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[b]|| Bellwood Docks, Earth - 9:43 p.m. EST[/b]

Fog rolled thick across the waterfront, swallowing the rows of rust‑red shipping containers until they were nothing but hulking silhouettes. The air tasted like cold metal and diesel fumes. Gunfire cracked through the night, each burst lighting the mist in stuttering, ghostly flashes.

Max Tennyson ducked behind a stack of splintered pallets, his bright Hawaiian shirt half hidden beneath a bulky, well‑worn bulletproof vest. 

[color=indianred]“I told you not to engage yet”[/color] he said as he turned fire with compact alien blaster.

Beside him, Gwendolyn “Gwen” Tennyson crouched low, her black tactical gear blending into the shadows. A blue facecloth covered the lower half of her face, but her eyes burned with focus. A glowing violet sigil hovered over her palm, its edges crackling as it expanded into a shimmering shield that absorbed the next volley of plasma fire. Each impact sent ripples across the barrier like stones thrown into water.

[color=7ea7d8]“They were Intergang, Grandpa,”[/color] she snapped, breath fogging the air. [color=7ea7d8]“Last time we waited, they got away with half a crate of alien weapons.”[/color]

Max risked a quick glance around the pallets. The fog parted just enough to reveal shapes moving between the containers.

[color=indianred]“And this time the buyer is already gone. We needed him.”[/color] He gave her a stern look as he spoke.

Gwen felt a familiar pressure settle behind her ribs. They had been tracking Intergang and the Forever Knights for weeks, watching both groups stir in ways they had not in years. Max had barely agreed to bring her tonight, and only because he knew she would have gone alone if he refused. He said she had been taking more risks since Ben vanished. Maybe she had. But someone had to keep pushing. Someone had to do what was right.

Another burst of gunfire slammed into Gwen’s shield. Cracks spiderwebbed across it, glowing bright for a heartbeat before dimming.

Gwen gritted her teeth, sweat beading at her temple. [color=7ea7d8]“I am not letting Intergang disappear again.”[/color]

She thrust her free hand outward. A telekinetic wave rippled across the dockyard, distorting the fog as it surged forward. It hit a stack of metal barrels with a thunderous clang. The barrels toppled like dominoes, crashing down on two Intergang goons and sending them sprawling in a tangle of limbs and curses.

The effort drained her. The shield flickered, shrinking to a thin, trembling disc.

Three remaining gunmen stepped out from behind cover, weapons raised, their silhouettes sharp against the fog.

Max pulled Gwen close, shielding her with his body despite the danger.

[color=indianred]“Gwen”[/color], he breathed, his voice filled with panic.

[color=7ea7d8]“I know,”[/color] she whispered, bracing herself.

The gunmen took aim.

A green flash erupted from above, cutting through the fog like lightning.

Something spherical and armored dropped from the sky with meteoric force. It slammed into the first gunman, launching him backward into a shipping container with a metallic boom that echoed across the docks. The sphere rebounded instantly, ricocheting off another container, then another, smashing through the dockyard like a living wrecking ball.

Cannonbolt.

Max’s breath caught in his throat.

[color=indianred]“It can't be.”[/color]

Cannonbolt hit the second gunman square in the chest, folding him around the impact before sending him crashing into a stack of crates that collapsed in a dusty avalanche.

The third gunman panicked. His plasma blast caught Cannonbolt mid‑bounce, the impact sending the armored sphere spinning wildly through the air.

He caught himself, unrolling mid‑flight with practiced ease.

Another green flash lit the fog.

Wings snapped open. Multifaceted eyes gleamed through the fog. Stinkfly hovered above the dockyard, tail curling forward with predatory precision.

The eye stalks pulsed and swelled before they expelled a rapid‑fire stream of sticky green sludge. The slime shot out in rhythmic bursts, each pulse accompanied by a wet, organic thrum. It splattered across the last gunman, pinning him to a forklift like a fly trapped in amber.

Stinkfly dove, wings folding tight as he streaked toward the immobilized thug. Mid‑air, another green flash engulfed him.

Ben Tennyson burst out of the light, momentum carrying him forward, fist cocked back.

One clean punch knocked the final goon out cold.

Ben landed lightly on the concrete, boots skidding slightly on the damp ground as the Omnitrix powered down with a soft, familiar chime.

Gwen lowered her facecloth, eyes wide, breath still shaky.

[color=7ea7d8]“Ben?”[/color]

He grinned, breathless and triumphant.

[Color=springgreen]“Miss me?”[/color]