“Negative. The Omnitrix’s recharge cycle is at forty-seven percent. Also, you chose this form to ‘avoid the goop,’ as you put it. You made your aquatic bed. Now rest in it.”

A flash of emerald light, and Ben landed on his feet as Kickin’ Hawk . The six-foot-tall, feathery, martial arts rooster-man cracked his neck. “Now we’re cooking with gas. Watch and learn, Rook.”

“Uh, guys?” Ben said.

The Time Bug exploded in a silent burst of chronal static. The shockwave wasn’t physical. It was narrative . It rewrote the cause and effect of the last three seconds. Suddenly, Ben hadn’t pressed the seal correctly. He’d slammed it. Too hard.