[Original Trajectory: Ben Parker dies, catalyzing the birth of a hero!]
Every single letter oozed with a high-and-mighty arrogance.
As if mocking the struggles of mortals.
A hero?
If a so-called superhero had to rise over the corpses of his loved ones, if his origin required the blood of his family as a sacrifice, then to hell with being a hero.
Marvel writers seemed to have some sick, twisted obsession.
Does an uncle or parent have to die for the protagonist to suddenly realize “with great power comes great responsibility”?
Total bull.
Ben Parker could stay alive, and Peter could still be Spider-Man.
And as for me, I can still beat those suicidal villains into the sewer—and do a damn better job of it.
“Keep your fatalistic trash to yourself,” Leon commanded coldly in his mind, his willpower cutting like a blade straight through the illusory interface.
“Give me my rewards.”
“If you’re going to call me ‘little butterfly,’ then I’ll show you the hurricane I can flap up.”
As if sensing its host’s fierce determination, the line [Plot Points Acquired: 2/10] at the bottom of his vision shattered with a crash.
The noise of the real world stripped away in an instant.
In its place was a dead silent, deep black sea.
There was no gravity, no light—only Leon’s conscious form floating in the void.
Directly ahead, three pitch-black cards floated silently.
Complex golden lines were engraved on their surfaces, intricate like miniature star maps, revolving with an ancient rhythm.
This time, there was no playful nonsense text.
Only the purest choice.
Leon didn’t hesitate for a second.
His eyes locked onto the middle card radiating a brutal, tyrannical aura, and he tapped it in the void.
*Crack.*
The black sea trembled.
The card surface fractured, blinding red light bursting across the void, accompanied by a deafening roar.
That wasn’t the howl of a beast.
It was the pure release of raw power.
The red light receded, and a hulking projection slammed onto the ground, sending ripples through the dark sea beneath.
It was violence personified.
Crimson skin like quenched steel; four massive arms defied biological logic, spread wide; every muscle bulged like granite, overflowing with an explosive aesthetic of pure force.
A black-and-white gladiator suit fit snugly over its body, and four eyes flickered with a fierce, combative gleam.
The Omnitrix symbol shone brilliantly on its broad left shoulder.
[Tetramand (Four Arms)]
A stream of golden data cascaded down beside it like a waterfall:
[Species: Tetramand]
[Origin: Planet Khoros]
[Ability Rating: Melee Destruction Grade]
[Traits: High-density body, Sonic Clap, Super Jump]
[Evaluation: The universe’s premier demolition expert.
Whether it’s wrecking buildings or breaking bones, it’s a true professional.]
[Usage Recommendation: Even though you have four hands, don’t think about using them to write four homework assignments at once—that’s a waste.
Go smash something instead!]
Looking at the projection, Leon finally felt his tense nerves relax a bit.
Four Arms.
The most classic and reliable powerhouse in the *Ben 10* series.
If Heatblast was a high-burst mage, then Four Arms was an elite tank that could both take a hit and deal massive damage.
Its skin could withstand missile strikes, its strength could lift semi-trucks effortlessly, and the combat advantages of four arms made it virtually unbeatable in close-quarters combat.
In a Marvel universe crawling with mutated freaks, nothing brought more peace of mind than absolute physical power.
Next time he ran into punks holding switchblades, he wouldn’t even need to use powers.
The sheer physical intimidation of the transformation alone would be enough to bring them to their knees in repentance.
“This is what I wanted.”
But then, he realized something was off.
“Wait, I had two plot points.
Where’s the other point?
Don’t tell me a damn capitalist system like you skimmed off the top!”
[“Who said opening a card only takes one point?
But hey, who can blame me when I’m the most merciful god who loves you most?]
[So…]
The text suddenly turned formal, taking on a subtle, holy golden radiance.
[I, the great and merciful, took the initiative to exchange your extra point into ‘Perfect Biological Enhancement Fluid.’ Don’t thank me—consider it your nutritional allowance.]
Before Leon could process what those words meant—
Giving him no time to react—
*Snap.*
A crisp snap of fingers echoed through the black sea.
His consciousness was forcefully kicked out of the space.
The moment reality returned, an indescribable wave of heat exploded inside his body.
Not a gentle warmth.
It was a dominant, ruthless surge.
His bones creaked and groaned as their density rapidly spiked.
Muscle fibers tore and reformed, becoming denser and tougher.
His heart thudded with steady, forceful beats, each pump feeling like high-purity fuel rushing through his system.
Fatigue, soreness, and that bone-deep weakness were completely incinerated.
This was a leap on a genetic level.
An evolution from a “sickly youth” into an “apex predator.”
Leon didn’t turn into an exaggerated, overly muscular meathead—his frame remained lean and sleek—but the explosive power beneath his skin was now on an entirely different level.
Following the overwhelming wave of comfort came a deep, heavy exhaustion.
It was his body’s self-preservation mechanism before completing its final calibrations.
Leon’s eyelids grew heavy, his consciousness drifting into haze.
Darkness embraced him gently.
In the split second before he completely passed out, he seemed to hear that teasing voice chuckling softly in the depths of his mind.
The voice was no longer cold text, but a playful, faintly expectant whisper:
“Sleep well, little lion.”
In the darkness, the Omnitrix dial flashed with a glint of eerie green light—like the eye of a lurking beast, quietly watching over this brand-new future.