Chapter 4: Trial by Fire
The synthesized voice faded into the sudden, profound silence of the woods at dusk. Ben lay on the cool earth of the crater, his breath catching in his throat. His gaze was locked on the device clamped to his wrist. It was no longer just a strange object; it had a name. Omnitrix. The green hourglass symbol pulsed with a soft, steady light, a rhythmic beat in the growing darkness.
The initial terror began to recede, replaced by a wave of bewildered curiosity that was so fundamentally him. He sat up slowly, cautiously raising his left arm. The watch felt heavy, alien, yet somehow… right. It was perfectly fused to his skin, with no seams or edges he could get a fingernail under. It was a part of him now. His heart still hammered against his ribs, but his panic was being overridden by a teenager's undeniable impulse to poke the strange thing that had just attached itself to him.
Hesitantly, he reached over with his right hand and pressed his thumb against the smooth, dark faceplate. With a soft click-hiss, the faceplate rose. The green hourglass symbol split in two and retracted, revealing a cylindrical core that projected a glowing green ring. Inside that ring, a silhouette materialized. It was a humanoid figure, tall and slender, its form seemingly composed of shifting black magma, with a fiery core visible within its chest. Ben stared, his eyes wide with a quiet, stunned awe. It was like looking at a character selection screen in a video game, but one that was now physically attached to his body.
Every rational thought told him to stop, to leave it alone, to run and get help. But another, more powerful urge whispered in his mind. What does it do? He lowered the glowing ring with a decisive push. A deep, resonating thump echoed from the Omnitrix as the core locked back into place.
For a split second, nothing happened. Then, a wave of blinding green energy erupted from the watch, engulfing him completely. An indescribable sensation shot through every cell in his body. It wasn't pain, not exactly, but a violent, transformative pressure. He felt his bones stretch and elongate, his skin crack and split apart like cooling lava. His insides churned, becoming a furnace of unimaginable heat. A voice screamed, and he dimly realized it was his own, though it sounded deeper now, crackling and layered, like logs burning in a hearth.
The light faded. The feeling of stretching stopped. He felt… tall. And incredibly hot. He slowly lifted a hand to his face and froze. It wasn't a hand. It was a three-fingered appendage of hardened, reddish-brown rock, with deep fissures from which yellow-white fire blazed. He could feel the flames licking at his own rocky skin, yet there was no pain.
He scrambled to his feet, his new, taller body clumsy and unbalanced. He looked down and saw a body made of living magma, his head a floating, flaming skull. He lurched towards a puddle of water that had collected at the bottom of the crater from the previous day's rain and stared at his reflection. A terrifying, fiery creature stared back.
"I'm on fire!" he shrieked, his voice a chorus of embers. He flailed his arms wildly. "I'M ON FIRE! But… I'm okay? I'm on fire and I'm okay!" A nervous, slightly hysterical laugh bubbled up from his molten throat. He took a clumsy step backward, bumping into a small, dead tree at the edge of the crater.
FWOOSH!
The tree instantly erupted into a column of flame, turning from wood to ash in a matter of seconds. Ben's—or rather, the fiery creature's—eyes widened. "Whoa." He took another step, and a patch of dry grass under his foot ignited. He looked down at his flaming feet and then at the rapidly spreading fire. The last vestiges of his bewildered amusement evaporated, replaced by a cold, dawning horror.
"Oh no. No, no, no!" He tried to stamp out the flames, but each step only created new ones. His clumsy, panicked movements were making everything worse. The small fire he'd started was now a hungry, crackling blaze, climbing the side of the crater and greedily consuming the dry underbrush of the forest floor. The smell of burning pine filled the air.
Miles away, in a small forest ranger station nestled at the edge of the woods, a dispatcher was about to end her shift. Suddenly, a red light on her console began to blink urgently. A call came through from the central watchtower.
"Dispatch, this is Watchtower Gamma. We have a smoke sighting. Looks like a fast-spreading fire originating near the old meteorite crater from ten years ago. It's moving quick."
The dispatcher was instantly all business. "Copy that, Gamma." She pressed a large red button on her console, and a klaxon alarm blared through the station. "All units, all units. Wildfire reported at Sector 7-G. Dispatching fire and emergency personnel immediately." Within minutes, the sounds of sirens sliced through the tranquil forest as fire trucks and police all-terrain vehicles sped down the dirt access roads, their lights flashing against the trees.
The fire was a roaring monster now. Heatblast—for that is what he was, a blast of pure heat—was trapped in a ring of his own accidental creation. The smoke was thick, stinging his eyes even through the flames that served as his face.
"Okay, don't panic, don't panic…" he chanted, his voice trembling. "You're a fire guy! You should be able to stop this, right?"
He focused, thrusting his hands towards the blaze. Instead of extinguishing it, a torrent of fresh fire erupted from his palms, feeding the inferno and making it surge even higher.
"WRONG! Definitely the wrong thing to do!" he yelled.
It was then that the first of the emergency vehicles arrived. A police ATV skidded to a halt at the edge of the clearing, its headlights cutting through the smoke. Two officers leaped out, their expressions hardening as they saw the towering figure of flame standing in the middle of the fire.
"Dispatch, we have eyes on the source!" one officer shouted into his radio. "It's not natural! We have what appears to be a villain with a fire-based Quirk. He's humanoid, composed of rock and flame. Repeat, we have a villain on site. Requesting immediate Hero backup!"
"Hey! Wait! I'm not a threat!" Heatblast called out, taking a step towards them.
"Freeze! Stay right where you are, monster!" the other officer yelled, raising a specialized rifle. "Shut up and put your hands where I can see them!" A small, high-velocity projectile shot past Heatblast's head with a sharp zip. A paralysis round. They weren't trying to talk; they were trying to subdue him. They thought he was a criminal.
Panic, pure and absolute, took over. He wasn't Ben Tennyson anymore. To them, he was a monster who had set the forest on fire. He turned and ran, plunging deeper into the dark woods.
"He's on the move!"
The police ATVs roared to life, chasing after him. Every step he took left a glowing, fiery footprint on the forest floor, a perfect trail for them to follow. The trees around him seemed to lean in, their branches like grasping claws. The sirens wailed behind him, a sound that seemed to be chasing him personally.
What the hell is happening to me?! His thoughts were a chaotic storm. This can't be real! How do I change back? Am I going to be like this forever? A monster?
He could hear the ATVs gaining on him. He had to do something. He had to get away. He looked down at his hands, at the fire he could now summon at will. He had made a mess with it, but maybe… maybe he could fix it with it, too.
He skid to a halt in a small clearing, turned to face the direction of his pursuers, and focused. He gathered all the energy, all the fire he could feel churning inside him, and directed it downwards. A massive jet of flame erupted from his feet, scorching the earth and kicking up a cloud of dirt and ash. He was airborne.
The force of the blast launched him into the night sky like a rocket. The forest canopy rushed up to meet him and then fell away below. For a glorious second, he was flying, the cool night air a shocking contrast to his own internal heat. He looked down and saw the flashing red and blue lights of his pursuers shrinking into the distance.
But his control was non-existent. He began to wobble, his trajectory unstable. He pinwheeled his arms, trying to correct his course, but he was a stone, not a bird. His flight ended as abruptly as it began. He came crashing down through the canopy of another part of the forest, snapping thick branches as he fell, and landed in a heap in a tangle of bushes.
A loud, insistent beeping sound suddenly filled the air. A brilliant red light flashed from the hourglass symbol on his chest. The same violent, transformative pressure washed over him, but in reverse. The fire receded, the rock crumbled away, and his body shrank, reforming into something smaller, softer, and infinitely more familiar.
Ben Tennyson lay panting on the forest floor, his school uniform singed and covered in soot. The Omnitrix on his wrist was now a glowing, angry red. He barely had a moment to catch his breath before he heard the sound of approaching engines. The two police officers on their ATVs burst into the clearing, their headlights sweeping across the area. They saw him—a small, scared boy, struggling to his feet.
"Hey, kid! Are you okay?" one of them called out, slowing his vehicle.
Ben's mind raced. He had to think fast. "Y-yeah," he stammered, putting on his most convincing scared-kid act. "I saw it! It was this huge, scary man made of fire!"
The officers exchanged a look. "Which way did he go?" the other asked, his voice urgent.
Ben pointed in a random direction, deeper into the woods. "He—He went running that way! Behind those big trees! He was moving super fast!"
"Got it. Thanks, kid. Get out of the woods, it's not safe here!" With a nod, the officers revved their engines and sped off in the direction Ben had pointed, their sirens fading into the night.
Ben waited until their lights were completely gone. Then, a long, shaky breath escaped his lips, a sound of profound relief. "Finally…"
He collapsed back against a tree, his body aching and exhausted. He slowly lifted his left arm and stared at the watch, its red light casting a crimson glow on his face. The questions came flooding back, now heavier and more terrifying than before. He whispered into the silent, watchful forest, "What was that?"