Ben Tennyson in the MCU

November 27th, 2024 – New York City, Earth 5554 Prime Universe

Ben opened the door to his apartment, dropped his keys and hard hat onto the table, and sighed wearily after another frustrating day at work. Dealing with entitled, clueless colleagues had made the day even more grueling.

And yes, he referred to his colleagues as kids—their loud, immature behavior made it clear they had never fully grown up. How else could so many fully grown adults be so oblivious to how the real world worked?

He grabbed a bottle of water from the kitchen, drinking it down in one go, feeling slightly relieved. But as he glanced around his shabby apartment, anxiety crept in. Inflation was soaring, and the rising costs of food and rent were eating away at his income. He could manage for now, but only by dipping into his meager savings.

He had only been working for 18 months, managing to save up considerably some thans to his side hustle. Yet even that felt like an accomplishment compared to his peers, most of whom were just starting university. The country was in a financial crisis, with an elderly president and an ineffective vice president. Chaos in the streets—from vandalism to traffic disruptions—made daily life an endless struggle. Sometimes, he felt an overwhelming urge to punch the people responsible. Worse still, politics and ideology had tainted entertainment, turning once-beloved industries into factories of uninspired, failing projects.

What frustrated him even more was how obvious it was to anyone with common sense that none of this was profitable. And yet, entertainment companies kept churning out flop after flop, pushing out trash while expecting audiences to pay for it.

Thinking about it all gave him a headache. He exhaled sharply and muttered under his breath, "If anyone's out there listening, save me from this madness. Otherwise—"

"Otherwise, you're afraid you'll die young from stress. Is that what you were going to say, Mr. Stewart?"

Ben froze. His eyes widened as an unfamiliar voice interrupted his thoughts. Instincts kicking in, he grabbed a kitchen knife and assumed a fighting stance. Eight years of intense boxing and karate training had pushed him far beyond the standard black belt level. But even with his skill, he knew better than to act recklessly.

He kept his gaze locked on the two figures standing before him. He wasn't foolish enough to make a move—not when he was outnumbered and had no idea how many more intruders could be lurking. For all he knew, either of these two could be armed.

One of the men immediately caught his attention—a striking resemblance to the late, great Stan Lee. The other was a middle-aged man dressed in an unusual, medieval-style lab coat adorned with brown and black pouches, gold trim, and gold buttons. Underneath, he wore a black turtleneck, a white scarf, and a brown vest. A pair of goggles rested around his neck, while a metallic gauntlet—likely a disguised device—covered his right hand, and a fingerless glove adorned his left.

Ben's mind raced. Were these two here to rob him? The strange attire suggested otherwise, but the situation was too bizarre to make sense of.

Even with his years of training, getting mortally wounded wasn't out of the question. He clenched his jaw, maintaining his stance.

"Well then," the older man said, smiling apologetically. "It seems we've unduly frightened you, young Stewart. However, we must apologize for what comes next, I'm afraid."

"Afraid of what—?"

Before Ben could finish his sentence, the Stan Lee lookalike raised a hand. Instantly, his vision blurred. A wave of darkness swallowed him before he could react.

As his consciousness faded, he heard the old man's voice one last time.

"I'll gift you something to aid you in your future travels. I hope it serves as an apology as well."

Then, nothing.

Ben blinked. His heart pounded in his chest as he found himself standing—now back on the streets of New York City. The world around him felt too vivid, too real to be a dream.

But none of this made sense. Had he been drugged? Was this some kind of government experiment?

For years, he had jokingly imagined that secret agents were keeping tabs on him. Was that actually happening now? Was he about to be recruited as a spy?

No. He shook his head. Get a grip. He couldn't afford to lose his mind right now. His imagination was running wild—probably from watching too much anime.

He forced himself to take a deep breath, grounding himself in reality. Or at least, whatever version of reality this was.

Ben first glanced down at his feet. The first thing he noticed was that he was wearing shoes now—something he definitely hadn't been wearing before he blacked out. His pulse quickened. He took a deep, steady breath, trying to remain calm while scanning his surroundings. The strange lookalikes—Stan Lee and the man who had called himself Paradox—were nowhere in sight.

Trying to steady his thoughts, he raised his wrist, expecting to see his familiar silver Casio digital watch. Instead, his eyes widened at what he was actually looking at.

The Omnitrix.

Not a cheap knockoff, but a sleek, modern version of the alien tech from the original Ben 10 cartoon. The design was cooler, slimmer. The black and gray band hugged his wrist snugly, and the green hourglass emblem glowed faintly, almost mocking him.

"Is this a joke?" he muttered, his voice trembling as people around him shot him curious glances. His mind reeled, trying to juggle his confused thoughts, but he couldn't just stand there gaping like a madman in the middle of the street.

"Okay, let's go somewhere more convenient to think things through," he told himself, earning another strange look from a passing pedestrian.

He ducked into a nearby library, seeking the comfort of something familiar—a computer, something that might give him answers. His dabbled in software programming from an early age to support himself. He wasn't the biggest expert in the field, but he could still land a decent desk job at any of the five big GAFAM companies if he wanted to.

Finding a the computer, Ben quickly sat down an uneasy feeling crept over him. The machine in front of him was outdated—ancient, even—but he tried to shake off the discomfort. It didn't matter. He moved the mouse, and the screen blinked to life, illuminating the room with a soft glow. His eyes darted to the corner of the screen, and then his breath caught in his throat.

The date: Sunday, November 1st, 2009.

His pulse spiked. That couldn't be right. His hands trembled as he clutched the mouse, his heart pounding with growing panic. He quickly opened the browser and frantically began searching the internet. The Google homepage loaded, but it was a relic—a blast from the past. Every website, every news article, every single search result confirmed the same thing: 2009.

No matter what he searched or where he clicked, nothing changed.

He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. This couldn't be real.

Desperation gnawed at him, and he turned to the girl sitting next to him, catching a glimpse of her red hair out of the corner of his eye. He had to ask.

"Excuse me," he stammered, "could you tell me the date?"

She barely glanced up from her phone, giving him an annoyed look. "It's on your screen. Sunday, November 1st, 2009. You blind or something?"

Her words hit him like a punch to the gut. His heart felt like it stopped.

This wasn't just some glitch. This was real.

He wasn't just in another place, another situation. He was in another time.

His mind scrambled to make sense of it, but the pieces were already falling into place. As he continued talking to the girl—Irina, she called herself—and searched even deeper, something even crazier started to click.

This wasn't just 2009.

This was the Marvel Universe.

Ben stared at the screen, his thoughts racing as the truth became undeniable. The Captain America, Hydra? Real. 'News Headline Tony Stark rescued from the desert of Afghanistan by United States Air Force soldiers, lead by Colonel James Rhodes.'

'Tony Stark Is Iron Man' Ben read through an online news report on the computer monitor screen. Showcasing a picture of both Tony Stark, who looked identical to Robert Downey Jr. And Colonel James Rhodes, looked like identical Don Cheadle.

This wasn't just a dream or some elaborate prank—he was in the Marvel Universe. A world of superheroes, villains, and catastrophic events that could tear him apart in an instant.

He exhaled slowly, his breath unsteady. "Okay… what now?" he muttered under his breath. There was no family waiting for him back home, no friends to return to. But staying here? Surviving in a world like this? That was an entirely different challenge.

Then his gaze dropped to his wrist, and his heart skipped a beat. The Omnitrix. The alien-powered device was right there, strapped to his wrist. How had he forgotten about it? More importantly, was this the real deal?

His pulse quickened. If it was genuine—and it certainly looked like it—then he wasn't just some random guy anymore. In this world, with this kind of power... maybe things weren't so bad after all.

Steeling himself, he slipped out of the library and into a nearby alley. His mind was spinning with possibilities, but before making any moves, he needed to confirm what he was dealing with. The Omnitrix could be his greatest advantage, but only if it worked the way he remembered.

Crouching behind a rusted dumpster, he took a deep breath and pressed the dial. The device responded instantly, a tower rising from its face, the black silhouettes of various aliens flickering across the display. His fingers hovered over the selection, his eyes widening in both disbelief and excitement. Jetray. Swampfire. Rath. Brainstorm. Ten aliens, each a potential key to survival.

A slow grin spread across his face. This was real.

"Now then," he murmured, scrolling through the options. "Who's our first contestant?"

His finger stopped on Brainstorm. Perfect. Intelligent, arrogant, and most importantly—brilliant. If he was going to navigate this world, he needed every advantage he could get.

He waited until the sun dipped below the skyline before finding a secluded spot. Then, with a steadying breath, he slammed the Omnitrix down.

The transformation was instant. His limbs elongated, his skin hardened into an orange, crab-like exoskeleton, and his head expanded to accommodate a mind far superior to any human's. The sensation was exhilarating. His thoughts—usually scattered—were now razor-sharp, each idea branching into a hundred others at blinding speed. He could see solutions to problems he hadn't even considered before.

Bloody hell, he thought, marveling at his own intelligence. He could actually feel his ego inflating with every passing second.

Catching his reflection in a broken mirror, he studied his new form. His face bore a permanent, menacing frown, his glowing green eyes giving him an intimidating presence. Sharp spikes jutted from his head, and the Omnitrix emblem gleamed from his forehead. His three pairs of spindly limbs twitched with anticipation.

He had to shake himself out of his admiration. Focus. He had a plan.

"Right then, step one: new identity," he muttered, his voice now carrying Brainstorm's thick British accent. "Step two: blend in."

Breaking into the library's locked office was effortless. His pincers snapped through the lock like it was made of paper. Inside, the glow of the computer monitor cast eerie shadows as he got to work. Hacking the U.S. identity database was laughably simple. Using the details from his memory, he created a fresh identity:

Benjamin Stewart Tennyson. Born in Texas, July 23, 1991. Height: 1.88m. Weight: 180 lbs. Eyes: Green.

A birth certificate, driver's license—just enough to establish a digital footprint. It wasn't perfect, without any real physical documents which he could forge easily but, for now, it would do.

"There we go. A legal, living person—well, digitally speaking," he said smugly, admiring his handiwork. "I exist here now."

He slipped back into the night, reverting to human form. As he walked through the dimly lit streets, his mind buzzed with plans—more than he could fully process in his regular state. With the Omnitrix on his wrist, he had everything he needed to not just survive here, but to thrive. He had future knowledge, power, and now, an identity.

There was nothing left for him in his old world. But here? In this universe of gods and monsters?

He smiled, letting the cool night air wash over him.

"Let's see what I can really do with what I've been given."

The shift back to human form felt almost disappointing. His body felt sluggish, his thoughts dulled compared to the sharp precision he had as Brainstorm. It was like going from driving a sports car to riding a bicycle. He couldn't help the pang of frustration, but he did walk away with something useful—his understanding of hacking had improved. Not nearly at the level of what he pulled off as Brainstorm, but now, at least, he could grasp the basics of what he had done.

That was something.

And it was only the beginning

His thoughts remained fixated on the Omnitrix's time-out function. Azmuth, the genius creator of the device, had implemented it for a reason. According to fan theories he had once read, some speculated that prolonged transformation could cause alien DNA to permanently merge with the user's own. But that never seemed like the whole truth. After all, Ben 10,000—the future version of the original Ben—could remain transformed for days without switching back.

That alone suggested something deeper. The addictive nature of power was an undeniable factor. Experiencing the world through the senses of another species, each with strengths beyond human comprehension, could easily make someone forget who they were. There needed to be a cooldown, a period of readjustment, to prevent the user from losing themselves.

The real reason for the time-out made more sense to him now. The Omnitrix had the potential for universe-altering power. If it could store such immense energy, why would it need a recharge period as weak as an iPhone battery? No, this wasn't just about energy limitations—it was a safeguard. A way to ensure that the user didn't become too reliant on their transformations, to stop them from abandoning their human self completely.

Still, the device was bonded to his DNA. That was how it functioned. It stored alien genetic material, but his own human DNA was the foundation—his reset point. Even if there were risks, he doubted he would become permanently stuck in an alien form. However, that knowledge wasn't entirely comforting.

Speculation was fine, but there was no need to test it just yet. There were more pressing matters at hand.

After ensuring no one had seen him leaving the library, Ben stepped out into the cool evening air. The city pulsed with life around him—horns blaring, people rushing past, neon signs flickering overhead. Unlike other fictional settings, Marvel's world was deeply rooted in reality. That meant navigating New York wouldn't be too difficult. He had studied maps, watched countless movies, and played enough video games set in the city to have a decent understanding of the layout.

His first priority was finding a place to stay. A cheap motel would do for now—somewhere discreet, where he could lay low and plan his next moves. With no money and no contacts, this was going to be tricky. Still, he wasn't just some random person stranded in another universe. He had the Omnitrix, knowledge of future events, and an entire world of untapped opportunities at his fingertips.

Fortunately, he had already set up financial backing for himself. While hacking into a bank to create an account wasn't exactly legal, he had only withdrawn what had originally existed in his personal savings before being transported here. At least he didn't have to start completely from scratch.

As he walked through the familiar streets of New York, a strange sense of unease crept in. The city felt a little too clean. It was subtle, but noticeable—a world that was almost, but not quite, like the one he had known before.

It took a few hours to secure a room in a rundown motel. After withdrawing some cash, he paid for a few nights upfront. The amount wasn't much compared to what he had in his account, but it was enough to keep him off the streets while he figured things out.

By the time he entered the room, it was already 11:45 PM.

The place wasn't terrible, but it wasn't exactly comforting either. The cheap furniture, flickering ceiling light, and stained wallpaper painted a clear picture of the kind of establishment this was. He glanced at the bed and shuddered. It was probably paranoia, but knowing what kind of activities usually took place in motels like this didn't help his nerves.

He didn't bother undressing beyond kicking off his shoes and jacket before collapsing onto the mattress. Exhaustion overtook him almost instantly.

When he woke up the next morning, sunlight filtered through the dirty blinds, and for a brief moment, he thought it had all been a dream. But as soon as his gaze landed on the Omnitrix, still secured to his wrist, reality settled in.

Shaking off the grogginess, he forced himself out of bed and into the bathroom. He had no toiletries, no spare clothes—nothing to start the day properly. All he could do for now was splash cold water on his face.

At least he wasn't completely broke. With $25,000 in his account, he had enough to get by for a while. Still, he needed a real source of income. Living off stolen—or rather, reclaimed—funds wouldn't last forever. Besides, he had no intention of becoming some broke, crime-fighting superhero. He wanted to enjoy life with as much stability as possible.

That didn't mean he wouldn't intervene if he saw a crime happening in front of him. If there was an opportunity to help while also making some quick cash, he wouldn't hesitate. After all, he wasn't naive enough to ignore the realities of this world. He had no intention of becoming someone like the Punisher or Deadpool, indiscriminately killing his enemies. But he also wasn't about to let himself be shackled by blind idealism.

At that moment, his stomach growled, pulling him from his thoughts.

He left the motel and headed to a small diner he had passed the night before. The moment his plate of pancakes arrived, he devoured them with an appetite that turned a few heads. He caught a couple of curious glances aimed at his left wrist. Even though this version of the Omnitrix was slimmer than the original, it was still bulky enough to attract attention—especially with its bright green hourglass symbol.

After polishing off his first plate, he ordered another, finally feeling satisfied by the time he finished.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, he decided to head out and buy some essentials.

Then—

BOOM.

The ground trembled beneath his feet. The unmistakable sound of an explosion erupted in the distance, sending a massive plume of smoke billowing into the sky.

All around him, people froze in place, their gazes locking onto the source of the destruction.

Ben let out a slow breath, already feeling a headache forming.

"Seriously?" he muttered under his breath. "Is this some kind of plot convenience?"

Despite his complaints, his body was already moving, his fingers hovering over the Omnitrix dial.

Like it or not, he was in the Marvel Universe now. And that meant trouble was never far behind.

//////

Character Bio

NAME:

Benjamin Alexander Stewart (Formerly)

Benjamin Stewart Tennyson (Current)

HOME WORLD:

Earth 5554 (Formerly)

Earth 2000089 (Current)

RESIDENTS:

New York Manhattan

AGE:

18 (As of Time of Story)

HEIGHT:

6 foot 1(1,83 cm)

OCCUPATION:

Superhero/ Vigilante

Mechanical Engineer/Civil engineering

Programmer (self-taught)

Entrepreneur

ABILITIES:

Enhanced Eidetic Memory

Freestyle Hand-To-Hand Combatant

Advance Marksmanship

Spontaneous Learning/Understanding

EQUIPMENT:

Omnimatrix/ Omnitrix (restored original prototype)

////

TRANSFORMATION

BRAINSTORM:

A Cerebrocrustacean from the planet Encephalonus IV. Brainstorm is among Ben's smartest transformations. He can also generate electric shocks from his claws and exposed brain.

BRAINSTORM/SPECIES:

Cerebrocrustacean

HOME WORLD:

Encephalonus IV

DNA SOURCE:

Unknown

BODY:

Crablike

ABILITIES:

Electrokinesis

Electromagnetic Levitation

Electric Telekinesis

Force-Field Generation

High Intellect

Mnemokinesis

Sharp Pincers

Underwater Breathing

Wall Scaling