A sharp gasp left my lips as I jolted awake.
For a few seconds, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, chest rising and falling in steady, controlled breaths. But something felt… off.
Not in the something-is-watching-me way. More like the why-does-everything-feel-too-real way.
My body felt light, yet solid, every movement perfectly optimized. My senses were sharper—too sharp. I could hear the faint hum of electricity in the walls, the distant sound of a car passing outside, even the subtle creak of the house settling. The smell of toast and eggs drifted up from downstairs, but I could isolate the scents—butter, seasoning, coffee.
What the hell?
I sat up slowly, head throbbing—not from pain, but from information overload. Memories crashed into me like a tidal wave.
Two lifetimes. Four sets of experiences, thoughts, and emotions, all trying to exist at the same time.
I remembered dying. Or at least… leaving my old world behind.
I remembered being the Hero of Heroes.
I remembered mastering magic and my alien side.
And I remembered growing up here.
Fifteen years of normalcy—birthdays, school, family vacations—all of it felt real yet fake at the same time, like watching a long, detailed movie where I was somehow both the audience and the main character.
I flexed my fingers, testing my body. My movements were too smooth, too efficient. Stronger. Faster. Better. This was mine, but it wasn't just human anymore, was it?
And then I felt it.
Something cold and metallic against my wrist.
Slowly, I raised my arm. A familiar black, white, and green device sat there, interface dark but humming with untapped power. The Omnitrix.
It looked like the one from Omniverse, but I knew I could do more than just transform—I could merge aliens, blend abilities, take things even further than before.
At the same time, a different sensation coursed through me—an energy deep within, like a current of pure power flowing through my very being. Mana.
Every living being had it, but thanks to my Anodite heritage, my reserves were functionally limitless. It was me—not just energy I used, but an extension of my existence.
I swung my legs over the bed, my bare feet touching the wooden floor. The motion felt… perfect.
Wait.
Wasn't I shorter?
I stepped toward the mirror, feet pressing against the floor with a sense of both lightness and power.
The reflection staring back was me, but not quite.
According to my absorbed memories, yesterday I had been 5'8", lean but athletic—more of a swimmer's build than anything else. Still in shape, but nothing too noticeable.
Now?
5'10", and my body had shifted from lean and fit to something sharper, stronger, more defined. I wasn't bulky like a bodybuilder, but I had the compact, honed physique of a pro athlete. My shoulders were broader, my muscles denser, and my abs were actually visible now.
My face hadn't changed much—same green eyes, same brown hair—but it was cleaner, sharper, like someone had fine-tuned it for symmetry.
And I knew exactly why.
Anodite heritage.
In the show this was never showcased, but in my Anodite life, Verdona had explained it differently. I had subconsciously altered my appearance to look better by using my anodite powers.
But that wasn't the only reason for my upgrade.
My mana-infused body carried the muscle memory of a lifetime of training. My experiences had bled over, permanently enhancing my physical state. I didn't just look stronger—I was stronger.
Then a realization hit me.
I have to go shopping again.
I groaned. My old clothes barely fit anymore.
…Or.
I exhaled, focusing on the fabric stretched uncomfortably over my arms. A shimmer of energy—invisible to normal eyes—flowed through the material. Reinforcing, reshaping, adjusting.
The discomfort vanished. My shirt fit perfectly, my sleeves extended properly, my pants loosened just enough to feel natural.
Perfect.
I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling.
This was… a lot.
Four lives. Four completely different yet equally real sets of memories. It wasn't just recalling them—I could feel them, like instincts buried just under the surface, waiting to be used.
My movements, the precision—I wasn't just standing, I was balanced. My weight naturally shifted to optimal stances. My breathing was controlled without effort. I could tell, without even testing, that I was faster, stronger, better.
And that came from years of experience, not just raw power.
The Hero of Heroes
The first life—the one where I was Ben 10, the Hero of Heroes—had shaped me beyond just having a powerful watch.
I'd started as a reckless kid who relied on the Omnitrix to brute-force my way through fights. But that changed.
In the show Ben had barely trained even though he had the resources but in reality, he had trained under the plumbers.
Hand-to-hand combat, strategy, Plumber protocols—Grandpa Max made sure I knew how to handle myself without transforming. I wasn't a soldier, but I'd been trained like an elite operative.
Every battle, every mission had refined my instincts, honed my reflexes, made me more than just a kid with a powerful tool. I understood tactics, could think like an operative when needed. Plumber law, intergalactic enforcement, combat efficiency—it was all second nature now.
Then there was the other side of me.
Being an Anodite wasn't just about magic—it was about existence.
Mana wasn't something I used; it was something I was.
I didn't need chants, incantations, or rituals—magic bent to my will as naturally as breathing. I could shape energy, enhance my body, tweak reality in subtle yet powerful ways.
Like my clothes.
A small flex of will, and my outfit had fixed itself. A tiny shift in reality—one that would save me a trip to the store.
But that wasn't the only thing I had to worry about.
Even though I was instinctively suppressing my mana, there was something I couldn't avoid.
The Sanctum Sanctorum's Barrier
My lips pressed into a thin line.
Even with a lifetime of experience in concealing my energy, that thing wasn't just a detection field. Agamotto himself had made it—a supernatural radar, designed to not only protect the world from dimensional threats but it also sensed anything unusual in the world.
And I was very unusual.
The Ancient One already knew I was here.
Shit.
I needed to figure out which version of Marvel this was. Fast.
-X-X-X-X-X-
A faint pulse of magic hummed at the edge of my senses.
I hadn't actively tried to seek it out, but now that I was aware of it, I could feel it—woven into the very fabric of the city, like an invisible net cast over the planet. The Sanctum Sanctorum's barrier.
It was ancient, potent, and undeniably aware.
Even though I was instinctively concealing my mana, I knew that the barrier had already noticed me. It wasn't just some passive field—it was a defence mechanism left behind by Agamotto himself.
And if this was the comics version of Marvel? That meant the Ancient One was an actual problem.
Still, there was no immediate sign of an approach. No sudden shifts in the barrier, no magic signatures closing in on my position.
For now, I'd ignore it. Whether the Ancient One was the male version from the comics or the female MCU counterpart, they hadn't acted yet. That meant either they were watching, waiting, or simply didn't see me as an immediate threat.
Fine by me.
Before I could think further, a familiar voice called from downstairs.
"Ben! Breakfast is ready!"
I blinked.
Right. My parents.
The moment I stepped out of my room and made my way downstairs, a strange feeling settled over me. Familiarity.
Not in the "déjà vu" sense, but something deeper—something that told me I belonged here.
When I reached the kitchen, I saw them. Carl and Sandra Tennyson.
My dad sat at the table, casually flipping through a newspaper with one hand while stirring his coffee with the other. He was dressed in a collared shirt and slacks—his usual business casual look for work. My mom stood by the stove, scooping scrambled eggs onto a plate, her expression warm as she glanced over at me.
It hit me all at once.
Even with four different sets of memories in my head, I realized that my past life—the one before all of this—was fading.
I could still recall bits and pieces. Faces without names. Moments without context. But there was no emotional connection. No overwhelming sense of loss or grief.
And honestly? That was fine.
Because these two? They were my parents.
They had raised me, scolded me, celebrated my victories, and supported me through my failures. Whether it was in my time as the Hero of Heroes, my Anodite life, or this current one—they had always been there.
So as far as I was concerned? They were my family.
"Morning, kiddo," Dad greeted, giving me a quick glance before turning the page in his paper. He paused, eyes flicking back up to me with a slight frown. "Huh. You get taller?"
I froze for a split second.
Crap.
Hadn't even considered that.
"Uh…" I stalled, glancing at my reflection in the kitchen window. Yeah, I was definitely taller than yesterday. My old height had been 5'8", but now I was 5'10", and my body had definitely filled out a bit.
"Guess I had a growth spurt," I said, shrugging casually as I moved toward the table.
Dad hummed but didn't question it further. He just took another sip of his coffee and checked his watch.
"Well, try not to grow too much while I'm at work," he joked. He folded the newspaper, grabbed his briefcase, and stood up. "I've got a meeting at nine, so I'll be home late. You two behave, alright?"
Mom rolled her eyes. "I think we can manage, Carl."
He chuckled, leaned over to kiss her on the cheek, then ruffled my hair on his way out. "See you later, sport."
I huffed, trying not to let a smirk creep onto my face. No matter how many lives I'd lived, some things never changed.
As the front door closed behind him, Mom set a plate of eggs and toast in front of me before sitting down with her own breakfast.
"So," she started, taking a sip of her coffee. "Summer vacation just started. What's your plan?"
I paused, considering that for a moment.
What was my plan?
I had power, experience, and knowledge that no one else in this world had. But at the same time, I had no clear direction—no immediate threat that needed stopping.
For now, I needed information. I needed to test my powers, figure out what version of Marvel I was in, and prepare for whatever came next.
But I couldn't exactly say all that, so instead, I just shrugged.
"Haven't decided yet," I said, taking a bite of my toast.
Mom raised an eyebrow but didn't push. "Well, just don't spend all summer cooped up inside."
I nodded absentmindedly, my thoughts already drifting to my next step.
First things first—I needed to test my abilities.
And I needed to do it somewhere safe.
After finishing breakfast and helping Mom clean up, I excused myself and headed back upstairs.
I needed to think.
I had power, knowledge, and experience, but I couldn't just rush into things blindly. I needed information. What kind of Marvel universe was this?
The Ancient One's barrier was still there at the edge of my senses, a reminder that I wasn't the only supernatural force in this world. But there was no movement—no sign of immediate interest.
Good. That meant I had time.
-X-X-X-X-X-
Stepping into my room, I quietly shut the door and took a deep breath. First things first—security.
I raised a hand and traced a quick rune in the air, pouring a bit of mana into it. The symbol glowed faintly before fading, and I felt the magic settle into place.
A simple ward.
It would alert me if anyone tried to enter my room while also ensuring that no sound escaped.
Now, onto the real work.
I activated the Omnitrix, twisting the dial until the holographic silhouette of Brainstorm appeared. The small, crab-like alien had immense intelligence—perfect for what I needed right now.
Pressing down on the core, I felt the familiar rush of transformation take over.
In an instant, my body shifted—my skin turned brownish-red, my head expanded, and my limbs grew thinner but stronger. Electricity crackled along my carapace as my mind expanded in every direction.
A truly marvellous sensation.
I screeched softly in satisfaction before turning toward my computer.
There was no way I was leaving a digital footprint with my upcoming searches. Not in a world where SHIELD, HYDRA, and who-knows-what-else were snooping around.
With Brainstorm's speed, I rewrote my computer's entire security framework in seconds.
Firewall upgrades. End-to-end encryption. Data rerouting through multiple layers of false locations. Encryptions beyond modern computing capabilities.
The moment I was done, I took a moment to admire my work.
Completely untraceable by current technology.
"Exquisite," I muttered, clicking my claws together in satisfaction.
With that handled, I got to work. I needed names.
Tony Stark
Steve Rogers
Reed Richards
Charles Xavier
I searched through news articles, company reports, and whatever information I could find online.
Tony Stark looked like his MCU counterpart, but slightly younger. His eyes were blue instead of brown. Still a genius, playboy, billionaire, but not yet Iron Man. Stark Industries was focused on weapons manufacturing.
Steve Rogers was a mix of Chris Evans and the comics version. Captain America was still a legend from World War II. No signs of him being found yet, which meant he was probably still frozen in the ice.
Reed Richards looked exactly like his comic counterpart, but there were no reports of the Fantastic Four. That meant they hadn't gained their powers yet.
Charles Xavier matched his movie version—a respected geneticist and professor, but there were no reports of mutants. No "X-Men," no major mutant events. But the fact that he existed at all meant mutants were out there, just hidden.
I leaned back in my chair, clicking my claws together in thought.
This wasn't a direct MCU timeline. Some elements matched, but others were clearly different.
So, what was my next move?
I knew my mind was safe—both my magic training and the Omnitrix protected me from telepathy. Xavier, or any other telepath, wouldn't be able to read me unless I allowed it. That gave me an advantage.
But I still didn't know how soon superheroes would emerge.
If the timeline aligned with the MCU, then Iron Man should appear around 2008. That gave me eight years.
And that meant I had options.
With my knowledge and alien intelligence, I could easily start a company—one focused on advanced technology.
Money wasn't an issue for survival—my parents weren't struggling—but if I wanted to build something bigger, I needed resources. A private lab. Advanced tech. A secure base of operations.
I clicked my claws together again.
Yes. That was the best plan.
I'd spend the next few years laying the groundwork—preparing, gathering resources, and keeping a low profile. If superheroes didn't emerge, I'd step in myself when the time was right.
For now, though?
I'd enjoy my summer vacation.
With a final thought, I deactivated the Omnitrix. A green flash filled the room as my form shifted back to human.
The next phase of my life had officially begun.