Throughout the entire school day, Ben's mind had operated with remarkable clarity. Complex concepts seemed to arrange themselves into logical patterns rather than chaotic jumbles, and he'd found himself completely absorbed in the learning process, Felicia's silent treatment barely registering on his awareness.
But now that classes were over, more pressing matters demanded his attention.
The moment he stepped through the classroom doorway, Ben nearly collided with Peter, who was rushing out of an adjacent room with equal urgency.
"Ben!" Peter's face lit up with hope. "Have you reconsidered? Ready to come with me to see Dr. Connors?"
He'd clearly assumed that Ben's hurried exit meant he'd changed his mind about the investigation.
"Sorry to disappoint you, Peter, but I told you I'm not interested," Ben replied, adjusting his backpack strap with practiced efficiency.
The truth was more complicated than Peter realized. Ben was absolutely fascinated by Connors's biotechnology—the intersection of genetics and advanced science was precisely the kind of research that could complement the Omnitrix's capabilities. But with his current level of knowledge, attempting to understand cross-species genetic serums would be like trying to read Shakespeare in ancient Sumerian.
Even transformed into Grey Matter, he'd need a foundation of biological understanding that simply wasn't available through inherited Galvan memories. More critically, he couldn't risk exposing himself to Peter or Connors when XLR8 had just been classified as a dangerous entity by Tony Stark.
The appearance of any alien life form—especially one bearing the distinctive Omnitrix symbol—would inevitably draw unwanted scrutiny. Ben needed to be extremely careful about when and where he revealed his abilities.
Besides, he had a more direct path to the information Peter was seeking. Richard Parker's briefcase, hidden away and waiting for the right moment, contained the real breakthrough research in cross-species genetics. Everything Connors was struggling to achieve was already solved in those encrypted files.
"Just remember to pick up Mom this evening," Ben said, his tone carrying the weight of genuine concern.
Peter nodded automatically, then paused with sudden confusion. "Wait—how did you know I promised to pick up Aunt May? You left for school way before me this morning."
Ben waved off the question with deliberate casualness. "Lucky guess. And tell Dad and Mom I'll be home late tonight. I've got... projects to work on."
After a brief farewell, Ben headed toward the school gates, his destination already mapped out in his mind. A quick stop at a nearby convenience store yielded a large container of industrial-strength cleaning solution—the kind designed for serious degreasing work.
With his supplies secured, Ben navigated to a secluded alley that his morning reconnaissance had confirmed was free of surveillance cameras. Time to get to work.
"Alright then," he murmured, rolling up his sleeve to reveal the Omnitrix's familiar interface. "XLR8!"
Meanwhile, in his workshop, Tony Stark sat surrounded by holographic displays and diagnostic equipment, his fingers drumming against his workbench as he contemplated the morning's encounter.
"XLR8," he said aloud, testing the alien designation on his tongue. The name felt foreign, almost mechanical—certainly not something that had evolved naturally on Earth.
"Create a new file, Jarvis. Subject designation: XLR8... no, wait. Call him 'Dino-Boy.' That's what he's getting in my records."
A three-dimensional projection materialized in the air before him, assembled from every sensor reading and visual scan Jarvis had collected during their battle. The level of detail was impressive—even at XLR8's incredible speeds, Stark technology had managed to capture enough data for comprehensive analysis.
"Fascinating anatomy," Jarvis observed, highlighting specific anatomical features. "The subject's feet incorporate what appears to be a biological ball-bearing system. During recorded movement, the feet rotated sixteen times per second at standard velocity—approximately three hundred miles per hour."
The AI isolated a sequence that had been slowed down by a factor of fifty, revealing details invisible to normal perception. Even at this reduced speed, XLR8's movements appeared fluid and controlled.
"Note the secretion of lubricant from specialized glands in the toe structures," Jarvis continued. "This reduces friction during high-velocity locomotion and enables sharp directional changes that would otherwise be impossible."
Tony leaned forward, studying the biomechanical engineering with professional appreciation. "Ball bearings and biological lubricants... that's actually brilliant design. But it also suggests a potential weakness."
His mind immediately began calculating angles and coefficients, applying principles of physics he'd mastered before adolescence. "If his locomotion depends on controlled friction, then altering the surface conditions could severely compromise his mobility."
A slow smile spread across his face as tactical possibilities took shape. "The Mark IV is going to need some new toys. Maybe some foam adhesive dispensers, or specialized lubricants that could make him slip. Turn his greatest strength into a liability."
But even as he planned countermeasures, other questions nagged at him. His gaze shifted to the strange symbol prominently displayed on XLR8's chest—a distinctive hourglass design that clearly wasn't biological in origin.
"What do you make of this emblem, Jarvis? It doesn't look like natural coloration or marking. Almost reminds me of my arc reactor—some kind of technological component integrated into the anatomy."
The comparison was more accurate than Tony realized, though he lacked the context to understand the true significance of the Omnitrix symbol.
"Analyzing possibilities," Tony mused, his engineer's mind racing through scenarios. "What are the odds that our friend here is some kind of enhanced creature? Genetic modification, cybernetic augmentation, that sort of thing?"
"Probability assessment: negligible," Jarvis replied with characteristic precision. "X-ray analysis revealed no foreign implants or surgical modifications. The unusual anatomical features appear to be naturally integrated into the skeletal and muscular systems. All evidence suggests this is the subject's original biological configuration."
"That's impossible!" Tony protested, though he knew Jarvis didn't make mistakes in data analysis. "No species develops human-level intelligence overnight. And he was definitely speaking English—not just mimicry, but actual comprehension and communication."
He stood up, pacing as the implications sank in. "If he's not artificially enhanced, then we're looking at millions of years of parallel evolution. Either that, or..."
"Or he's not from Earth at all," Jarvis finished the thought with typical AI directness.
Tony stopped pacing, the full weight of the conclusion hitting him like a physical blow. "Monitor every camera feed in New York City. I want alerts for any similar creatures, any unusual sightings, anything that doesn't fit normal patterns. Also, run a complete background check on Dennis Carradine—find out why our visitor considered him a threat worth killing."
"Understood, sir. Do you believe we're dealing with multiple entities?"
"Has to be," Tony said grimly, his mind already leaping to worst-case scenarios. "Something this sophisticated doesn't just appear in isolation. If XLR8 really is extraterrestrial, then we could be looking at advance scouts, refugees, invaders—hell, we might be completely outgunned and not even know it yet."
He turned to face the holographic display again, studying the alien physiology with new urgency. "Create another file, Jarvis. Classification level: Priority Alpha."
"And the designation, sir?"
Tony's expression was grim as he contemplated the implications of first contact under such hostile circumstances.
"Alien."