# đź“– *Ben 10: The Lost Years*
**Episode 12 – Recruit or Rogue? (~2,650 words)**
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### **POV: Earth – Morning School Run**
The early bell rang, and Ben Tennyson was sprinting across Bellwood streets like his shoes were on fire. Backpack one strap loose, hoodie half zipped, scuffed BMX rattling under him.
To everyone else, it was a junker bike. Bent spokes. Rust flecks on handles. Squeaking whenever he pedaled.
To Ben, he felt its hum under his ribs. The **Morphic Titan** was alive. Patient. Disguised.
"C'mon, buddy," Ben muttered under his breath as he hit a corner. "Don't transform in front of Ms. Dalton. She'd assign a research paper."
The bike purr‑buzzed, almost teasing.
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### **POV: Ms. Dalton**
She caught sight of Tennyson coasting into the bike rack. That ridiculous, rattling piece of scrap he always rode.
She muttered: "That thing's unsafe. Half the town has better bikes at garage sales."
She eyed Ben as he bolted inside late. Always tardy. Always suspicious. Yet… always scribbling designs in notes beyond anything she understood.
Trouble. But trouble disguised as a dozing kid.
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### **POV: Ben – After School**
Ben hopped his "bike" toward the junkyard. He'd planned to sneak Titan back into shuttle form and bolt star‑side for a patrol.
Instead, something shimmered in the air. A warp‑ripple.
A tall, armored figure dropped from distortion: **Magister Labrid.** Plumber veteran.
Ben froze. "…Grandpa Max's friends aren't usually this dramatic."
Labrid's voice rumbled. "Benjamin Tennyson. Max's grandson. You've been reckless. But stories say otherwise. The Plumbers want to know if you're… recruit material. Or a rogue."
Ben tilted his head. "Can I say both?"
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## 🚀 **Transition to Space**
### **POV: Labrid**
The boy's sarcasm grated, yet there was something behind it: sharp eyes, boxy confidence. Rumors floating about him whispered fire.
Now he saw the shuttle shimmer into form from a disguised bicycle — crimson shifting plates, molten seams alive.
Labrid's jaw clenched. "That… is NOT human tech."
Ben smirked. "What, you don't like my BMX upgrade?"
The vehicle hummed, Spark responding steady.
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### **POV: Mission Brief**
Task: intercept Syndicate smugglers running plasma weapons through asteroid docks. Quiet mission. Low exposure. Prevent escalation.
Simple. Except for three problems:
- A sarcastic human brat.
- His semi‑sentient morph‑chariot.
- And, lurking already, a green‑skinned Incursean princess with gold crown glinting…
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### **POV: Princess Attea**
Attea perched within the smugglers' control tower, amphibian eyes narrowing. Sooner or later, she'd bait Ben into embarrassing himself.
She purred at Syndicate goons: "Let the human think he's clever. When he falls, my empire claims the spoils."
Her claws traced steel. That Titan‑vehicle he rode? Should be hers. She'd wear it like jewelry.
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### **POV: Ben – Titan Shuttle Dock**
Titan swooped sleek into dock shadow. Ben slipped out, pipe ready. He whispered, "Stay cool, buddy. Low‑profile."
Titan purred louder. Panels twitched like a cat's tail swinging.
Syndicate thugs appeared. Blasters up.
Labrid barked, "Protocol is capture, not jokes, Tennyson."
Ben raised eyebrows. "Really? You cut my best jokes quota. Unfair."
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### **POV: Spark Instincts – Battle**
The Spark surged. Ben ducked left before a blast even triggered — pipe cracking against a control node. Sparks popped, sealed doors slammed. Raiders screamed.
"Push right!" Ben called, already leading Labrid's unit into ambush net.
Titan unfolded behind him like origami — plating shuddering, shifting into **ground tank form.** Barrels roared. Shock cannons slammed Syndicate hovercraft into walls.
Labrid's jaw hardened. This wasn't a recruit. This was a chaos engine.
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### **POV: Princess Attea – The Clash**
Attea stormed onto the field.
"You dare fight in my court, human pest? That Titan is not yours!"
Ben, pipe against shoulder, smirked. "Funny. It seems to like me better than you. Guess it has good taste."
Titan unfolded wings into shuttle form suddenly, covering Ben as Attea flung shock grenades.
She screamed, "It answers a brat instead of a princess?"
Ben laughed through smoke: "You keep yelling princess like it's a magic word. Pro tip: crowns don't come with universal remotes."
Tetramand laughter echoed in his memory.
Attea's jaw clenched. *Spark curse him. Spark curse his smirk.*
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### **POV: Labrid – Observation**
Labrid slashed through smugglers, but part of him only stared.
This wasn't luck. The way the Titan warped *with* the boy's Spark sense. How he directed fire by instinct. One pulled him, the other moved — symbiotic bond unlike anything he'd seen.
Recruit… or rogue? This boy was something else.
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### **POV: Ben – Victory**
He orchestrated the collapse, Spark whispering when to duck, Titan tanking grenades, rebels dropping Syndicate thugs one after the other.
Attea shrieked retreat, vowing murder and crown.
And Ben, dust‑covered, turned to Labrid: "See? Perfectly quiet mission. No fuss at all."
Labrid groaned.
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## 🌍 **Earth Close – Comedy Dual Life**
The next morning, Morphic Titan sat chained to Bellwood's rusty bike rack, disguised again as a squeaky BMX.
Gary flicked it with a finger. "Wow, Tennyson. Even your *bike* is pathetic."
Ben, nursing a bruise under his sleeve, smirked: "Yeah. Guess I'm allergic to style."
Gary laughed. Walked off.
Titan's hum purred softly under Ben, only he heard. Consumed ships one night. Ridiculed as junk yard bike the next.
Dual life? Intact.
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### **POV: Galactic Gossip Montage – Epilogue**
– "The Watchless One rode his Titan into Syndicate fortress."
– "Even a princess of the Incurseans could not command it."
– "Plumbers test him now — but fear him."
Title shifted, spreading wider: **"Rider of the Shifting Titan, Rogue General."**
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✨ **Episode 12 ✨
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