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Chapter 8: Four Arms
🕑 Added 2025-06-04 11:11:41 +0000 UTC"Alright, alright, cut the terrible acting and the ridiculous humblebragging. You two are fooling absolutely no one," Ethan Atherton said, planting his hands on his hips and feigning a stern, all-knowing tone. "Just so you know, I'm already at Level Three. You two can't possibly be worse off than me. So, if you know what's good for you, fess up! Spill the beans!"
Marcus’s jaw practically hit the pavement. "What the heck! Ethan, you're already Level Three! This… this is insane!"
Ethan grinned, enjoying his friend’s shock. "What? You think I couldn't do it? That your old pal Ethan is still a slacker?"
Seraphina, ever the mediator, patted Marcus gently on the back (she had actually intended to deliver a playful smack to his head for his bluntness, but he was simply too tall, and her hand fell short, landing on his shoulder blade instead). "Don't talk such nonsense, Marcus! That's not what he means at all. It’s mainly because when you first awakened, Ethan, um… well, the results were a bit unclear…"
Ethan chuckled, waving away her concern. "Hahaha! Don't worry about it, Seraphina. My ability is just a bit special, that’s all. The necessary conditions weren't quite met at the Awakening Ceremony, so it wasn't fully awakened, or rather, online, until I broke through to Rank One, Level One. And let me tell you, my ability is super strong, you know! Way stronger than anyone guessed."
Marcus let out a hearty, booming laugh, his earlier awkwardness vanishing, replaced by genuine relief and excitement. "Hahahaha! Excellent! That’s fantastic, man! Now I don't have to worry about restraining myself when we’re talking, trying to take care of your delicate feelings! Not anymore! We can talk shop!"
Seraphina sighed dramatically, though a smile played on her lips. "You, Marcus, I really can't stand you sometimes. Say, Ethan, what exactly does your ability, that mysterious watch of yours, actually do? You’ve been so secretive."
Ethan tapped the Omnitrix thoughtfully. "This thing… Well, I remember Marcus's ability is strength-enhancing, a Physical-type, right?"
Hearing this, Marcus proudly puffed out his chest, flexing an imaginary bicep. "That's right! My ability is indeed Physical-type, and its core talent is muscle strengthening and density enhancement. Currently, at my level, it can boost all my physical attributes—raw strength, endurance, and even my jumping power—by a solid three times. Even my overall speed has increased quite a bit as a side effect."
Ethan’s grin widened. "Alright then. Since that's the case, how about we find a suitable place and have a little… spar? A friendly fight. You guys will understand my ability much better then."
Seraphina looked surprised. "Huh? You want to fight him? Right now?"
Ethan shrugged. "Yeah, why not? Any problem with that?"
Seraphina frowned, a concerned look in her eyes. "Ethan, you might not be too clear about the specifics of his ability. I've seen him fight in training. His destructive power is pretty immense, and he's already broken through to Level Four, which, as you know, is past the first major watershed of Rank One. He’s significantly stronger than a Level Three."
Ethan remained unfazed. "No problem at all. My strength isn't bad either, trust me. Besides, when we eventually fight—and you know we will, for fun or for real someday—can I really afford to not use my full strength, or not test it against a strong opponent?"
Seraphina still looked hesitant. "But…"
"It's okay, Seraphina, don't worry so much!" Marcus interrupted her, a wide, eager grin splitting his face. He cracked his knuckles audibly. "Relax, I'll be careful. Wouldn’t want to break my favorite sparring partner on his first day out."
Seraphina sighed, shaking her head at their eagerness. "Alright, fine. My family owns a psionic martial arts gym not too far from here. It’s well-equipped. Let's go there."
Marcus pumped his fist. "Awesome! Let's go, let's go! Loser buys dinner tonight!"
The three of them soon arrived at the impressive "Linley Family Combat & Psionic Training Center." After Seraphina spoke briefly with a staff member at the front desk, they were led to a medium-sized private combat arena. Although it was described as ‘medium,’ the space was still a vast thousand square meters, with reinforced walls and a shock-absorbent floor. Psionic abilities were incredibly diverse and often destructive; a small, ordinary arena truly wouldn't suffice for a proper psionic spar.
Ethan and Marcus stood opposite each other in the center of the arena, a palpable energy buzzing between them. Seraphina positioned herself off to the side, ready to act as the referee.
"Fighters, take your positions!" Seraphina called out, her voice clear and authoritative.
Marcus grinned, then activated his ability. A faint shimmer of psionic energy enveloped him. His body's muscles began to visibly swell and harden, his entire frame growing considerably larger, broader, and more imposing. Interestingly, the clothes he wore seemed to be made of some kind of special, high-tech material with astonishing elasticity, as they stretched to accommodate his increased bulk without ripping or even straining at the seams.
Ethan, meanwhile, also activated the Omnitrix on his wrist, the faceplate popping up. He quickly dialed it to a new alien hero silhouette he had unlocked upon reaching Level Three.
"Battle, begin!" Seraphina declared.
Ethan immediately slammed down on the watch face. A blinding flash of green light. His body began to rapidly grow taller and significantly bulkier. His arms thickened, then split, two more powerful limbs sprouting from his sides. His skin shifted to a vibrant, deep red, and his musculature became extremely exaggerated, like a comic book superhero. The green-and-black Omnitrix symbol was now emblazoned on his upper left bicep. He stood there, a four-armed, crimson powerhouse.
"Four Arms!" Ethan roared, his voice deeper, rougher.
Seeing this incredible transformation, Marcus and Seraphina stared, their eyes as wide as copper bells, their mouths agape enough to comfortably swallow a whole chicken egg.
Marcus finally stammered, "S-so you don't have a simple tool-type ability… it's full-on beastification! Or… alien-ification! What kind of monstrous creature did you even turn into? I've never seen this species before in any bestiary!"
Four Arms flexed his multiple limbs, a grin splitting his wide face. "Cool, right? I call him Four Arms. Catchy, huh?"
Marcus shook his head, a mixture of shock and fighting spirit igniting in his eyes. "A very fitting and undeniably badass name, Ethan, but I won't be scared that easily!" With that, Marcus adopted a solid fighting stance and then charged towards him like a rampaging bull.
Four Arms also charged forward to meet him. The two colossal figures collided with a sound like thunder, pushing against each other, immediately engaging in a brutal contest of pure, unadulterated strength.
You push me, I push you; neither combatant giving an inch, the floor beneath them groaning under the strain.
Marcus grunted, his muscles bulging. "Your strength is pretty great, man, to actually be able to clash with me head-on like this for so long! But alas," a surge of power visibly flowed through him, "I'm ultimately Level Four, past that first watershed!" With that, Marcus exerted even more force, his feet digging into the floor, and he managed to slowly, painstakingly, push Four Arms back a step.
Four Arms grinned, his four eyes glinting. "You are indeed a bit stronger in terms of raw pushing power, I'll give you that. But haven't you ever heard the saying that two fists are often no match for four hands?" Before Marcus could react, Ethan used his two powerful lower arms to deliver a rapid one-two combo of fierce strikes directly to Marcus's now exposed stomach. The impact sounded like someone beating a giant drum, and it was said, anecdotally, that he almost beat last night's dinner clean out of him.
Seizing the momentary opening as Marcus gasped and flinched, Four Arms grabbed Marcus's off-balance body with all four of his powerful hands and, with a mighty heave, fiercely slammed him backward onto the arena floor. Marcus crashed to the ground with a resounding "THUD," shaking the entire platform. From this display, one could clearly see the incredible extent of Ethan's strength as Four Arms, and also Marcus's considerable, now much denser, weight. After slamming him to the ground, Four Arms stood over him, flexing all four of his impressive muscles.
"Who's the strongman now, huh?" Four Arms taunted, his voice rumbling.
Marcus groaned, then pushed himself up, shaking his head to clear it. "Alright, alright, so this is how you wanna play, huh? Bullying me with more hands than is strictly fair? Fine! Since you're so formidable, then I guess I won't hold back either." As he spoke, a bright flash of concentrated psionic light emanated from his right hand. But this, Ethan recognized, was just the prelude, the charging phase, to releasing a powerful skill.
"Taste my—Shattering Fist!" Marcus roared, his right fist, now glowing with an intense, almost painful light and seemingly carrying the force of a thousand pounds, smashed forward towards Four Arms.
With Four Arms' astonishing natural jumping power, Ethan could have completely dodged this telegraphed blow. However, a part of him, the curious, battle-hungry part, really wanted to test just how strong Marcus's signature move truly was, now that he was Level Four. So, he didn't dodge. Instead, he braced himself, crossing all four of his powerful arms in a defensive X-block in front of his chest.
He regretted it instantly.
The moment Marcus's glowing fist connected with his crossed arms, Ethan felt as if he'd been hit head-on by a speeding freight train. An explosion of force ripped through his defense. He was sent flying backward, tumbling through the air like a rag doll, before crashing heavily onto the floor several meters away. He felt like all four of his arms were almost broken, a searing pain shooting through them.
Seeing Ethan fall heavily to the ground, Marcus, panting slightly, flexed his own still-glowing fist. "Heh. Who's the strongman now, Ethan?"
Ethan stumbled to his feet, wincing as he rubbed his aching arms. The Omnitrix symbol on his bicep was blinking red, indicating he was low on transformation energy or had taken significant damage. "Alright, okay, I admit it, you definitely have some skill, Marcus. That packed a serious punch. But if this is all you've got, then it probably ends here for you." As he spoke, Ethan, with a smirk, pressed the Omnitrix symbol on his shoulder. With another brilliant flash of green light, his massive, red, four-armed form dissolved, and in its place, wreathed in familiar, crackling flames, stood Heatblast.
"Heatblast!" Ethan announced, his voice now a chorus of fire.
The two onlookers, Marcus and Seraphina, were even more astonished by this sudden, mid-battle transformation than they had been by the first. Their jaws, which had just returned to their normal positions, dropped open again.
Marcus’s eyes were practically popping out of his head. "Holy crap! You can actually turn into two different things?! Are you some kind of system hacker?! Is that even legal?!"
Heatblast chuckled, a sound like logs crackling in a hearth. "I never said I could only turn into one, did I?"
Seraphina, ever the analytical one, murmured, more to herself than anyone else, "It looks like it should be the same core ability, the watch, but how can it manifest two completely different elemental and physical effects? How is that even possible under psionic theory?"
Heatblast spread his flaming hands. "Nothing is impossible in this wonderfully weird world, Seraphina. Now, Marcus, take this!" Ethan, as Heatblast, raised both hands. Instantly, a roiling, basketball-sized fireball coalesced out of thin air between his palms, pulsing with intense heat. He then hurled it with incredible speed directly towards Marcus. Marcus, still reeling from the shock of the second transformation, didn't even think of dodging; his combat instincts took over, and he simply threw a powerful, straightforward punch, aiming to shatter the incoming projectile.
The moment his fist and the fireball collided, the fireball exploded with a concussive WHUMP, and fierce, superheated flames erupted outwards, engulfing his hand.
"Hot, hot, hot! It's burning me to death! My hand, my beautiful hand!" Marcus yelped, clutching his now slightly smoking hand and repeatedly flinging it in the air as if trying to shake off invisible, burning ants.
Heatblast rolled his fiery eyes. "Alright, stop acting, drama king. I didn't even use much force in that one. You probably didn't even break your skin, did you? Just a little singe."
Marcus stopped his theatrics, blowing on his reddened knuckles. "Hah! Hah! Though there's no serious wound, it still burns like crazy! That was a cheap shot!" He quickly circulated his psionic power a bit, and the redness and stinging sensation finally began to subside.
Heatblast grinned. "Since you're clearly fine, then I guess I'll have to get a little more serious now." Ethan, as Heatblast, slowly brought his flaming hands together at his waist, cupping them in a familiar, iconic stance, reminiscent of a certain famous anime energy attack. Fierce, intense yellow-orange flames began to rapidly gather and concentrate between his palms, growing brighter and more powerful with each passing second, the air around them shimmering with heat distortion. "Ready, Marcus?"
