Before the rain could touch the ground, it wailed.
*Sizzle—*
White steam exploded inside the dark Queens alley, forming an eerie fog unique to this single spot.
The massive hand of magma and obsidian hovered in midair.
Golden-red plasma flowed through the lines of its palm, the ambient temperature spiking with every pulse.
Leon surveyed the world through burning eye sockets.
What was once a pitch-black rainy night appeared in his vision as a bright infrared thermal map, while light-green streams of data cascaded down the edges of his retinas like a waterfall.
[Form: Pyronite (Heatblast)]
[Threat Level: High Risk]
[Environmental Analysis: Humidity 98%.
Rain reduces firepower output by 15%.]
[Tactical Recommendation: Annihilation.]
He didn’t need the system to tell him.
The power within this body was an active volcano; the desire to destroy was etched into its genetic sequence.
“M-Mutant!”
The thug leader holding the gun finally snapped out of his stupor.
Reason screamed at him to run, but his legs felt nailed to the asphalt.
Warm wetness flooded his pant legs, but the foul liquid dried instantly in the blistering heat, leaving only a pungent stench of ammonia.
“I asked you a question.”
Leon stepped forward.
The puddles boiled.
The asphalt softened into mud, leaving scorched footprints behind.
“Which hand?”
His voice sounded like grinding rocks—tyrannical and low.
The thug leader tremblingly raised his revolver—his only remaining lifeline, even though the metal was so hot he could barely hold it.
“Satan!
You’re Satan!
Die!!”
He pulled the trigger.
*BANG!*
Fire spat from the barrel.
What happened in the next second terrified the thug to his very core.
The bullet, capable of shattering a skull, touched the fiery monster and melted like wax dropped into a blast furnace.
The copper bullet melted completely.
A single drop of glowing red liquid copper dripped onto Leon’s chest with a *splat*.
“Wrong answer.”
Leon tilted his head.
His burning face possessed no features, yet a terrifying sneer seemed almost tangible.
“If you won’t choose, I’ll just take both.”
*BOOM!*
A half-meter-wide torrent of flame erupted from his right palm.
This was no ordinary fire.
It was a stream of high-pressure plasma hot enough to melt through solid steel.
The thug leader didn’t even have time to scream.
Swallowed by the pillar of fire.
Water vaporized, flesh and bone carbonized.
One second.
The flames collapsed inward.
Where he had stood was now only a human-shaped scorch mark and the melted slag of a firearm.
The stench of charred remains and ozone filled the air.
Dead silence.
Ben Parker slumped on the ground, his clouding old eyes reflecting that flaming silhouette, his mind a complete blank.
Was this Leon?
The boy who slept in, stole slices of pizza, and scratched his head over failing grades?
“Aaaaagh!”
Their mental defenses shattered.
The thug with the knife knocked over a dumpster as he turned and fled, scrambling on all fours.
The other skinny, ratty thug holding a switchblade was scared out of his wits, terror breeding a desperate madness.
“Stay back!
Stay back!”
He yanked out a backup pistol and frantically emptied the clip with his eyes squeezed shut.
*Bang!
Bang!
Bang!*
Until the hammer clicked on empty chambers.
Leon didn’t move an inch, letting the bullets melt and drop away as liquid copper.
On his chest, the Omnitrix symbol flashed green, pulsing rhythmically.
[Warning: First transformation.
Physical strain at critical threshold.]
[Time remaining: 10 seconds.]
“Time to end this.”
Leon spread his fingers.
“No…
I was forced into this…” The skinny thug collapsed to his knees, tears and snot streaming down his face.
“I have kids…
Don’t kill me…”
Leon’s movement paused for half a second.
Not out of mercy.
But because he saw his father, Ben.
The old man was struggling to stand, his eyes filled with pure terror.
Under normal circumstances, Leon would have hesitated.
But right now, he was Heatblast.
The Pyronite genetic code knew no mercy—only purge.
Besides, when the gun was pointed at his father’s head moments ago, this bastard had laughed the loudest.
“In your next life, be a good man.”
*Whoosh—*
A fan-shaped wave of fire swept across.
The kneeling thug instantly turned into a living torch, rolling on the ground and screeching with ear-splitting shrieks.
Moments later, he was reduced to a shriveled hunk of charcoal.
[Forced Cooldown.]
The wild power receded like a tidal wave.
The intense heat dissolved, and the freezing rain rushed back in to fill the void.
*Zzzzt—*
Red sparks crackled as the magma body collapsed, reverting back into a flesh-and-blood human form.
“Ugh…”
An agonizing exhaustion swept through his marrow.
Leon’s vision went black, and he collapsed straight backward.
The rain was ice-cold.
Is it over?
Dad…
should be safe now.
His consciousness cut out.
Yet fate always loved to rub salt in the wound.
The third thug—the one who had run off first and hidden behind the dumpster—poked his head out.
He was just the lookout, the smallest coward who ran the fastest.
Seeing the fiery demon vanish and revert to an unconscious teenager, extreme terror transformed into the foulest greed and murderous intent.
“Monster…
If I just kill you…”
The coward crawled out trembling.
The old man was severely injured and immobile.
The little monster was knocked out.
This was his chance!
Kill the monster, steal the watch, and that power will be mine!
His features twisted with manic greed.
He scooped up a switchblade and stumbled toward the unconscious Leon.
“Die, you little bastard!”
The blade glinted coldly, aimed straight for Leon’s neck.
Ben Parker saw it.
The gunshot wound in his right shoulder throbbed with excruciating pain; blood loss made his head spin.
But he saw the blade.
That was his son.
He had taught this boy to ride a bike, taught him to tie a tie, taught him to be an honest man.
“No…”
A beastly snarl tore from Ben Parker’s throat.
At this moment.
Morality, law, the teachings of God.
All of it could go to hell.
Only one thing remained in the entire world—
Protect his child.
Right as the point of the blade was about to pierce down—
A blood-soaked shadow tackled forward.
Ben Parker wrapped his good left arm tight around the thug’s neck, both of them slamming hard into the filthy water.
“Let go of me!
You old bastard!”
The thug slashed wildly, carving bloody gashes into Ben’s arm.
Ben Parker felt no pain.
His eyes were bloodshot, frighteningly red.
His right hand was crippled.
But he still had his teeth, and he still had his head.
*Thud!*
He drove a brutal headbutt right into the thug’s nose.
The crack of bone was sickeningly clear.
The thug shrieked, dropping the blade.
Not enough.
Ben Parker’s hand clawed frantically through the muddy water.
His fingertips brushed against something cold, hard, and rough.
Half a red brick.
Common construction trash found everywhere in Queens.
Right now, it was the holiest scepter in a father’s hands.
“Don’t touch…
my…
son!!!”
Ben Parker roared, hoisting the brick high.
*CRACK!*
The brick smashed ruthlessly into the thug’s temple.
The thug’s body jolted violently, his eyes rolling back.
He didn’t stop.
*CRACK!*
A second blow.
He wasn’t moving anymore, only twitching involuntarily.
*CRACK!*
A third blow.
Blood mixed with gray matter splattered across Ben Parker’s face—warm and metallic.
*CRACK!
CRACK!
CRACK!*
Once, twice.
The dull thuds echoed through the rainy night.
Ben Parker was like a rusty yet feral machine, mechanically lifting his hand and driving it back down.
Expressionless.
Only his eyes were terrifyingly bright—and terrifyingly hollow.
Until the face beneath him turned into a bloody pulp.
Until the brick in his hand crumbled into dust.
Only then did he stop.
“Haa…
haa…”
His gasps sounded like a broken bellows.
Ben Parker tossed away the brick dust, his hands shaking uncontrollably.
Looking down at the unrecognizable corpse, his stomach churned violently.
He had killed a man.
Ben Parker—the harmless old mediator who stepped in whenever neighbors argued.
He had used a brick with his own hands to smash a human head into a crushed watermelon.
But he didn’t throw up.
He turned his head and looked at the unconscious Leon.
The boy was alive.
That was all that mattered.
Even if he dragged his soul to hell, even if he danced before Satan, as long as this child lived—
he, Ben Parker, was willing to rot in prison forever.
“Leon…”
Ben Parker crawled over, using hands covered in red and white gore to gently cradle Leon.
The rain kept falling.
Washing away blood, but unable to wash away tonight’s sin.
…
Forest Hills, Queens
The light inside the Parker house remained warm, an isolated island amidst the raging storm.
“It’s pouring out there.
I wonder if the movie Ben and Leon saw was any good…”
She muttered to herself, glancing at the clock on the wall.
*BANG!*
The front door burst open.
Damp, freezing air swept in carrying the stench of blood, instantly dispersing the cozy aroma of fresh baking in the living room.
“Dear God!”
The teacup in May’s hand shattered on the floor.
She looked at her blood-soaked husband, then at Leon lying motionless, her face turning instantly deathly pale.
“An ambulance!
I’ll call—”
“No!”
Ben growled with the last of his strength, slamming the door locked.
He collapsed against the doorframe, sliding down the wood while tightly shielding Leon in his arms.
“Listen to me, May.”
Ben’s voice was hoarse, filled with a severity and panic she had never heard before.
“Pull the curtains.”
“Lock the doors.”
“Tonight, no one left this house.”
“Just now…
Leon changed.”
Ben’s voice quavered as he pointed to the strange watch on Leon’s wrist.
“He turned into…
a fire monster.
He killed those muggers.
Burned them to ash in an instant.”
May gasped, her hands flying to her mouth, pupils shrinking.
Instinctively, she looked at Leon on the sofa.
The boy was pale, brow furrowed as if caught in a nightmare.
But the black-and-green device on his wrist looked shockingly out of place in their cozy living room, radiating a cold technological feel and an ominous sense of danger.
“Are you saying…
a mutant?” May’s voice dropped to a whisper, as though afraid of disturbing ghosts outside the window.
“I don’t know what it is,” Ben shook his head, rummaging through a medical kit for arterial forceps and gauze.
“But I know that if we take him to a hospital, once doctors see that unremovable watch and his condition…
we’ll never see him again.”
May took a deep breath.
As a housewife, she displayed astounding resilience at this moment.
It was maternal instinct—to protect her child, even if forced to face hell itself, she would stand in front without hesitation.
She wiped her tears, quickly locked the front door, and drew the curtains tight.
“I’ll boil hot water and get scissors,” May said, her voice still trembling slightly, yet regaining composure.
“You go to Old George’s clinic.
He’s your battle buddy from the service; he’ll keep his mouth shut.
But before that, we have to clean the blood off this boy.”
“And Peter.”
“Where’s Peter?”
Ben panted heavily, his eyes scanning vigilantly toward the second floor.
“In his room, wearing headphones and doing experiments,” May whispered, tears brimming in her eyes even as her hands nimbly cut open Leon’s scorched sleeve.
“We can’t let Peter know about this under any circumstances,” Ben said grimly.
“He’s too young and too naive.
He can’t keep a secret.”
May nodded.
Picking up the scissors, she stepped over to the sofa and meticulously cut away Leon’s charred shirt.
As the scissors brushed against the rim of the watch, the device seemed to react, flashing a faint pulse of green light.
May’s hand trembled, but she gritted her teeth and stripped away the remaining fabric.
Outside, thunder boomed.
Lightning sliced through the night sky, illuminating the living room in stark, pale white.
Right then.
The Omnitrix on Leon’s left wrist suddenly stopped blinking.
The original red face slowly shifted into a deep, pitch black.
Deep within the face where no one could see, an imperceptible line of alien script flashed briefly:
[DNA Database: Unlocked.]
[Host Vital Signs: Stable.]
[Current Mode: Recharging.]
On this rainy night, the Parker couple made a decision that would forever alter the destiny of their family.
They were going to take this secret to the grave.
Even if the cost was dancing with the devil.
Ben Parker looked at his unconscious son, gazing at that youthful yet unfamiliar face, and muttered softly:
“No matter what you’ve become…
you’re still my boy.”
And in his deep slumber, Leon had no idea—
those two charred corpses were merely the very first footnote he had carved into this Marvel universe.
An era belonging to him.
At this moment, the curtain officially rose.