Omnitrix In MCU

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As Ben zipped through the dark streets of Hell's Kitchen on his glowing green bike, he leaned forward and spoke into his helmet's communication system. "Baymax, send an anonymous tip to George Stacy with the recordings and photos."

"On it, sir," Baymax's calm voice replied.

The streets blurred past as the bike approached the dockyards. Baymax's holographic avatar appeared on the HUD inside Ben's helmet. "Sir, from the drones' scans, I've detected movement. They are preparing to start transporting the containers."

"Show me their exact positions," Ben instructed, his voice cold with determination.

As Ben neared the target building, the HUD lit up with thermal overlays, highlighting the positions of armed guards and the containers inside the structure. Every movement was tracked, giving him a tactical advantage.

At the building, the guards were on high alert, patrolling and scanning their surroundings. One of them, stationed on the rooftop, squinted into the distance. A faint glow was approaching rapidly, growing brighter with each passing second.

"Hey, what the hell is that?" he muttered, grabbing his radio. "Sir, there's… there's a glowing bike coming this way—without a driver!"

The leader of the operation, standing by the containers, grabbed his own radio. "What are you babbling about?"

"It's a bike, sir! No driver! It's just… coming on its own!"

Confused and irritated, the leader marched to the edge of the platform to see for himself. His eyes widened at the sight of the eerie, green-glowing bike racing toward them. "What are you idiots waiting for? Shoot it down!"

The guards scrambled, pulling out their weapons and opening fire. Bullets sparked as they ricocheted off the bike's sleek armor, its surface shimmering with a reactive shield. The bike zigzagged unpredictably, avoiding direct hits, its glow cutting through the chaos like a phantom.

The leader barked into his radio again, "Take it down! I don't care how! Just stop that thing!"

But the bike only accelerated.

As Ben's bike roared into the middle of the chaos, the gunfire momentarily ceased. The gangsters frantically began changing their magazines, their hands shaking with panic. Seizing the moment, Ben activated the bike's next trick.

From hidden compartments in the bike's body, thick plumes of smoke began to hiss and billow out, rapidly filling the surrounding area. The smoke wasn't ordinary—it was laced with a disorienting agent that caused coughing and blurred vision. The gangsters started yelling in confusion.

"Don't breathe the gas!" one of them screamed, covering his face with his sleeve.

"What is this?! I can't see a thing!" another shouted, stumbling backward.

The once-organized group descended into chaos, bumping into each other and blindly firing into the thick haze. Their leader cursed under his breath, trying to regain control, but it was too late.

In the middle of the commotion, Ben emerged from the bike. His helmet, equipped with advanced thermal vision, displayed the gangsters' heat signatures clearly through the smoke. The glowing green eyes of his helmet were the only thing visible in the choking fog, an intimidating specter amidst the chaos.

Ben dashed forward, his movements swift and calculated. Before any of the gangsters could react, he struck. The first man turned his head just in time to see the eerie green glow of Ben's helmet before a powerful punch sent him crumpling to the ground.

The others barely had a chance to comprehend what was happening. One by one, they were met with the same fate—a glowing pair of green eyes, a flash of movement, and a crushing blow to their faces or bodies.

"Where is he?!" one of the gangsters yelled, swinging his weapon wildly.

Another dropped to his knees, coughing and clutching his face. "It's like a ghost! I can't see anything!"

Ben moved like a shadow, his strikes precise and relentless. In the smoke-filled chaos, he was unstoppable—a phantom that disarmed, incapacitated, and dismantled the gang with ruthless efficiency. Each takedown was swift, leaving no room for retaliation.

By the time the smoke began to clear, the gangsters were either unconscious or too disoriented to fight. Ben stood among the chaos, his glowing helmet the last thing they saw before their world went dark.

The leader heard the sirens, The leader's confidence wavered as dread overtook him. "No... the cops?!" he muttered. Panic twisted his face. "The NYPD can't find out about this—or Kingpin will kill me!

The leader's trembling hands clutched a small remote as his fear turned into desperate defiance. "Their deaths are on you," he hissed, pressing the button.

Ben froze, his mind racing. Before he could say a word, Baymax's calm but urgent voice came through his helmet.

"Sir, there are TNT explosives under five containers. The timer is set for 10 seconds."

Ben's eyes widened in disbelief. "10 seconds?!" he exclaimed. "Damn it! Baymax, throw the smokes!"

From his bike, a new wave of smoke erupted, enveloping the area once again in a dense, disorienting fog. Just as the smoke began to rise, the distant sound of NYPD sirens pierced through the night. The flashing red and blue lights illuminated the edges of the scene, growing louder and brighter by the second.

The leader's confidence wavered as dread overtook him. "No... the cops?!" he muttered. Panic twisted his face. "The NYPD can't find out about this—or Kingpin will kill me!"

Ben clenched his jaw, knowing the stakes had just risen even higher. Raising his wrist, he activated his Omnitrix. The device's circular face lit up, casting a green glow in the smoky darkness. Frantically, Ben scrolled through the alien forms on the interface, his heart pounding. He stopped on one—XLR8.

"Please don't fail me now," he muttered, slamming down the dial.

The Omnitrix surged with green energy, enveloping Ben in a vibrant flash. His body began to morph, shifting and adapting in a blur of light. His legs extended and became sleek, resembling the powerful limbs of a velociraptor, designed for extreme speed. His torso slimmed and hardened into a streamlined, armored form, while his arms became clawed and sharp. A sleek, blade-like tail extended from his back, and his helmet transformed into an aerodynamic headpiece with a visor-like mask.

When the light faded, XLR8 stood in Ben's place—a lithe, black-and-blue alien with a powerful, speed-enhancing exoskeleton. His glowing green visor pulsed with determination, and the faint hum of his body's kinetic energy filled the air.

"Baymax, mark the containers!" XLR8's voice was distorted but carried urgency.

On his visor, holographic markers highlighted the locations of the five TNT-laden containers. Without hesitation, XLR8 sprang into action. His legs buzzed like engines as he dashed forward, the world around him slowing to a crawl.

To XLR8, time felt like it was frozen. Every second was stretched infinitely, giving him a chance to think, plan, and act with precision. The faint blinking of the timer on the explosives felt agonizingly slow as he zipped through the area.

With his razor-sharp claws, XLR8 slashed at the cables connecting the detonators to the explosives, one by one. Sparks flew, but he didn't stop.

"That's one… two… three…!" he counted, each movement faster than a human eye could track.

As he worked, the NYPD sirens grew louder, the screeching of tires signaling the arrival of backup. Officers exited their vehicles, weapons drawn, as they scanned the smoky chaos in confusion.

"Lock down the perimeter!" one officer barked, unaware of the alien blur speeding through the scene.

In the blink of an eye, XLR8 reached the final container. "Four… and five!

As XLR8 reached the fifth container, his visor displayed the timer ticking dangerously close to zero. He slashed at the wires with precision, but just as he finished, the TNT detonated in a fiery explosion. The shockwave hit him full force, flinging him backward through the air.

He spiraled uncontrollably before crashing into the river with a loud splash, the explosion lighting up the night sky behind him.

Underwater, XLR8 groaned as he floated in the murky depths. The damage from the blast overwhelmed his alien form, causing the Omnitrix to spark and emit a bright red light. A moment later, he was forcibly transformed back into his human self, his body weakened but intact.

Ben coughed, bubbles escaping his lips as he struggled to orient himself in the cold, dark water. Reaching for his communicator, he called out, "Baymax, I need the bike… now!"

Baymax's calm voice replied, "Understood, sir. Activating amphibious mode."

Back on the surface, amidst the chaos, the bike began to glow with an intense green light, drawing the astonished gazes of both the gang members and the NYPD officers. Without warning, the bike revved to life, its wheels spinning in reverse as it launched itself off the dock and into the river with a loud splash.

Underwater, Ben watched as the glowing silhouette of his bike descended toward him. The compartments on its sides opened, releasing a brief burst of light as it adjusted to its new aquatic mode. It reached him effortlessly, its frame shining like a beacon in the murky water.

Ben grabbed onto the handlebars, pulling himself onto the seat. "Let's get out of here," he muttered, tapping a command into the console.

The bike's propulsion system engaged, its rear wheels transforming into thrusters that pushed it forward with tremendous force. The water around him churned as the bike surged toward the surface.

With a final burst of energy, the bike broke through the river's surface, leaping high into the air. Water cascaded off its sleek frame as Ben gripped the handlebars tightly.

The NYPD officers on the shore froze, their jaws dropping as the glowing bike shot out of the river like something out of a sci-fi movie. It landed smoothly on the pavement, its wheels spinning for a brief moment before gaining traction.

Ben didn't give them a chance to react. With a sharp twist of the throttle, the bike accelerated, zipping past the stunned officers and gang members alike. The green glow faded into the night as he disappeared into the distance, leaving nothing but confusion and chaos in his wake.

Inside his helmet, Baymax's voice chimed in. "Are you unharmed, sir?"

Ben smirked, despite the lingering ache in his body. "Just a little shaken, Baymax. Let's head home before they figure out what just happened."

The bike roared down the empty streets, a green streak against the backdrop of the city lights.

As Ben sped through the night on his glowing bike, he exhaled deeply, the tension slowly easing. The chilly night air whipped past him, carrying away the residue of adrenaline from the explosion and the river plunge.

Inside his helmet, Baymax's calm voice chimed in, "Sir, while you are unharmed, may I recommend adding a waterproof feature to your suit for future aquatic scenarios?"

Ben chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "You're not wrong, Baymax. Next time I take an unplanned swim, I'd prefer not to feel like I'm wearing a sponge. Remind me when we get back to work on that upgrade."

"Affirmative, sir," Baymax responded. "I have added the reminder to your priority list."

Ben smirked as the glowing green lights of the bike reflected off the wet streets. "Good. I'd rather not deal with another dive without a plan B.

 "Baymax, make sure all my footage and traces are cleared. I don't want anyone tracking this back to me. Don't leave anything behind."

Baymax's voice responded instantly, calm and efficient. "Yes, sir. I have already initiated the protocol. All surveillance footage involving your presence is being erased, and digital traces from our activities are being wiped clean."

Ben nodded, satisfied. "Good. Make sure no one can connect the dots—not the police, not Kingpin, not anyone. I want to stay off their radar."

"Understood, sir," Baymax replied. "All systems indicate no residual data remains. Your anonymity is secure."