A terrified galvanic engineer stammered, “L-Lord Vilgax, the planetary defense grid of Primus is… rejecting our incursion.”
“Not codes, my lord. Requirements. The system has evolved. It now requires a specific genetic key—a Celestialsapien’s neural signature—to bypass.”
Ben slammed the dial. Not Alien X. Not Humungousaur.
Ben closed his eyes. The Omnitrix dial glowed green.
Ben Tennyson, now sixteen and wearing the black-and-green jacket of the Alien Force, struggled against energy cuffs. Gwen and Kevin were in adjacent cells.