Chapter 2: A New Passenger

The Rustbucket hummed softly as it cruised down the highway, its headlights cutting through the dim evening light. Inside, the atmosphere was tense.

Alex sat on the couch, staring blankly at the floor, his mind a foggy mess. He still felt dizzy, and his head throbbed as if something was clawing at his memories—but no matter how hard he tried, nothing surfaced except for a single name.

Alex.

That was all he knew.

Across from him, Ben sat cross-legged on his bed, arms folded as he studied him with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. Gwen sat nearby, holding a notebook like she was taking mental notes.

Grandpa Max, sitting in the driver's seat, finally broke the silence.

"You feeling any better, Alex?"

Alex blinked, then gave a small nod. "Yeah… I think so." His voice still felt strange in his own ears.

"Still don't remember anything?" Gwen pressed.

Alex hesitated before shaking his head. "Nothing. Just my name."

Gwen frowned. "Not even how you got in that pod?"

"I wish I knew."

Ben, clearly impatient, leaned forward. "Alright, but be honest—are you an alien?"

Alex gave him a blank stare. "What?"

Ben pointed at him dramatically. "Dude, you fell from the sky in a pod. You either got abducted by aliens or are an alien."

Alex opened his mouth to protest, then hesitated.

Could he really say for sure that he wasn't an alien? He had no memories—just the name Alex and the sense that something was missing.

"...I don't think so?" he answered uncertainly.

Gwen sighed. "You don't think so? That's reassuring."

"Cut him some slack," Grandpa Max said. "He's been through a lot."

Ben huffed, crossing his arms. "Fine, but if he turns out to be a shape-shifting alien spy, I get to say 'I told you so.'"

Alex frowned. "That's… weirdly specific."

Ben pointed to the strange black and green device still stuck on his wrist. "Yeah? Well, this thing just jumped onto me and won't come off, so weirdly specific is kind of my life now."

Alex's eyes narrowed slightly as he examined the watch-like device on Ben's wrist. Something about it felt familiar, though he had no idea why.

Before he could think too much about it, a loud growl interrupted them.

Everyone turned to look at Ben—who grinned sheepishly. "Uh… That was my stomach."

Grandpa Max chuckled. "Guess it's time to stop for food."

Pit Stop

A few miles later, the Rustbucket pulled into a small roadside diner, the neon sign flickering. The air was thick with the smell of grilled food and motor oil as truckers and travelers came and went.

Inside, the Tennysons and Alex settled into a booth. The waitress, a tired-looking woman, handed them menus.

"Anything catch your eye, Alex?" Grandpa Max asked.

Alex stared at the menu, his mind blank. He knew what words were—he could read them just fine—but for some reason, none of the food names felt familiar. It was like reading about another world.

Ben leaned over. "Dude, you act like you've never seen a burger before."

Alex hesitated. "I… just don't know what I like."

Gwen raised an eyebrow. "You don't know what food you like?"

Ben smirked. "Well, good thing you have me to guide you!" He dramatically pointed to the menu. "The Ben Special: One extra-large cheeseburger, a side of chili fries, and the biggest soda they've got."

Gwen groaned. "That's not a 'Ben Special.' That's just you being a bottomless pit."

Alex, still uncertain, just nodded. "I'll have that too, I guess."

"Good choice," Ben said, giving him a thumbs-up.

Strange Feelings

As they waited for their food, Alex kept glancing around the diner. The people, the sounds, the way things moved—all of it felt off in a way he couldn't explain.

Like he wasn't supposed to be here.

He didn't say anything, though. He didn't want to sound weird, especially since he was already the mystery kid who fell from the sky.

Their food arrived, and Alex hesitated before taking a bite of his burger. The moment it hit his tongue, his eyes widened slightly.

It was good.

Not just good—familiar.

Something about the taste felt right, like he'd had it before… a long time ago. But no images or memories came with it, just that lingering sense of recognition.

Gwen noticed his expression. "You remember something?"

Alex swallowed, shaking his head. "No… just feels like I've had this before."

Grandpa Max hummed in thought. "That's a start. Maybe other familiar things will help your memory come back."

Alex hoped so.

Because right now, he felt like a puzzle with missing pieces—and no idea what the full picture was supposed to be.

Unknown Threat

Outside the diner, something lurked in the shadows.

A small, hovering drone—no bigger than a baseball—floated silently near the Rustbucket, its red eye flickering as it scanned the vehicle. Its metallic plating gleamed in the moonlight, and inside, complex alien technology whirred to life.

[TARGET LOCATED.]

Across the stars, in the depths of space, an ominous figure sat in the command chair of a massive warship. His red, piercing eyes stared at a holo-screen displaying the image of the Rustbucket—and the two signals it had detected.

One was the Omnitrix.

The other was something new.

The figure's clawed hand tightened into a fist. "Prepare the drones. I want them captured alive."

The ship rumbled as it changed course—heading straight for Earth.

To Be Continued…