# đź“– *Ben 10: The Lost Years*
**Chapter 2 – Shadows and Rumors (Expanded Edition)**
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### **POV: Argit**
Argit had worked the back halls of half a dozen spaceports, and he could swear every one of them smelled the same: cheap oil, spilled blood, and fried mystery‑meat. A perfect perfume for making money.
He sat at the corner of a shadow‑drenched bar at Seltrax Station, propping up the counter with a mold‑berry cocktail that had more fungus than fizz. His big ears twitched as he listened to the conversations around him. Pirates, smugglers, bounty brokers — all of them got loud when they were drunk, and Argit was nothing if not an ears‑on profiteer.
He wasn't the biggest. He wasn't the strongest. But nobody could overhear like him.
Tonight, his ears were making him rich.
"…human boy," growled a thick‑voiced Krellian pirate at the next table.
Argit's left ear swiveled like a radar dish.
"…they say he ditched the weapon," another replied.
Both ears shot up now. *Weapon? Human boy?* There weren't a lot of humans in the galactic spotlight. Probably — no, definitely — meant that human.
Benjamin Kirby Tennyson.
The pirates leaned in close, their scaly faces glistening in the neon light.
> **Pirate One:** "He had it once. That gauntlet. The shape‑changer. The Omnitrix."
> **Pirate Two:** "Yeah, yeah, but not anymore. Kid tossed it. Doesn't matter, bounty's still fat."
> **Pirate One:** "Vilgax put the price. Vilgax never forgets an insult."
Argit nearly dropped his glass. Vilgax. Oh, he had heard of Vilgax's grudges — the guy collected them like fine artwork. If Ben Tennyson humiliated him, then yeah… bounty money made sense. Big bounty money.
Argit grinned, tongue sliding over his sharp teeth. *Well, well. A legend without a weapon is still a legend. And legends can be monetized.*
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A plan formed immediately. He wouldn't just sell out Ben's location. No, too obvious. Too risky. Instead, Argit would swoop in, play the role of loyal "ally," and insert himself into the boy's story. He'd *become* essential. And when the time came? He'd turn that trust into credits.
Every angle covered. Totally foolproof. Just like the last twelve—okay, eleven—schemes that *mostly* worked.
He drained his glass, slapped the counter, and squeaked in delight. "Alright, Argit, baby. Time to see what the mudball planet's cooking."
Destination: Earth.
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### **POV: Ben**
Bellwood, USA. Approximately twelve trillion times less colorful than the places Ben had been in his Omni‑summer.
Ben was walking home from his first week back at school, dragging his sneakers across the sidewalk, listening to the sound of normal life. Barking dogs. Car brakes. A lawnmower down the street. Boring. Safe.
His backpack hung heavy with homework. Equations. Reading logs. Teachers trying to cram "ordinary academics" into the head of a kid who'd once wrestled Chronosapiens and talked down warlords.
It was like shoving fireworks into a shoebox and pretending they wouldn't go off.
Ben muttered, "Yeah, sure, I'll just forget the galaxy exists. Easy."
That's when a shadow moved in the mouth of an alley.
"Bennnnnnnny Boy Tennyson!" a nasally voice called.
Ben froze mid‑step. The figure that waddled forward into the light was...wow. Furry. Buck‑toothed. Giant ears fidgeting like satellites. Tail curling like it had a mind of its own.
Ben blinked. "Uh. Okay. Either someone lost a rodent from the science lab, or I'm hallucinating. Spoiler: neither's a good option."
The rodent slapped his chest. "Name's Argit! Entrepreneur! Connections across the galaxy!"
Ben deadpanned. "…Yeah, no. You're not suspicious at all. Totally trustworthy vibe. Definitely don't look like you eat wallets."
Argit's smile faltered. "Excuse me, that's incredibly offensive! I don't eat wallets. Leather upsets my stomach."
Ben tilted his head. "So you just steal them?"
"…Maybe," Argit mumbled.
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### **POV: Argit**
Argit had expected panic. Or awe. Or at least some *gratitude* at his sudden offer of help. Instead, this human brat radiated suspicion like a crime‑scene floodlight.
He cleared his throat, smoothing his fur down anxiously. "Look, word is bounty hunters are already en route. Big, scary ones. Blade arms. Bad tempers. And unless you've got that watch hidden in your sock, you're defenseless."
The kid's smirk sharpened.
"So your big pitch," Ben said slowly, "is that I should trust the extremely shady rat‑thing who just crawled out of my local alley, *because the galaxy still hates me*."
"Yes! Wait—no! Yes?" Argit squeaked. Why was this so much harder than scripted in his head? Normally chumps were eating from his paw after ten seconds. This boy was skewering him alive right away.
He flailed his arms. "The universe whispers your name, kid! Tennyson, the boy who defied Vilgax! The Watchless One!"
Ben rolled his eyes. "Ugh. That sounds like a lame Saturday morning cartoon spin‑off."
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### **POV: Skrall – Orbit**
Up above atmosphere, Skrall's hunter craft cut dark lines through Bellwood's upper sky.
Scanner locked. Target: Benjamin Tennyson. No Omnitrix visible. Accompanied by small, rodent‑humanoid. Easy prey.
Skrall's scarred lip lifted in a smile. Today, his honor would be restored.
He began descent.
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### **POV: Marty – Ben's Classmate (Earth Civilian View)**
From across the neighborhood, Marty Henshaw thought he saw Ben arguing with… a giant squirrel.
He blinked, rubbed his eyes. Nope. Still there. Talking squirrel. Ben looked annoyed yet weirdly at ease.
Marty shook his head and muttered, "I seriously need to drink less soda."
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### **POV: Ben**
Argit was still yammering about his "connections" and "value," but Ben tuned half of it out. That itch — that crawling electric prickle in his chest — had come back. The Spark. It hummed harder and harder, like static under his ribs.
And then the sky darkened.
Shadows loomed across Bellwood's rooftops as a ship cut across the late afternoon sun. Black armored hull. Heavy cannons. Predator silhouette.
Argit looked up and shrieked, "Oh stars, it's already here!"
Ben? He just clenched his fists, cracked a faint grin, and muttered, "Showtime."
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### **POV: Argit**
"No, no, no!! That's Skrall! Skrall the Skullhunter! He'll cut us into collectible pieces!" Argit wailed, tail fluffing like static.
Ben calmly adjusted his backpack strap. "Relax. He doesn't know what he's in for."
"You're way too cocky for someone without a super‑watch!"
Ben smirked sideways. "Or maybe I'm just way too good at making guys like him look stupid."
"Stupid?!" Argit squealed. "He's nine feet tall with axe‑blades for arms!"
Ben's grin widened. "Better target practice."
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And as Skrall's landing thrusters screamed down, shaking the cul‑de‑sac and scattering kids and civilians into panic, Bellwood had no idea it was about to host the opening salvo of Tennyson's legend.