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ZET-MAN! (Re-Imagined)

PettiaMius_6689
7
chs / week
The average realized release rate over the past 30 days is 7 chs / week.
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41.6k
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Synopsis
A re-do of my old fanfic. This time, It's going be done properly, with no crappy power escalation foolishness. The story is gonna be pretty cool, at least I think so? The story of Zet-Man and ben-10 are not owned by me, I am simply using the original story as a bore remover? Yeah, I'm bored.
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Chapter 1 - Waking up...

~??? Pov~

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'Urghh...' My head's killing me. I pressed my hand to my forehead, trying to will the ache away, but it only seems to pulse harder with each moment that passed. My eyelids feel so heavy, like they're made of lead, and I fight the urge to close them again. The light streaming through the window is harsh, stabbing at my senses and making the pounding in my skull even worse...

I hear a muffled sound in the distance, and I squint, trying to focus on what it is. The room sways around me, and I take a deep breath, willing myself to shake off the fatigue. I can't just lie here; something important is waiting for me outside this fog. Actually... Where was here?

I blinked, the question hitting me like a cold splash of water. Where was in the actual heck was here? The walls around me where new, unfamiliar—pale, bare, and almost sterile. My head swam as I tried to piece things together, but the harder I think, the more the ache behind my eyes intensifies. I can't remember how I got here, or why I'm even in this room.

'Just what is going on here?'

I took another deep breath, scanning my surroundings with a growing sense of unease. There's window, but sign of anything I recognize, just the dull hum of something in the background. Panic stirs in my chest, but I force it down. First things first—I-I need to figure out where I am...

"Wait..." M-My voice came out shakier, younger than I expected, "Why are my hands so small?"

I stared at them, turning them over in front of my face, but it wasn't just my hands. Glancing down, my breath caught in my throat. My whole body was smaller. My limbs, my chest—everything felt out of place, like I'd been stuffed into a body that wasn't mine...

"Hahaha..." The laugh escaped my lips before I could stop it. "I'm definitely dreaming..."

I laughed, but the sound didn't feel right. It echoed in the empty room, hollow, like I was trying to convince myself. 

I looked around again, this time more frantically. There had to be something, some clue that could explain all this. But the room was still painfully empty—bare walls, no furniture, nothing that screamed 'this is real' or 'this is a dream.'

"Okay, calm down," I muttered, trying to steady my breathing. "Think. There has to be an explanation..."

But deep down, I knew there wasn't. I was smaller, younger, and no amount of logic was going to make that go away. I pressed my back against the wall, sliding down until I was sitting on the cold floor. My knees pulled up to my chest, and I hugged them tight, as if holding myself together could somehow snap me out of whatever this was.

This was insane... This couldn't just be a dream, there was just no way it could possible be one. This was way too vivid. 

"Alright... Think man, there's got to be more than just nothing here." Instead of staying one place, I checked my surroundings. If there was one thing I've seen from movies, it was that when being put in a situations like these, it's best to adapt and think my way out of it. 

Looking back, I looked at the window, and across from it, I could see the make-out of another building.

'Good, that means I'm not out in the middle of nowhere... I think...' Seeing another building just means that there was another structure outside of the one I'm in. That didn't mean there were people other than me too... Or, I'm just being Hella paranoid right now.

I stepped closer to the window, squinting a bit. That's when I caught a glimpse of my own reflection... or what should've been my reflection. It was faint, the glass too dirty to make out the details clearly, but there was no mistaking the smaller figure staring back at me.

Not just that either, I looked, edgy... I had dark hair, eyes that couldn't be from a human because they were blood red for some reason. Human eye colors weren't red. I didn't look albino either, even if my skin was on the paler side of the spectrum now...

My heart sank as I moved even closer, my eyes widening. The kid in the reflection—it couldn't be me, right? But it was. Everything about the figure was wrong: the shorter limbs, the younger face, the unfamiliar eyes looking back at me. I lifted my hand, watching the reflection mirror my movements.

No... this is definitely not a dream. 

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After spending the better time of doing mental gymnastics for the past hour or so, I think I've gotten acclimated enough.

Well, I can confirm now... I'm definitely not the only human here. I see others from the neighborhood, mostly elders... Scratch that, only elders. Yet, somehow I ended up in a random neighborhood, with no clue how I got here. And to top it off, I'm completely out of my depth. I mean, I'm a 20-year-old man stuck in the body of a 10 or 11-year-old kid. Not just any kid, either—this one looks like some edgy high schooler designed him.

On the upside, I have to admit, I look pretty damned good. For a kid, anyway. At least I've got that going for me, right? But seriously, what the heck am I supposed to do now? No family, no money... and my stomach's already starting to growl. Yay me!

I sighed, rubbing my forehead. Great, I'm good-looking and broke. That's going to take me far-

I stopped, seeing an old fishing rod nearby... 'That's my ticket to something to eat! Now... If I can just kindly take it off that person's hands. It shouldn't be an issue...'

But, I couldn't just take the thing, I wasn't a thief but I do needed to eat something. I'll ask first since it's the right thing to do, if I couldn't get it. I'd do what I have to do.

With a deep breath, I walked up to the door of the house, hoping whoever lived here was home. My knuckles hovered over the door for a second before I knocked.

I knocked, the sound echoing through the quiet neighborhood. My nerves were starting to get the best of me, but I kept my hand steady, trying to look as innocent as a hungry kid could.

Seconds passed. No answer.

I knocked again, a little louder this time, glancing back at the fishing rod. 'Come on, someone's gotta be home...'

I was just about to turn and leave when the door creaked open. An older man, maybe in his sixties, peeked through the small crack he'd made, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"Yeah? What do you want, kid?" His voice was gravelly, and he didn't seem all too thrilled about being interrupted.

"Uh, hey," I said, doing my best to sound polite. "I saw that fishing rod outside, and, uh... well, I was wondering if maybe I could borrow it for a bit? I kind of need it... to, you know... catch some food."

The man raised an eyebrow at that, sizing me up. I could tell he was hesitant, probably thinking I was just some random kid up to no good. I don't blame him for it either. I'm glad we can even have this discussion at all.

He gave me a look, the kind old folks give when they're testing you. "Tell ya' what, kid, if you can even pick it up, I'll give ya' the thing, no questions asked. So... how about it?" His voice held a challenge, and I couldn't tell if he was bluffing or being serious. Either way, this rod was my best shot at getting food without relying on anyone else. A big chance, really.

I glanced at the rod again. It was my only option, and there was no way I was backing down. "Sure," I said, walking over to it. I could feel his eyes on me, waiting to see what I'd do. The rod really was something—a beauty, even if it was old. The thing was huge, though. From the looks of it, it could easily weigh 50 pounds or more.

I wrapped my hand around it, expecting the weight to hit me hard. But as soon as I lifted, I blinked in surprise. It wasn't heavy. Not to an insane degree, anyway. I could easily pick it up, and I felt like I could handle two or three more just like it before getting tired.

The old man's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Huh... well, I-I'll be damned," he muttered, scratching his head, looking towards the side. "Didn't think you had it in ya, kid. Guess it's yours, like I said." He shrugged, but I could tell he was impressed, even if he didn't want to admit it. I would be too. 10 year old's weren't supposed to able to hold robs like this so easily.

I can attest to that since I've been fishing for a good part of my life. Still, I smiled, gripping the rod tighter. "Thanks gramps. I'll make good use of it."

'Now, I just needed to find a place to fish... I guess it's back to the roaming game.'

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~Omniscient Pov~

"Ben! Gwen!" an elderly man in his sixties called out, his gravelly voice cutting through the air. He tipped his yellow hat back, wiping a bit of sweat from his brow before winding his own fishing rod with practiced ease. His hands were rough, calloused from years of labor, and the rod moved fluidly as if it was an extension of himself.

The man looked around, searching for the two he'd called for, scanning the area with a calm but sharp gaze, as if something just felt off today.

The elderly man finished reeling in his line, frowning slightly. "Ben! Gwen!" he called again, louder this time. His voice carried over the water, but the two figures he was looking for were nowhere in sight. He grumbled under his breath, setting his rod aside and adjusting his yellow hat.

"Where could those kids have wandered off to now?" He mumbled to himself.

He then stood up, stretching his back with a groan, then glanced around the quiet area. Something was nagging at him, a feeling he couldn't quite shake off. The place seemed a little too still. The usual sounds of nature—birds, insects—were quieter than they should've been...

'Hmph, probably just my old bones acting up again...' he thought, though the unease lingered in the pit of his stomach. He reached for his rod, but his eyes kept darting to the path ahead, wondering what those two were getting up to.

However, he heard some rustling nearby. Causing him to turn around, thinking it was his grandchildren, he smiled. "Ben, Gwen, why were you both so-" He stopped himself. Realizing that the figure that approached wasn't his grand children, rather a single child.

A child holding a fishing rob? 'Why was such a young child all the way out here?' He thought. However, when he took a closer look, he realized that the youngster in front of him had unusually red eyes... A rather strong shade of red too, reminding him of his own grandchildren's green eyes...

'Is he an alien?' He thought to himself, but shook off the thought.

Before he could say anything, the child waved towards him, and out of habit, he did so back. As soon as the child waved, he walked towards him. "Good day mister, uh.. do you mind me having some of your bait?" He smiled sheepishly.

The elder raised an eyebrow at first, finding this situation off, "Hmm... What's your name son? My name's Maxwell, but you can call me max for short." Max outstretched his hand in gesture.

The child however hesitated for a moment, before reaching out back again, "My name's Alex, nice to meet you too."

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END