Above the fray, Buzzshock Prime fought furiously, unleashing arcs of raw electricity as he zipped through enemy ranks. His duplicates swarmed the battlefield, frying Chitauri weapons, short-circuiting their vehicles, and disrupting enemy formations.
But the energy coursing through his body was beginning to flicker.
Then, in his earpiece, Olivia's voice cut through the noise:
"Ben, you have ten seconds left before you time out. You need to fall back—now!"
Buzzshock's glowing eyes widened. Ten seconds. That wasn't enough time to retreat cleanly—and there were still civilians exposed, still Chitauri to take down.
But Olivia was right. If he timed out mid-air, surrounded by enemies, he was dead.
Gritting his teeth, Ben made his choice.
"Got it," he muttered.
And with that, he made his final move.
****
Buzzshock Prime launched himself into a dizzying storm of electrical energy, his clones syncing perfectly, darting across rooftops, alleyways, and open streets, forming a dynamic, electrified net. They perched in strategic corners, creating a web of crackling lightning—an intricate pattern that shimmered with deadly intent.
"Olivia," Ben's voice crackled with a mischievous tone, "bring Ariana into the mix—let's turn up the voltage. I'll need some of my toys."
"Yes, boss," Olivia responded, her tone clipped but amused.
Meanwhile, inside an aircraft hangar, the two lights ignited with a fierce glow as a sleek, modified BMW M3 GTR roared to life, tires screeching against the tarmac. Racing out and toward the city its high powered engine roaring across the airfield.
Ben, in his Buzzshock armor, sped out in a blur of speed and power, heading straight for the city's chaos.
Across the skyline, Iron Man streaked through the air, a streak of red and gold cutting between skyscrapers that shimmered under the sun's glare. His Mark VII armor gleamed as he dodged plasma fire, executing tight barrel rolls to evade enemy fire.
Ahead, a squadron of Chitauri chariots tore through the clouds—sleek, jagged, and deadly. Their riders unleashed volleys of plasma bolts, raining down destruction on urban streets.
"Let's not keep the party waiting," Tony muttered, flipping open a compartment on his shoulder.
He targeted the squadron with micro-rockets, launching a barrage that exploded in a thunderous cloud of fire and shrapnel. One alien rider spiraled down in flames, debris scattering like deadly confetti.
"Sir, you're out of shoulder cannon ammo," JARVIS announced with calm precision.
"Yeah, I noticed," Tony grunted, angling upward. "Thanks for the memo, JARVIS. What's next—a handwritten letter from the weapons department?"
"Would you prefer that I include a scented envelope?" JARVIS quipped as Tony executed a tight corkscrew between falling debris.
Suddenly, more enemies emerged—flanking him from alleyways, forcing him to weave and dodge with acrobatic finesse.
"Looks like the fan club's growing," Tony quipped, revving his boosters. "Time for an encore."
Tony smirked under his helmet. "Only if it comes with an espresso." He arced through a damaged support beam, his heads-up display pinging with new contacts.
Suddenly, more Chitauri burst from a side alley, flanking him on both sides.
As he prepared a strafing run, the skies lit up with arcs of green lightning—Buzzshock's clones darting across rooftops, their electrical dance aiding the fight below. Tony nodded appreciatively.
"Looks like Tennyson's little lightning batteries are pulling their weight," he muttered.
Then, Ben's voice crackled over their comms:
"Alright, ladies and gentlemen, this announcement comes from your friendly neighborhood living battery—get ready for the ultimate light show."
Before Tony could react, a blinding surge of electrical energy erupted from every Buzzshock clone in the city, illuminating the skyline with a divine, blinding brilliance. The light was so intense it forced Tony to close his eyes, shielding himself from the spectacle.
Midtown, New York — Bridge Street
The battle reached its fever pitch. The sky roared with the engines of alien ships as Chitauri reinforcements poured through a glowing portal, descending like vultures on a city ablaze with chaos. Smoke, plasma, and scorched metal filled the air.
Buzzshock Prime stood atop a shattered bus, his green-glowing eyes sweeping over the devastation. Around him, dozens of clones crackled with raw energy, twitching like living lightning rods.
"Olivia," Buzzshock's voice was low, fierce, commanding. "Get ready. We're ending this."
"Warning: Omnitrix transformation will time out in ten seconds," Olivia's voice crackled. "Now's the time—do something big."
Ben's jaw tightened. He lifted his arms, palms outward, summoning a storm of electricity that crackled and surged across his entire form. His clones responded instantly, forming a vast, circular formation—each one perched strategically across the city blocks, creating a massive, living circuit.
Green lightning arcs jumped from clone to clone, flickering brighter and hotter with each passing second, bathing the battlefield in a pulsating, deadly glow. The hum of power reverberated through the streets, stirring the very air with anticipation.
Meanwhile, Captain America charged down the street, shield at the ready, helping a mother and child dive behind a wrecked car. The streets were chaos—cars overturned, glass shattered, Chitauri soldiers swarming in relentless waves.
Two of the alien soldiers landed ahead; Steve hurled his vibranium shield—bouncing it off one's head and knocking the other aside with brutal efficiency—before catching it on its rebound.
Then, the earth beneath their feet seemed to pulse, like the heartbeat of a sleeping giant awakening.
Clint Barton perched atop a battered police cruiser, launching arrows into the sky, explosions lighting the skyline as Chitauri chariots spiraled out of control.
Near him, Natasha Romanoff moved with lethal grace—her pistols barking with surgical precision, each shot finding a target amidst the chaos.
Clint smirked. "You seeing this?"
Natasha shot back, unphased. "Yeah… what the hell is Tennyson doing?"
High above, Thor and Loki clashed atop Stark Tower, their battle interrupted by the humming energy filling the skyline. Loki's frown deepened as he glared at Thor, who's eyes flickered with blue arcs of electricity.
"What is this...?" Loki hissed, his emerald eyes narrowing.
Thor's mouth opened, sparks dancing from his eyes and fingertips unnoticed, awe very cell in his body screaming in excitement at the air around him.
"Tennyson…"
Loki muttered, underneath his his emerald green eyes glinting with a cold light.
Then it struck.
The sky exploded in a blinding flash of emerald lightning. For five long seconds, the city was bathed in a storm of pure electrical power—Buzzshock's clones forming a massive, crackling chain of lightning that stretched like a divine net across several blocks.
Chitauri convulsed mid-air, their weapons frying in their hands, dropping lifelessly. Leviathans screeched as electrical surges danced across their armored plates before they crashed into buildings in thunderous crashes.
Tony's armor jolted as the lightning struck, sparking and malfunctioning, his systems flickering under the immense electrical storm.
"Hey," he grumbled, struggling to stay aloft. "Can you give us a heads-up next time?"
The comms flickered, then crackled back on, JARVIS's voice steady amid the chaos.
Lights flickered, alarms blared, and metallic objects hummed as the city trembled under the divine storm. The final arc of lightning shot toward the portal above Stark Tower, igniting a massive explosion that sent Chitauri chariots and leviathans spiraling back through the opening—pushed into retreat.
Buzzshock Prime, battered and steaming, lowered himself to a kneel on a rooftop, lightning still crackling around him as the Omnitrix's alarm blared—signaling the transformation's end.
A flash of green light erupted from the storm's heart, and Ben Tennyson reappeared, breathing heavily. His body was drained, the energy spent, but the battlefield had turned in their favor.
Most of the Chitauri forces lay in ruin—seventy, maybe eighty percent decimated.
From a distance, Steve Rogers looked up at the young hero amid the wreckage, a rare smile touching his face.
"Nice work, Tennyson," he said quietly, pride evident in his voice.
Midtown, New York – Stark Tower
Ben, still struggling to catch his breath, turned his gaze toward Stark Tower, his helmet shadowing his narrowed eyes. The silence stretched for a tense, almost sacred moment—save for the distant wail of sirens and the blaring alarms of scattered vehicles. Across the battlefield, civilians and first responders alike found themselves pausing, breathing for the first time in what felt like hours.
Some of the NYPD officers, battered and scorched from earlier skirmishes, exchanged glances filled with raw disbelief—was it over?
Paramedics rushed forward, helping civilians out from the wreckage. Firefighters, weapons hastily drawn, cautiously checked the skyline.
On the cracked asphalt, a child clutched her mother's hand tighter, her wide eyes staring at the now-clearing sky.
A brief spark of hope ignited among them all—a belief, however fragile, that maybe they had a chance.
Then, the heavens shattered.
One... two... three... ten—
Before anyone could even breathe, the portal roared with renewed fury. An overwhelming swarm of Chitauri chariots burst forth, their engines screeching like the cries of ancient beasts. A new, colossal behemoth—twice the size of anything yet seen—emerged from the swirling rift, its armored bulk casting a monstrous shadow over Manhattan.
That fragile moment of hope was obliterated in an instant.
On the balcony of Stark Tower, Loki stood with a mischievous smirk, his green and gold armor gleaming under the fractured sunlight. His eyes glittered with malevolent glee as he lazily raised a hand, as if conducting a grand, sinister orchestra.
"See, brother," Loki drawled, voice dripping with mocking condescension, "it's only a matter of time before your allies crumble beneath my feet."
Thor, fists clenched and jaw set tight, took a step forward, his face a storm of frustration and sorrow.
"This is the last time I offer you surrender, Loki. Call off your forces—before more lives are lost. Father might still—"
Loki's smirk twisted into a sneer, his voice sharp as a blade.
"Father? That decrepit old fool?" he spat. "He stopped being my father the day he filled my ears with lies and broken promises. Family, dear brother, is just another pawn in his endless game."
Thor's face darkened, a flicker of old pain haunting his thunderous gaze.
"You've fallen far from the brother I once knew," he said quietly, sorrow tingeing his words.
Without warning, Loki sent a blust of blue energy towards Thor before lunging forward, his scepter flashing.
Thor blocked the incoming energy beam with Mjolnir redirecting, the beam elsewhere with practiced ease.
Than Thor answered with a roar of anger, lunging toward Loki Mjolnir slamming into Loki's scepter with a resounding CLANG. Lightning and blue energy crackled around them as the two brothers clashed—gods waging war atop a crumbling kingdom.
Their fierce duel spilled from the balcony, hammer against dagger, rage against sorrow—before the camera cut away.
On the ground, Clint Barton slumped his shoulders, his expression a mixture of fatigue and bitter humor as he surveyed the incoming wave.
"Well, that was a nice break," he quipped dryly, nocking another arrow with practiced ease.
Beside him, Natasha Romanoff reloaded her pistols in one fluid motion, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.
"Well, than breaks over. Back to work," she said coolly, her tone as composed as her deadly aim.
Together, they pivoted, weaving through the chaos as they resumed mowing down Chitauri infantry with lethal precision.
Elsewhere, Steve his suit bloodied with Chitauri blood—caught sight of the fresh wave exploding from the portal. His heart sank for a fleeting second before battle-hardened instincts kicked in.
Shield raised, he steadied himself in the wreckage-strewn street, his gaze hardening with grim determination.
"They just don't when to quit," he muttered under his breath, watching helpless civilians scatter once more in panic.
He sprinted into action without hesitation, rallying the survivors toward safer ground even as alien plasma rained down from the skies.
Above, Tony Stark, weaving through midair debris, locked onto the incoming chariots.
"Okay... so I guess round two's bigger, badder, and... much angrier," Tony quipped, firing twin repulsors at a pair of dive-bombing chariots.
"You know, guys, next time we save the world—how about we make it a one-and-done deal?"
The Iron Man armor shrieked through a barrel roll as plasma bolts lanced past him, before he unleashed a volley of miniature missiles, blasting several Chitauri crafts out of the sky in a brilliant chain of fireballs.
Meanwhile, aboard the S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier—
The bridge buzzed with frantic activity. Surveillance feeds flickered erratically, showing chaotic, half-scrambled glimpses of the battlefield.
Director Nick Fury stood resolute at the command console, his single eye narrowing dangerously.
"Hill," he barked, "how long until we get our eyes and ears back on the ground? We're flying blind."
Agent Maria Hill, tapping rapidly at her station, frowned.
"Still working, sir. That electrical storm fried half our surveillance. Tennyson's energy surge triggered massive electromagnetic interference—"
Suddenly, the entire bridge plunged into eerie silence as communications cut out completely.
A tense second passed. Then—flicker—the channels roared back to life.
Hill glanced sharply at a nearby technician, who raised his hands defensively.
"I—I don't know what happened! The signal just—cut out, then came back!"
Before Fury could demand an explanation, a calm, unmistakably Southern Texas-accented female voice broke through the speakers:
"Visual and audio feeds have been successfully re-established," the voice announced.
Hill's eyes widened slightly in recognition.
"Olivia," she said, almost under her breath. "Tennyson's AI. I encountered her when recruiting the kid for this mission."
Fury raised an eyebrow but didn't look entirely surprised.
"Well, that explains it," he muttered. "At least one part of the plan is working."
The bridge crew exchanged wary glances as Olivia continued, her voice smooth and professional:
"I am transmitting tactical directives to all law enforcement and military units. Please advise if you require specific orders."
Fury scowled thoughtfully. "And how exactly are you barking out orders without causing a complete meltdown down there?"
Without missing a beat, Olivia answered, a note of mischief in her polite tone:
"I am equipped with advanced voice-alteration protocols. I am currently issuing commands using the authorized vocal profiles of known leaders—including, but not limited to, Director Nicholas J. Fury."
The entire bridge froze for a second.
Suddenly, the comms crackled—and Fury's own stern voice came through the loudspeakers, issuing a series of rapid-fire battlefield instructions with military precision. To various SHIELD operatives in the battle torn city.
There was a beat of stunned silence, before one of the junior techs stifled a nervous laugh.
Fury pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Great. I'm being out-commanded by my own voice," he muttered. "Somebody get me a drink when this is over."
Hill allowed herself a small smirk as she worked the console.
"Could be worse, sir. She could've picked your karaoke voice."
Even in the heart of war, a ripple of subdued laughter passed across the bridge—a brief moment of levity against the backdrop of chaos.
Fury shook his head grimly.
"Alright, Olivia. You're in. Keep it tight. No surprises."
Back on the battlefield, Ben's breathing finally steadied.
The portal still swirled above like a wound in the sky—and he knew with chilling certainty: this fight was far from over.
Ben steeled himself his eyes sharp—ready to face whatever came next. As deployment of Chitauri chariots came Ben's way, his hands resting over his utility belt.
" Ariana eta three minutes, " Olivia's sounded inside Ben's helmet.
" That's more than enough, " his eyes sharp and unhesitant, as the Chitauri chariots raced to his location.