Stealth reconnaissance. Phase Two: Data extraction. Phase Three: Capture local forces. Phase Four: Isolate the Tennysons. Phase Five: Retrieve Omnitrix. Phase Six: Galaxy-wide suppression.
Every phase accounted for interference—Plumbers, the Galactic Enforcers, even the future arrival of foes like Eon or Malware.
He would be ready for all of them.
On day six and seven, he constructed new armor, enhanced his strength with regenerative combat fluids, and reprogrammed certain weapons to function without mana or energy signatures—perfect for Earth's primitive environment.
Now, with the eighth day beginning, they were close enough to detect Earth's faint electronic broadcast noise. Static-filled radio signals leaked from the planet—music, political broadcasts, military communications, children's cartoons. They reached space like the confused screams of a newborn species trying to learn its first words.
The ship's AI converted these signals into text. Vilgax allowed them to scroll across the screen. The humans were ignorant… but their creativity was staggering. Even now, their networks were filled with fiction about alien invasions, cosmic battles, superpowered beings.
"Curious species," Vilgax muttered.
He respected creativity. It showed potential.
As his warship approached from the outer system, passing Pluto's shadowed orbit, the sensors flared red.
"Unidentified object detected," the AI announced.
Vilgax's eyes narrowed. "Show me."
A hologram projected an irregular shape emitting weak energy pulses. At first glance, it resembled debris. But when he zoomed in, he recognized the fractured metal fragments—the remains of a ship. A crashed Plumber scouting vessel. Probably centuries old.
He floated closer to the hologram. "Extract what remains of its memory core."
The drones zipped forward, retrieving a glowing sphere from the debris. As soon as Vilgax touched it, the ancient core flickered to life, projecting a grainy hologram.
An armored Plumber appeared—face weary, voice desperate.
"If anyone receives this… avoid the planet Earth. Dangerous anomalies present. Unknown DNA combinations detected. Creatures with impossible evolution patterns—"
The recording garbled, skipping.
"Something… keeps rewriting physical laws. We've lost half the crew. Reality bends unnaturally—"
The hologram died.
Vilgax stood silently for several seconds.
He knew exactly what the man referred to.
The Celestialsapiens.
Beings capable of rewriting universes with a thought.
Beings who occasionally manifested on Earth.
So Earth was even more dangerous than the canon storyline suggested.
A grin slowly stretched across Vilgax's face.
"Good," he whispered. "Let the universe tremble. I will tame every anomaly."
He crushed the memory core effortlessly.
Moments later, the ship entered Earth's moon orbit, using the far side for cover. Earth spun beneath them, unaware of the shadow creeping closer.
"Begin surface scanning," Vilgax commanded.
Holograms flickered—mountain ranges, oceans, cities, military bases. Each was mapped layer by layer.
"Locate anomalies."
"Scanning… results: 132 potential alien signatures. 7 ancient sealed artifacts. 1 dormant extradimensional rift. Multiple Plumber caches."
Vilgax drank in the data like a starving beast.
"Show me the Tennysons."
The hologram zoomed across the planet and displayed a white RV moving across a dusty American desert highway. Inside it were Max Tennyson—retired Plumber—and two kids.
The one he sought most… Ben Tennyson, not yet aware of destiny.
Vilgax watched him laughing, bickering with Gwen, completely clueless.
Such a fragile existence. So unworthy of the Omnitrix.
"It won't be yours this time," Vilgax murmured.
Then—an alarm blared.
"Spatial distortion detected in upper atmosphere! Object entering trajectory!"
The Omnitrix.
It was coming.
A fiery streak ripped across the sky, entering Earth's gravitational pull. Azmuth had dropped the Omnitrix into the universe.
But Vilgax had reached the planet first.
His eyes gleamed with cold, ruthless anticipation.
"Prepare interception systems," he growled, each word vibrating through the metal of the warship. "This universe will not begin with a child's luck."
The chase had begun.
And this time, Vilgax would win.