[TENNYSON RESIDENCE – NIGHT AFTER THE FIRST TESTS]
The porch light was on when I got home. Even from a distance, I could hear voices. Laughter. And the smell of pizza... lots of pizza. My stomach — which had completely forgotten about hunger thanks to the day's adrenaline — made sure to remind me that I hadn't eaten in hours.
"Ben !!"
Before I could even open the gate, Gwen had already thrown the door open and hugged me tightly. I nearly fell backward, but she held on tight.
"YOU WERE AMAZING ! First place, Ben ! FIRST PLACE !"
"Careful, Gwen — my ribs are still intact, and I'd like to keep them that way…"
She laughed and let go. She was radiant, her eyes sparkling with pride. And then, as if she couldn't contain herself, she snapped her fingers discreetly and small violet sparks of energy danced across them.
I raised an eyebrow.
"You have a Quirk ?" I asked, confused — though deep down I already knew what those violet sparks really meant.
She made an overly dramatic face and quickly closed her hand.
"Yep ! Of course ! A late bloomer — rare, but within statistical norms!"
"Sure, sure… and I'm All Might."
"You're more hard-headed than he is, that's for sure."
We walked in together. The living room was packed — my parents, Gwen, several open pizza boxes on the table, soda bottles everywhere, and a handmade banner that read: "HERO #1 !"
My dad raised his glass and shouted, "TO THE BEST FIRST PLACE U.A. HAS EVER SEEN !"
"THAT'S MY BOY !" my mom added, hugging me and pushing a slice of pizza into my hand at the same time. "Now eat. This is hero fuel !"
"Pizza and pride — great diet," I murmured, smiling.
We stayed there for a while, laughing, eating, going over every detail of the tests. Gwen mimicked Bakugou blowing up a robot and everyone burst out laughing. My dad compared my score to old record-holders like a sports commentator. My mom kept snapping photos, saying it was "to capture every second."
But after a while… I quietly slipped out the back door.
The night air was cool and silent. I sat on the porch steps, staring at the starry sky. It was one of those nights where the world feels calmer than it deserves to be.
Heavy footsteps approached.
"Knew you'd be out here," said my grandfather, sitting beside me with two steaming mugs.
"Tea ? I thought it'd be coffee."
"Tonight's for breathing. Tomorrow, you run again."
I took the mug. Silence for a moment.
"You were amazing, Ben," he said.
"I still don't know if I'm a real hero…"
"What does it mean to be a hero? Shouting 'I'm the best' ? Wearing a cape ? Flashing fake smiles on TV ? Or is it getting up after every fall and choosing to protect, even when everyone thinks you can't?"
I stayed quiet.
He nodded toward the sky with his chin, the tea still steaming in his worn hands.
"See that one ? The brightest star."
I followed his gaze.
"Yeah… looks kind of lonely."
He nodded slowly.
"That's the North Star. Back in the day, sailors used it to find their way. When it was all sea and darkness, that star told them where to go."
I stayed silent, eyes on the sky.
"So why are you telling me this ?"
He took a deep breath, like he was searching for the answer in his own memory.
"Because you remind me of it. You seem alone in all this sometimes… but still, you're steady. Constant. And even when you don't realize it, people will find their way just by watching you shine."
I turned my head slowly, looking at him.
"Grandpa… I don't even know where I'm going."
He gave a half-smile.
"Neither does the star. But it still guides."
"Grandpa… what if I screw up ? What if I hurt someone ?"
I asked, the same flood of questions rushing through my mind since I first got these powers.
He placed a hand on my shoulder.
"You can't save everyone, son. You're just human — a kid. If something happens, we'll hold the line. Together."
Funny… I think he already suspects what I've been hiding.
I closed my eyes. For the first time that day, I allowed myself to just... exist. No test, no transformation, no pressure. Just me. Ben. Sitting next to my grandpa. Under the stars.
The silence had lasted a few minutes. Just the distant sound of a cricket and the steam rising from the tea between us. I gripped the mug tightly, hands sweaty, heart pounding like I owed an apology for every word I hadn't yet said.
"Grandpa…" my voice came out lower than I wanted. "There's something I… need to tell you."
He didn't respond. Just looked at me. Calm. As always.
"One day, coming home from school, I took a detour…"
He nodded once.
I swallowed hard. The words stuck like every syllable was a step toward something I couldn't take back.
"A capsule fell from the sky. Like a… satellite, but it wasn't. It was… alien."
I glanced at him. No reaction. Not even a raised eyebrow.
"There was something inside. A kind of robotic mosquito. Glass wings, a stinger… like a mix between an insect and a war drone."
My hand trembled slightly on the mug.
"It recognized me, Grandpa. Said my last name. Said… 'Tennyson detected. Beginning assimilation.'"
I closed my eyes for a second. The memory of the stinger piercing my neck still made my skin crawl.
"It attacked me. Injected something… then exploded. But not before doing… something to me."
I lifted the hair at the back of my neck and turned slightly to show him.
"This showed up right after. Circuits. Like an implant. They… glow. Pulse. When I transform."
He leaned in slightly. Looked at the mark with care. But not surprise. Just… caution. Like someone revisiting something forgotten, not discovering something new.
I sat back down normally.
"Since that day… I've started changing. Transforming. Into alien beings. Eleven so far."
I gave a dry laugh.
He exhaled slowly. Then finally spoke:
"Not everything. But enough."
I turned to him, confused.
"What do you mean ?"
He looked up at the sky, as if drawing strength from the stars before continuing.
"Ben… I recognized your transformations from the first video your mom sent me. Those bodies, the eyes, the energy. I've seen it all before. Long before you were born."
He took a sip of tea and rested the mug on his knees.
"It's time you heard some truths. Things your family never knew. Things the world can't even imagine. I'm not just old Max Tennyson, the guy who makes great BBQ and knows how to change a tire."
He looked straight into my eyes.
"I am — or was — a Plumber."
Now the silence was different. Denser. Electric.
"Plumber ?" I frowned. "Like… fixing pipes ?"
I asked, doing my best not to reveal I already had a hunch.
He chuckled. "That's what we tell civilians. But no. The Plumbers are an intergalactic secret force. We patrol and protect planets — including Earth — from alien threats, illegal tech, species trafficking, and anything that endangers the balance of the universe."
My eyes widened.
"You… were like a space cop ?"
"More or less. But without a shiny badge or recognition. Just responsibility. And a whole lot of danger."
He pointed at my neck.
"What you have… is an interface. Advanced alien biotech. And if that mosquito injected you… then you're carrying something that goes far beyond any Quirk, Ben."
I sat there, trying to process it all. The forest. The pain. The transformations. That first punch with Four Arms. And now… this.
"So… you knew all along ?"
"I suspected. Just wasn't sure how — or when — it would find you. But now that it has… it's part of you. And that means you'll have to make hard choices. More than just saving people from debris or winning exams."
"Why ?" I asked in a whisper.
"Because what's inside you… is part of something much bigger. And if it's what I think it is… they'll come. Others. Some who want to use you. Others who want to destroy you. And some… who'll want to recruit you."
I went quiet for several long seconds.
"So what do I do, Grandpa ?"
He gripped my shoulder tightly.
"You keep being you. Ben. Stubborn, curious, kind-hearted. And strong. But now… with a new burden. A new gift. And maybe… a legacy."
"A Plumber legacy ?"
"A Tennyson legacy."
[EARTH ORBIT]
Floating in the absolute darkness of space, the conqueror's ship sliced through Earth's orbit like a metallic scar across the skin of the universe.
Its hull was black as pitch, marked with inscriptions in extinct languages and adorned with external blades that shifted as if breathing, responding to the slightest change in the surrounding environment. It was a living fortress — a technological abomination of war and survival.
Inside, the atmosphere was lit only by pulsing green and red lights from alien control panels. Steam hissed from ducts in rhythm with engines far too ancient to have been crafted by human hands. The command bridge resembled the interior of a living organism: tense, breathing, whispering.
Servants of various species — all cyber-augmented — worked frantically at floating spherical consoles. Mechanical arms rotated, translucent screens projected routes, readings, and electromagnetic pulses.
At the center of the command hall, seated on a throne carved from the remains of a conquered planet, sat Vilgax.
Imposing. Silent.
His crimson eyes burned in the dim glow of the bridge, watching the planets turn below. His metallic claws rested on the arms of the throne, but his muscles — covered in organic plates and living armor — vibrated with contained frustration.
The galaxy's conqueror, destroyer of empires, was growing impatient.
"Status." His voice echoed like muffled thunder — deep and merciless.
One of the servants — a short creature with translucent skin and limbs far too thin for its body — bowed, trembling.
"My lord... we... picked up a signal. Weak... but stable. Coming from the planet's surface. From the capsule."
Vilgax's eyes narrowed. The throne groaned as he leaned forward.
"What took you so long ?"
"The humans… have evolved, master," stammered the servant, fingers shaking as it manipulated the holo-map of Earth. "Since your last presence on the planet… they've developed countermeasures. Interference, anti-scan fields, tracking weapons. A-and... now with their... genetic peculiarities — these 'quirks' — the planet itself has become a tangle of chaotic energy signatures."
Vilgax rose.
The shadow he cast over the servant was enough to make the creature collapse to its knees.
"They were nothing but insects…" he growled, his voice heavy with disdain. "Fragile. Useless. Animals with fingers."
His eyes turned to the blue planet spinning slowly below.
"And now... they build barriers. They defend themselves with mutations and science. They dare to dream of things they cannot comprehend."
He walked slowly toward the panoramic visor of the ship. Below, Earth shone. Beautiful. Blue. Alive.
Vilgax scowled, as if the planet's very brightness offended him.
"But none of them... none of them is worthy of what fell there."
He clenched his fists.
"The capsule held more than technology. It carried the seed of an empire. My algorithms. My genetic war lineage. My ultimate weapon."
He turned sharply toward his servants.
"Find the host. Now."
The servants leapt back to their controls, terrified.
Vilgax returned to his throne, his eyes never leaving Earth.
"If someone touched my legacy... if some pathetic creature dared to fuse with what is mine…" his teeth clenched, jaw muscles tightening.
"…then this Earth will burn. Even if I have to tear it apart, continent by continent."
The ship vibrated softly, as if it could feel its master's fury. A deep, distant rumble echoed through the corridors — the sound of engines awakening, of invasion systems powering up.
And from the depths of cosmic darkness… the predator returned to the hunt.