[center][img]https://preview.redd.it/omniverse-fanart-by-ethanpierceart-insta-v0-hc0vd4rnmz1b1.jpg?width=1080&crop=smart&auto=webp&s=1e17e51b9653de9bbc5d60d1d2ff751acd582d1c[/img][/center] [b]|| Bellwood Docks, Earth - 10:21 p.m. EST[/b] The fog had thinned, leaving the dockyard quiet except for the distant lap of waves. Intergang lay scattered across the concrete, unconscious or webbed to machinery. Gwen and Max stood with Ben near a stack of crates, the adrenaline finally fading. He had spent the last half hour or so explaining everything about where he’d been the last few years. Explaining about Azmuth and how he has fixed the Omnitrix from detonating. About being separated from Tetrax after the pirate attack. And then about the years that followed. The alien worlds he had seen. The people he’d saved. There was a lot he had omitted though. He didn’t want them to know about the prison worlds. The suffering he’d seen out there. The suffering he’d experienced himself. He didn’t want them to worry too much. “[color=springgreen]…and then the ship finally drifted into S.W.O.R.D’s patrol zone. Next thing I knew, I was waking up in a cell.[/color]” Ben finished the last part of his story, rubbing the back of his neck. “[color=indianred]Kid, we thought you were gone.[/color]” Max let out a long breath and shook his head. His Hawaiian shirt moved in the breeze, bright and familiar in a way that made Ben’s chest tighten. Max looked older, a little more lined around the eyes, but the warmth in his face had not changed at all. Seeing him again filled him with so much joy. “[color=springgreen]Takes more than the galaxy to get rid of me.[/color]” Ben laughed, feining the cockiness he often had. He did not say the rest. That he had replayed their faces every night. That the silence of deep space had felt heavier than any enemy. That he had missed them so much it hurt. Gwen, already unmasked, watched him with a mixture of relief and worry. She looked different from the girl he remembered. Taller. Sharper. More sure of herself. A confidence in her eyes that made it clear she had grown into her power. She was not his dweeb of a cousin anymore. Given the makeshift costume she was wearing and the magical tricks she had been performing as he arrived, it was clear she had stepped up in his absence. “[color=7ea7d8]Five years, Ben. You cannot just show up like nothing happened.[/color]” She finally managed. “[color=springgreen]I know. I am sorry. Really.[/color]” He looked between them, guilt tugging at him. “[color=springgreen]But what were you two doing out here.[/color]” He knew it was a clumsy redirect the moment it left his mouth. He was not ready to keep talking about himself, not yet. Gwen opened her mouth, clearly about to call him on it. She saw the strain in his eyes instead and let the objection go. “[color=7ea7d8]Intergang has been moving alien weapons again. Big shipments.[/color]” Max nodded, before chiming in himself. “[color=indianred]And their buyers are the Forever Knights. They’re reorganizing. Intergang is supplying them directly.[/color]” “[color=springgreen]Seriously.[/color]” Ben groaned. “[color=springgreen]I leave for five minutes and everything falls apart.[/color]” “[color=7ea7d8]Five years,[/color]” Gwen corrected. “[color=indianred]And SWORD has not been much help. They show up late, take credit, and tell us to stay out of the way.[/color]” Ben could hear the annoyance in his voice as he spoke. Gwen glanced upward. “[color=7ea7d8]Speaking of which...[/color]” Blue lights swept across the dockyard. A SWORD dropship descended, sleek and angular, humming with energy. Ben’s breath hitched. For a moment, the sound was not a dropship at all. It was the roar of the cruiser that had ambushed him near the asteroid belt. The one that boarded without warning. The one where he woke up strapped to a table. His hand twitched toward the Omnitrix, thumb brushing the dial before he caught himself. Gwen noticed. She shifted a little closer. The ramp lowered. Agents spilled out in formation. The lead agent stepped forward, tall and armoured with his visor down. Ben did not recognise him. Max clearly did, and he didn't look happy. “[color=indianred]Agent Kincaid.[/color]” He greeted coldly. Agent Kincaid simply gave him a short nod in response before turning and pointing towards Ben. “[color=lightgray]Tennyson. You were instructed to remain under observation and refrain from unauthorized transformations.[/color]” Ben froze for half a second. He really should have listened when they rattled off the conditions of his release. But hearing it now, it was just bullcrap. The idea of standing still while people he loved were in danger made his skin crawl. He was not sure he remembered how to be just Ben anymore. Ben stepped forward, irritation flaring. . “[color=springgreen]I want Brand here. Now. She is the one who signed off on my release. She can talk to me herself.[/color]” “[color=lightgray]Director Brand is occupied right now.[/color]” Kincaid replied sternly with the same official nonsense he’d quickly grown accustomed to during his brief stint on the SWORD station. “[color=springgreen]Occupied with what?[/color]” Ben asked, his jaw tightening. “[color=lightgray]Classified.[/color]” Ben let out a humourless laugh. “[color=springgreen]Of course it is.[/color]” Kincaid’s tone hardened in response. “[color=lightgray]And until she is available, you will follow protocol. That includes no transformations.[/color]” Ben’s voice sharpened. This was ridiculous. “[color=springgreen]I saved my family. What exactly did you expect me to do, wait politely to die.[/color]” “[color=lightgray]That is irrelevant. You violated protocol.[/color]” “[color=springgreen]I did not violate anything. You were not here. I was.[/color]” “[color=lightgray]You are under SWORD jurisdiction.[/color]” Max stepped forward, standing beside Ben rather than in front of him. His voice was calm and steady, carrying the weight of someone who had outranked men like Kincaid long before SWORD existed. “[color=indianred]Kincaid. You and I both know Director Brand will want to hear about this from me directly. If she has an issue with how Ben handled himself tonight, she can tell him herself when she is free.[/color]” Kincaid hesitated. “[color=indianred]We will give our statements.[/color]” Max continued, tone firm but diplomatic.”[color=indianred]Then we are leaving. You can log this as a warning if you need to. But you are not detaining him. Not tonight.[/color]” Kincaid’s jaw worked behind the visor, clearly debating what Grandpa Max had stated. Whilst not a member of SWORD, it was clear his days as a Plumber still held some weight. “[color=lightgray]Fine. A warning. This time.[/color]” Ben exhaled, tension bleeding out of his shoulders. Gwen stepped closer and brushed his arm lightly. It was a quiet check-in. Ben gave her a small nod. He was alright. Or at least trying to be. Max clapped a hand on his back, shaking him back to things. “[color=indianred]Come on. I'd offer you some dinner but all I have is that stew you always hated.[/color]” He laughed, clearly trying to lighten the mood. Ben cracked a smile. “[color=springgreen]I actually kind of missed it.[/color]” [b]|| New Jersey, Earth - 10:36 p.m. EST[/b] The dropship’s floodlights cut through the darkness, illuminating a derelict alien vessel half submerged against the pier. The hull was torn open from the inside, smoke curling from ruptured vents. The air smelled like ozone and blood. Brand stood at the breach, her coat whipping in the wind, her jaw set like iron. A field scientist in a sealed suit approached carefully, stepping around the bloody bodies of the boarding team before them. Their armor was shredded. Some were slumped against walls. Others were less intact. “[color=lightgray]Director, we have completed the preliminary sweep.[/color]” Brand did not look away from the carnage. “[color=39b54a]Report.[/color]” Was all she said. The scientist swallowed before continuing. “[color=lightgray]Some of the wounds are consistent with Brood infiltration. Parasitic entry points. Rapid tissue consumption.[/color]” Brand felt the word settle in her mind like a weight. Brood. Of all the parasites in the galaxy, they were the one species she never wanted loose on Earth. Not because they were unstoppable. Not because they were clever. Because they were efficient. They did not improvise. They did not hesitate. They did not negotiate. They consumed. She clicked her tongue as he continued. “[color=lightgray]But others… others were done by something stronger. Much stronger.[/color]” Brand’s eyes narrowed. “[color=39b54a]Survivors?[/color]” “[color=lightgray]None.[/color]” She finally turned to him. “[color=39b54a]The pilot?[/color]” Someone had to have been piloting the craft. Brood were too primitive. “[color=lightgray]Gone. Whatever was in here escaped during the crash.[/color]” Brand’s jaw tightened. “[color=39b54a]Direction.[/color]” The scientist checked his scanner. “[color=lightgray]Based on the breach and the tracks, toward the city.[/color]” Brand looked out toward the distant skyline, lights flickering in the night. “[color=39b54a]Send a search party. Full sweep. I want whatever came off this ship found.[/color]” She stepped deeper into the wreckage, her boots splashing through regeneration fluid. “[color=39b54a]And I want it found before it finds anyone else.[/color]”