# 📖 *Ben 10: The Lost Years*
**Episode 7 – Parent‑Teacher Trouble // Enemy of the Syndicate
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### **POV: Ben — The Office Dungeon**
Ben hated bounty hunters, sure. Hated raiders. Hated the Syndicate.
But nothing made him sweat like three adults and a pile of paperwork.
Principal Shaw loomed across the desk, folder open like a charge docket. Ms. Dalton stood stiff at his side, clutching one of Ben's notebooks — the one full of doodled alien circuits. And Sandra Tennyson, his mom, sat next to Ben with narrowed eyes sharp enough to pierce Kevlar.
Every battle scar suddenly burned worse.
"Benjamin," Shaw began, grim as a funeral, "Your attendance is appalling. Your absences unexcused. Your explanations… nonsense."
Ben drummed fingers, smirking. "Funny. I thought nonsense was part of the curriculum."
His mom hissed, "Benjamin Kirby Tennyson."
Oops. Mom‑voice. Scarier than Skrall.
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### **POV: Ms. Dalton — Frustration**
She shoved the notebook forward. "You expect us to believe you *just doodled* this?" Circuits, structural schematics, half‑written equations beyond high‑school physics.
"This is advanced engineering, Mr. Tennyson. Where does a fourteen‑year‑old pick this up?"
Ben didn't blink. "Pinterest?"
Dalton flushed red. "Do NOT mock this board, young man—"
Ben leaned back, raising eyebrows. "Okay, fine. You got me. It's TikTok tutorials."
Sandra buried her face in her hand.
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### **POV: Ben — Internal Monologue**
Alright, Spark, save me here… Think. Quick parry, fast step, hit pride, roll out. Fighting school staff wasn't about fists; it was about *tone.*
So he sighed dramatically. "Truth is… I fall into dumpsters a lot."
Principal Shaw sputtered. "Dumpsters?!"
Ben shrugged. "Dangerous lifestyle. You'd be amazed what's down there. Jagged edges, pizza boxes, apparently alien schematics."
Sandra glared daggers.
Ben grinned sheepishly. He'd faced axe‑armed raiders without blinking. Somehow this sweat on his brow was worse.
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### **POV: Sandra Tennyson — A Mother's Fear**
It was more than sass. The bruises, the absences, the way he toyed with discipline like it was a weaker opponent — something was happening to her son. Something nobody was telling her.
He was hiding. And growing sharper by the day.
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### **POV: Argit — Vent Commentary**
Up in the ceiling vent, Argit munched on contraband fries swiped from the cafeteria. His ears twitched gleefully as he watched Ben roast his educators.
"Pfft," Argit muttered. "This is better than any Syndicate trial. Kid's basically humiliating authority for fun now. He's either gonna run the galaxy or detention."
He flinched as Ms. Dalton smacked a desk for emphasis. "Oh yeah. Terrifying stuff."
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### **POV: Principal Shaw — Conclusion**
He snapped the folder shut. "Ben, one more disappearance and your privileges are revoked. Suspension. Understood?"
Ben smirked, saluting lazily. "Crystal clear, boss."
Sandra finally exhaled in exhaustion.
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### **POV: Ben — Hallway Exit**
Leaving, Ben rubbed his wrist's half‑healed rope burn under hoodie sleeve. He caught his mom's worried glance. He almost wanted to spill the truth — about Skrall, Argit, colonies calling him savior.
Instead, he grinned like an idiot. "All good. Totally normal."
She shook her head with a sigh.
And then, from behind a trashcan, Argit popped up, ears twitching. "Not normal. Emergency. Big one."
Ben groaned. "Let me guess. Syndicate?"
Argit squeaked. "…Triple your bounty. And operatives en route. Yay teamwork!"
Ben adjusted his backpack, grin curling sharp. "Cool. Guess homework waits."
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## 🚀 **Transition — Argit's Shuttle**
The junkyard reeked of oil that night. Argit's shuttle hissed and sputtered before lights snapped alive.
"You *cannot* keep making enemies of entire empires!" Argit wailed as they lifted.
Ben shrugged. "I don't. They just keep volunteering."
Argit flopped over the copilot seat. "We are going to die. Tell your planet you dragged me here."
Ben stared forward, Spark purring under his ribs. "Nah. We're gonna win. Like always."
Stars streaked. They were gone.
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### **POV: Crime Syndicate Enforcer — Boarding**
Kroll and Dren stormed down the Syndicate boarding tube. Armor thick, weapons hot. The Watchless One inside that shuttle wouldn't laugh long.
"Objective?" Dren asked.
"Break him. Deliver him." Kroll's teeth gleamed cruel.
Connection slammed. Hatch blew. They entered.
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### **POV: Ben — The Trap**
Ben was waiting in the dim cargo bay. Just a kid. Hoodie sleeves pulled, hands loose at his sides. Calm as ever.
"Well," Ben said lazily. "Looks like detention ended early."
Kroll raised a blaster. "Mock us again, human."
Spark pulsed. Ben felt the rhythm of their impatience, the exact second they'd lunge. He smirked.
"Pop quiz. Question one: How do you guys look dumber than Earth cafeteria food?"
They roared forward.
And Ben kicked a loose pipe.
Barrels rolled free. Magnets snapped. Rifles yanked sideways into the walls. The enforcers slammed into scattered junk like slapstick giants.
Ben twirled a bent conduit rod like a sword, grin devilish. "Answer: physics."
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### **POV: Argit**
Argit flailed, ears flattening as chaos erupted. "He TRAP‑RIGGED the janitor closet! Who does that?!"
Blasters flew. Enforcers tripped. One banged skull against cargo rail.
And Ben? Laughing. Fully, savagely laughing.
Argit whispered, terrified: "He's not a boy. He's a storm."
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### **POV: Syndicate Enforcers**
Humiliation burned like fire. Every strike missed. The human predicted steps before they moved. He dodged like foresight, mocked crueler than cuts.
"You pass for thugs?" Ben called between strikes. "At least Earth bullies know how to aim!"
Pipe cracked. Helmet clanged. Kroll dropped.
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### **POV: Galactic Tavern Gossip — Later**
"They say he turned a Syndicate ship into a maze. Tricked enforcers like toddlers."
"They call him the Trickster Human now."
"No weapon. Just wit. Dangerous."
And the legend spread.
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### **POV: Ben — Aftermath in Shuttle**
Breathing hard, pipe heavy in hand, Ben grinned as the enforcers retreated humiliated.
"This is fun," he muttered.
Argit wheezed. "No! This is doom! BEN TENNYSON, YOU HAVE AN ENTIRE EMPIRE ON YOUR BUTT!"
Ben patted his shoulder. "Relax. Makes me popular."
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## 🌍 **Return to Earth**
The shuttle slipped back to Bellwood's night. Ben trudged to school the next morning, hoodie soot‑smeared, hair wild, pipe still in backpack.
Classmates saw only a kid yawning.
Marty whispered, "What'd you do last night, man? You look dead."
Ben smirked, eyes heavy. "Just saved the galaxy from bad posture."
Ms. Dalton eyed him. Bruises. Smirk. Still doodling alien schematics. Her suspicion deepened.
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### **POV: Ben — Closing Beat**
By day: the lazy kid, nuisance in class.
By night: the Watchless Trickster, humiliating Syndicate killers.
Ben stretched in his seat, Spark humming under ribs, grin sly as ever.
"Dual lives," he whispered so nobody heard. "Not bad for detention material."
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