Omnitrix In MCU

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Unknown Location

Nick Fury leaned back in his chair, his one good eye narrowing as he processed the report. The command room hummed with low chatter and the steady rhythm of equipment, but his focus was locked on the holographic display in front of him.

"So, let me get this straight," Fury said, his voice calm yet razor-sharp. "We've got a ghost who sends anonymous tips to the NYPD, dismantles a group of Kingpin's men without harming a single victim, erases every shred of their digital footprint, and vanishes without a trace?"

Maria Hill stood at attention, her expression composed. "That's correct, sir. Whoever they are, their methods are precise. The tech used to scrub the data is advanced—far beyond what local law enforcement or standard criminals could pull off. No fingerprints, no energy signatures, nothing."

Fury's gaze shifted to the footage playing on the screen. Officers escorted rescued civilians to safety, their faces a mixture of relief and bewilderment. The camera briefly caught a glimpse of the figure's glowing green eyes and the self-driving motorcycle speeding away before static consumed the feed.

"Green eyes and a bike that drives itself," Fury muttered. "Sounds like something out of Stark's rejected prototypes."

Hill's brow furrowed slightly. "Or cutting-edge tech on par with Stark Industries, sir. Whoever they are, they've got access to resources and expertise at the highest level."

"And you're telling me we've got nothing—no leads, no ID, no breadcrumbs?" Fury asked, his voice low but firm.

Hill hesitated. "Not yet, sir. This vigilante operates with military-level discipline. Their motives seem tied to stopping Kingpin, but beyond that, we've got nothing to connect them to any known groups or individuals."

Fury leaned forward, the glow of the screen reflecting in his one good eye. "Keep digging. Whoever this ghost is, they're in my city now, and I don't like mysteries—especially ones that move this quietly."

Hill nodded. "Understood, sir. We'll find them." She turned sharply and left the room, leaving Fury alone with his thoughts.

He stared at the frozen frame of the glowing green eyes on the screen. "You want to play the invisible hero?" Fury muttered to himself. "Fine. But everyone shows their hand eventually, and when you do—I'll be there."

Ben's Villa

Ben groaned as he shifted in bed, his body protesting every movement with sharp pangs of pain. "Ugh, this feels worse than gym class," he muttered, trying to sit up but immediately regretting it.

Baymax's calm, soothing voice filled the room. "Sir, your discomfort is a residual effect of the TNT explosion. While your alien transformation absorbed the majority of the impact and the Omnitrix protected you from permanent harm, the force still caused temporary muscular strain."

Ben winced. "Man, they don't show this part in the cartoons. Ben 10 always made it look so easy—blasting through explosions, falling off cliffs, fighting aliens. But this... this is brutal."

Baymax's screen blinked as if processing his words. "The animated portrayals may lack accuracy or exaggerate the protagonist's physical resilience. Additionally, you may possess a lower pain tolerance than the original."

"Thanks for the pep talk, Doc," Ben muttered, lying back down with a grimace. "Why didn't you wake me up earlier?"

"You received calls from your peers earlier this morning, but I deemed you unfit to respond. It is now 12:03 PM. You have missed school, but your recovery was prioritized."

"Great," Ben groaned, rubbing his temples. "What did they want?"

"They likely inquired about your absence," Baymax replied. "Several messages also expressed concern for your well-being."

Ben sighed heavily. "I'll deal with that later. What's the damage report on my bike and suit?"

Baymax's tone shifted to an analytical mode. "Your bike sustained superficial damage during its aquatic entry and exit. Repairs have been completed, and upgrades to improve its underwater performance are underway."

"As for your suit, minor tears at the seams and damage to the external plating were noted. Its waterproofing is insufficient for extended submersion. Upgrading materials and seals is recommended."

Ben nodded, wincing at the movement. "Add that to the list. And next time I'm about to face a TNT explosion, give me a heads-up to duck or something."

"Understood, sir," Baymax replied.

Ben smirked faintly despite the ache. "Reporters must be all over the NYPD trying to get details."

"Correct," Baymax said. His holographic display flickered to life. "Here is a summary of the situation:

Local authorities, including the NYPD, are under intense scrutiny. Captain George Stacy has been a key target of media questions. Federal agencies are investigating but lack concrete leads due to the erasure of all traces. Politicians are divided, with some calling for stricter surveillance to prevent unauthorized interventions, while others praise the anonymous tip that saved lives. Social media is ablaze with speculation. Videos of the glowing bike and green eyes have gone viral. Hashtags such as #EmeraldGhost, #HellKitchenSavior, and #GreenMystery are trending. Criminal networks are in disarray. Intercepted communications reveal Kingpin is furious and has ordered internal investigations. Many of his operatives now refuse to work in Hell's Kitchen, fearing a repeat of the incident."

Baymax paused. "The consensus is clear: the so-called 'Emerald Ghost' is viewed as a powerful force. Public opinion leans positive, but governmental and criminal entities see this as a disruption to be addressed."

Ben chuckled softly, his smirk widening. "So I've got everyone guessing, huh?"

"Indeed, sir," Baymax replied. "However, I recommend caution. Increased attention may lead to unintended complications."

Ben's smile faded as he nodded. "Yeah, I know. Let's keep it low-key for now. But they should know—I'm just getting started."