A Heroes Journey Begins

Ben scanned the street quickly before slipping into a nearby alley, making sure no one noticed him. Hidden beneath a staircase, he activated the Omnitrix, scrolling through the holographic selection of aliens. Finding the one he wanted, he slammed his palm down on the device, locking in his choice.

Instantly, his body began to change. He shot upward, growing to nearly three meters in height. A long, sleek tail extended behind him, while his hands morphed into bulky, three-fingered claws that could only open and close.

"XLR8," Ben muttered as the transformation completed. His helmet slid into place over his head. "Alright, let's see how fast I am."

Without wasting another second, he took off toward the explosion site. In his Kineceleran form, everything around him seemed to move in slow motion. Cars, pedestrians, and city lights blurred past as he zipped through the streets, weaving through traffic and leaping over obstacles with effortless precision. Even though he wasn't at top speed yet, the rush of moving beyond human limits filled him with exhilaration.

In mere seconds, he arrived at the scene. Flames engulfed a five-story apartment building, thick smoke billowing into the night sky. He skidded to a stop, a maneuver unique to XLR8—unlike FastTrack, another speedster alien, who struggled to decelerate at high speeds.

"Crap… did someone plant a bomb or something?" he muttered, taking in the destruction. The explosion had been relatively small, but the fire was spreading fast.

Standing in the middle of the street, his sleek black suit clinging to his alien frame, Ben cut an imposing figure. White stripes ran down his limbs and tail, and the Omnitrix symbol on his chest glowed an intense green. A few bystanders gawked at him, unsure of what they were seeing. But he had no time to worry about them.

People were trapped inside. He had to act fast.

XLR8's sharp eyes scanned the building, assessing the situation. Then, in an instant, he bolted forward, becoming nothing more than a black blur. To the crowd, it was as if a shadow had darted through their midst, leaving only a gust of wind behind.

A murmur of confusion rippled through the onlookers. Was it a trick of the light? They barely had time to process what they had just seen before something even stranger happened.

Suddenly, people began appearing on the sidewalk, materializing as if out of thin air. A woman in a pink nightrobe, her dark skin stained with soot, stood trembling, her eyes wide with terror. Before she could even comprehend what had happened, another person arrived in a blur, then another.

One by one, survivors emerged from the burning structure. Some stumbled forward, coughing, while others collapsed onto the pavement, too disoriented to understand how they had escaped. Their faces were a mix of fear, shock, and relief.

Inside the building, XLR8 was a streak of motion, his raptor-like form darting through flaming hallways. Walls crumbled, ceilings sagged, and sparks rained down, but he barely noticed. His focus was absolute—searching each room in a fraction of a second, spotting those still alive.

Whenever he found someone, he grabbed them and raced back outside before they could even scream. The heat was intense, the fire roaring all around him, but there was no time to hesitate. He had to keep moving.

As he passed the blast zone, his gaze flicked toward the victims who hadn't made it. Charred bodies lay motionless—too close to the explosion to have stood a chance. His stomach twisted, but he forced himself to push the grief aside. He couldn't afford to dwell on it. Not now.

In one apartment, he found two young children huddled beside a man pinned under debris. The man was barely conscious, his breaths shallow. Ben didn't have time to free him yet—the kids had to get out first.

Scooping them up carefully, he bolted for the exit, making sure not to move too fast. The force of his speed could injure them if he wasn't careful. Their terrified screams rang in his ears, but there was no time to comfort them.

"Sorry, this must be scary for you," he muttered, his voice distorted by his alien form. It didn't help. The sound only seemed to make them more frightened.

As soon as he reached the street, he set them down gently and vanished back into the flames.

The crowd outside had grown, their phones raised, capturing footage of the black-and-white blur saving lives. But Ben ignored them. He moved through the collapsing structure, checking every room, every corner. He couldn't run at full speed—moving too fast could kill the very people he was trying to save.

In just under two minutes, he had pulled seventeen people from the inferno.

Finally, standing outside, he looked over the survivors. Some were burned, others injured, but they were alive. Yet, the weight of the ones he hadn't saved pressed down on him. Those he'd left behind.

Being a hero wasn't supposed to feel like this.

His eyes flicked to the raging fire, the flames still consuming what was left of the building. He needed to stop it before it spread further. Then, an idea came to him—something he had seen the Flash do on TV.

Planting his feet, he spun his arms at superhuman speed, generating twin vortexes. The air shifted, pulling the flames into the spinning funnels. Gasps rippled through the crowd as the fiery spirals twisted upward, drawing in the blaze.

Faster.

Faster.

The flames flickered, then died, snuffed out by the sheer force of the air currents.

Silence fell over the street.

Then, a single voice broke through the hush.

"What the hell…?"

Ben stood still as the last of the fire died out. For the first time, the crowd got a clear look at him—his black suit gleaming in the dim light, the Omnitrix glowing a bright green on his chest. The onlookers stared in a mix of fear and fascination, realizing they weren't just witnessing some superhero; they were seeing something alien.

He could feel their eyes on him, and for a moment, all he could think about were the people he hadn't been able to save. Some had lost everything—their homes, their families. Doubt crept in. Had he done enough? Being a hero wasn't about excitement or glory. It was about saving lives. And sometimes, no matter how fast he was, it wasn't enough.

The distant wail of sirens pulled him from his thoughts. Fire trucks and police cars were racing toward the scene, their flashing lights reflecting off the scorched pavement. More and more people were raising their phones, recording everything. He couldn't stay any longer.

Before anyone could approach, ask questions, or get too close, he took off in a blur, vanishing before they could even blink.

"Hey! Who—or what—the hell was that?" a young man asked, his phone still raised as he recorded the empty space where the figure had been.

"How the hell should any of us know?" an older man muttered, his gaze still locked on the direction the blur had disappeared. "Just be thankful it's gone… for now."

Ducking into a subway tunnel, Ben hurriedly found a secluded spot and reverted to his human form. He let out a sigh of relief, slumping against the cold wall with a dull thud.

Images of charred bodies and mangled limbs filled his mind—some barely clinging to life, gasping their final breaths. The memory was overwhelming. He had hesitated, afraid that moving them might cause more harm. He wasn't a doctor. All he could do was clear debris where he could and secure the area until the firefighters arrived. But leaving those who had suffered the worst injuries gnawed at him. Had he made the right call?

Shaking his head, he clenched his fists. "Come on, Ben, this isn't the time to wallow," he muttered, slapping his own cheek to snap himself out of it. He had done what he could in that moment. Could he have done more? Maybe. But this was his first real attempt at being a hero—mistakes were bound to happen.

Thinking back, Brainstorm could have helped him come up with a safer way to move the injured. Realizing this now, he pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"Ugh… why didn't I think of that earlier?" he groaned. "XLR8 has accelerated thinking, but I need to start using it consciously."

But there was no point dwelling on it now. What was done was done.

Dusting himself off, Ben glanced around before turning his attention back to the Omnitrix. Dialing in a new form, he pressed down on the device. A chilling mist escaped his mouth as his body transformed, replaced by a ghostly, spectral figure.

A dark, tattered robe flowed down his form, giving him an eerie, wraith-like appearance. Jagged, glowing blue patterns pulsed across the fabric, adding to the supernatural aura. His face was mostly concealed in darkness, save for his piercing green eyes and a sharp, menacing grin. His clawed hands flickered with an otherworldly blue energy, resembling a spectral glow. His feet, now talon-like, hovered slightly above the ground.

"Big Chill," he whispered in a ghostly voice.

Spreading his massive wings, he turned intangible and phased through the ceiling, vanishing into the night.

Unknown Location – S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters

Hours later, video clips of a figure moving at superhuman speed had flooded the internet. In a dimly lit room, the only illumination came from the soft glow of a monitor. A tall man stood watching the footage, his expression unreadable. Dressed in a dark gray sweater, black pants, and polished shoes, he exuded authority. One eye was concealed by a familiar black eyepatch.

Director Nick Fury.

"You're telling me you can't track whoever this is?" Fury's voice was calm, but there was an unmistakable weight behind it—a demand for answers.

"No, sir. A team is working on it, but whoever or whatever this is went underground as soon as it left the scene," came the response from an agent behind him. "It knows how to avoid our satellite tracking systems. None of our cameras can capture it clearly—it's too fast."

Fury remained silent, his gaze fixed on the footage. The figure darted through the flames, pulling civilians from the burning wreckage at impossible speeds.

Another possibility crept into his mind.

"Do you think it's some like the Hulk?" the agent asked.

Fury's brow furrowed. "It's more likely someone with abilities similar to Dr. Banner… or something extraterrestrial in origin. But so far, it hasn't shown any hostility." He paused for a moment before adding, "At least, not yet."

He replayed the footage one last time before turning away. "For now, let's assume it's friendly. But I want a full investigation. We need to know who this is—and what they want. Understood, Agent Romanoff?"

Seated on a nearby sofa, a woman with long, curly red hair observed him with a knowing smirk. Dressed in a sleek black leather suit, she exuded confidence.

"Understood, Director," Natasha Romanoff replied, her voice as sharp as her smile. Before turning to leave the room, closing the door behind her. Fury kept replaying the footage over and over again, glancing over at the document on desk labeled Avengers Initiative. With a furrowed brow.

////

Big Chill

General Information

Species:

Necrofriggian

Home World:

Kylmyss

DNA source:

Unknown

Body:

Humanoid Moth

Abilities:

Cryokinesis

Freeze Breath

Ice Generation

Freeze Touch

Flight

Temperature Resistance

Intangibility

Strong Bite

Space Survivability

Underwater Breathing

Enhanced Strength

Enhanced Durability

Enhanced Agility

Appreance:

Big Chill is a blue and black insect humanoid alien with navy-blue wings, green eyes, and dark blue fur on the top of his shoulders to the bottom of his thighs. Big Chill has light blue spots on his forelimbs, antennas, claws, and head.

The Omnitrix symbol is located on his chest.