Marvel With Spider Power and Omnitrix

"Four Arms!"

The moment Ben activated the Omnitrix, his transformation began with explosive force. His entire molecular structure shifted and expanded as alien DNA rewrote his human form at the cellular level.

Dr. Connors watched in stunned fascination as Ben's familiar red and black spider costume dissolved away, replaced by a distinctive black bodysuit with white stripes running down the sides. His skin took on a deep crimson hue, the texture becoming rough and powerful like living armor. His frame expanded dramatically, muscles bulging and multiplying as his height shot upward to an imposing twelve feet—nearly matching Connors' own transformed stature.

But the most striking change was the emergence of a second pair of arms from beneath his ribs. The additional limbs sprouted with organic fluidity, each one as perfectly formed and powerful as the original pair. Ben flexed all four arms experimentally, feeling the incredible strength coursing through his enhanced physiology.

The transformation was intoxicating. Ben felt as though he could lift entire buildings, punch through steel like paper, or wrestle with gods themselves. He threw back his head and released a roar that shook the very foundations of the building, venting the overwhelming power that demanded expression. Chunks of plaster rained from the ceiling as the structure groaned under the sonic assault.

He now stood as a Tetramand warrior—one of the most formidable combat species in the known galaxy. Among Ben's initial ten alien forms, Four Arms represented pure strength and fighting prowess. His combat record was legendary; he had defeated opponents that had previously conquered entire worlds. In terms of raw physical power, he stood at the apex of galactic warriors.

"Ready for your beating, Connors?" Ben's voice had deepened to a bass rumble that seemed to emanate from his massive chest. He brought all four fists together in a thunderous collision, the impact producing audible cracks as his knuckles settled into place.

Connors maintained his aggressive posture, but confusion flickered in his reptilian eyes. The red skin, the four arms, the obvious alien nature of Ben's transformation—it didn't match his expectations at all.

"You really did transform yourself," Connors said slowly, his voice carrying a note of unexpected admiration. The hostility in his demeanor seemed to diminish as he studied Ben's new form. "Look at the power you've achieved! You've finally freed yourself from that pathetic human shell!"

His tone became almost reverent as he continued, "You've experienced this kind of strength firsthand. You know what it means to transcend human limitations. So why are you still trying to stop me?"

Connors clenched his massive claws, his body language shifting from threatening to pleading. He spoke with the fervor of a true believer trying to convert a potential ally.

"You really need to ask?" Ben shot back without missing a beat, his tone dead serious.

"Because I'm not looking to date someone with a snout and a serious case of dragon breath, that's why!"

The mental image that followed made Ben shudder visibly. If Felicia Hardy or Mary Jane Watson were to undergo Connors' transformation—developing that mouth full of razor-sharp teeth and the accompanying reptilian breath—Ben was pretty sure that not even his Diamondhead form could withstand the trauma of attempting romance.

"You're incredibly selfish!" Connors spat, his earlier admiration transforming into disgust. "You could help change the world, elevate all of humanity to something greater, but instead you're keeping the possibility of human evolution locked away for your own petty concerns!"

His voice rose to an impassioned crescendo as he continued, "Your selfishness is condemning mankind to remain weak and vulnerable when they could be strong!"

Ben's laughter was cold and without humor. "Don't be ridiculous, Connors! The possibility of human evolution? Do you honestly believe you have the right to make that choice for everyone? What makes you think you're qualified to play god? Do you really believe that every person on Earth wants to become a monster like you?"

"Then how can you be certain they don't?" Connors challenged, his eyes blazing with fanatic conviction. "How do you know that the disabled, those tortured by disease, those who are despised and trampled by society—how do you know they wouldn't want this power?"

Every word carried the weight of personal experience. Connors wasn't just speaking theoretically—he was describing his own journey from a disabled scientist to a creature of immense power. But his words also reflected the struggles of countless others who survived in the shadows of a city that often overlooked their suffering.

"Some people would make a deal with the devil himself for the chance at real power!"

The argument hit closer to home than Ben wanted to admit. Even he had to acknowledge that if he hadn't gotten the Omnitrix, if he didn't have access to alien powers, would he have been tempted by Connors' offer? If it meant protecting his family, would he have been willing to sacrifice his humanity for the strength to keep them safe?

The honest answer was that he might have been.

But that didn't change his current position. He understood that Connors might genuinely believe he was working for the betterment of humanity. He also acknowledged that there were undoubtedly people who would willingly accept the transformation, regardless of the consequences.

None of that mattered to him now.

"You know what, Connors? I really don't care about your philosophical justifications," Ben said, his voice carrying absolute finality. "I only know that my folks back home would never choose to become monsters. And I refuse to live in a world where the number of super-powered individuals keeps increasing, because that would only put the people I love in greater danger."

His reasoning was brutally simple and completely selfish. He had found his line in the sand, and he was prepared to defend it with everything he had.

"I've got nothing more to say to you, Connors," Ben declared, bringing all four fists together in a display that generated visible shockwaves. "Time for your beating!"

The collision of his knuckles created a powerful gust of wind that swept through the chamber, scattering debris and dust in all directions.

Connors had clearly abandoned any hope of reasoning with his opponent. He now regarded Ben as the primary obstacle to human evolution, a misguided fool who needed to be eliminated for the greater good. His reptilian features twisted into a mask of predatory hunger as he prepared to tear Ben apart limb by limb.

"Fine," Connors hissed through clenched teeth. "I'll remove you from the equation and consume your remains!"

His massive claws swept forward, cutting through the air with enough force to create visible distortions in the atmosphere.

This time, Ben didn't attempt to dodge or evade. Instead, he charged forward like a crimson battering ram, his four arms spread wide as he prepared to meet Connors' attack head-on.

The impact was absolutely brutal.

The shockwave generated by their impact became a visible phenomenon, rippling outward from the point of contact like the epicenter of an earthquake. The space between them became the eye of a hurricane, with violent winds spiraling outward in all directions. The force of their clash sent cracks racing along all four walls of the chamber, spider-webbing through concrete and steel as if the building itself were crying out in pain.

Connors realized his mistake the instant their bodies met. The creature before him possessed strength that defied comprehension. It was like running headfirst into a mountain—Ben didn't move so much as a millimeter, while Connors felt as though every bone in his arms had been jarred loose from the impact.

Instinctively, Connors tried to retreat, to create distance so he could reassess the situation. But he found himself unable to move backward even a single step.

Ben's lower set of arms locked onto Connors' wrists like industrial clamps. The grip was so strong, Connors could feel the stress in his reinforced bones, creaking under the pressure. No matter how hard he thrashed, it was like trying to break out of solid steel cuffs.

"You mentioned something about twisting my head off, didn't you?" Ben's grin was predatory as he raised his upper pair of arms high above his head, interlocking his fingers to form a single, massive fist. The shadow of his combined arms fell across Connors like the silhouette of an executioner's axe.

Connors looked up into Ben's four glowing eyes—burning with alien focus and barely restrained rage—and for the first time since becoming the Lizard, a chill of real fear crept in. It reminded him of what it was like to be human again… fragile, exposed, and powerless in a world that never went easy on the weak.

"Wait, let me explain—"

But Ben's hammer-fist was already descending with the force of a meteor strike.

The impact was devastating. The floor beneath Connors' feet didn't just crack—it shattered completely, creating a crater several inches deep. The entire foundation of the building seemed to sink under the tremendous force, and Connors felt as though his skull had been used as an anvil.

The blow drove his jaws together with such violence that his razor-sharp teeth—each one capable of cutting through steel—began to crack and fall out under the pressure. His vision exploded into stars and darkness as consciousness wavered on the edge of oblivion.

When his head cleared enough to focus, he realized that Ben's grip on his wrists had shifted. Now one massive hand held his head in a grip that could have crushed concrete, lifting him until they were eye to eye.

"Tell me," Ben's voice rumbled like distant thunder, "where is Dr. Animo?"

Despite their victory over Connors, Ben knew the real threat remained at large. Dr. Animo, the mastermind behind the genetic manipulation technology, was still somewhere in the city with the means to transform thousands of innocent people. In comparison to Animo's potential for mass destruction, Connors was merely a distraction.

"Dr. Animo..." Connors managed to wheeze out despite his injuries. Even in his defeated state, the mention of Animo's name brought a smile to his bloodied features.

"You're too late, Parker," he said, his voice weak but filled with malicious satisfaction. "You think defeating me means anything? Dr. Animo is already in position with the Canary Device and the genetic transmutation array. Soon, everyone in New York will experience evolution!"

His laughter was a raspy, triumphant sound despite his obvious pain.

"How many people can you possibly fight?" he taunted. "And how many of those people will be your friends and family members?"

The implications hit Ben like a physical blow. The image of His mom and dad transformed into hideous monsters was almost too terrible to contemplate. A rage unlike anything he had ever experienced began building in his chest, a fire that threatened to consume all rational thought.

"You know what?" Ben's voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "I may not be able to save everyone, but I damn sure know I can beat the hell out of you!"

He hurled Connors upward with enough force to send the lizard spinning through the air. Ben's four arms cocked back simultaneously, each one loaded with enough kinetic energy to punch through armor plating. His muscles coiled like springs under tremendous tension, every fiber of his enhanced physiology focused on delivering maximum destruction.

The moment Connors reached the peak of his trajectory, Ben unleashed his assault.

His fists moved faster than the human eye could follow, creating sonic booms with each strike. The air itself seemed to explode under the barrage, and the sound of Ben's punches created a thunderous drumbeat that echoed through the entire building.

Four arms struck like a machine gun made of flesh and bone, each impact driving Connors deeper into the floor as the foundation gave way beneath the overwhelming assault. The battle between titans had reached its crescendo, and Ben's fury would not be satisfied until every ounce of his rage had been spent.

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