Tokyo – 5:00 A.M.
The battle had ended, but Tokyo's skyline bore the scars of the chaos. Cracks veined through the concrete, shattered streetlights flickered weakly, and residual energy pulses buzzed intermittently—lingering echoes of Cruelight's power.
Amidst the wreckage, a momentary calm settled.
Ben Tennyson, his clothes singed and hair tousled, perched atop a flipped-over taxi, prodding the Omnitrix's faceplate with a curious finger.
"Okay, what was that glitch?!" he muttered. "That orange glyph thing? Looks like a Halloween version of your watch," he added, casting a glance at Hikaru's black-and-orange Elementatrix.
Hikaru, seated on the crumbled steps of a collapsed arcade, let out a soft chuckle.
"Yours is a prototype. Mine's... a custom job. Maybe your Omnitrix is trying to get an upgrade," he teased.
Ben narrowed his eyes.
"Hey! Don't diss the watch. This baby's saved the world more times than you've brushed your teeth."
"What does that even—" Hikaru began, but his attention shifted toward Scorch.
She stood at the edge of the crater where Cruelight had vanished. The early dawn bathed her white body in soft gold, her pink armor glinting. Her claws were clenched into trembling fists. Her breathing was slow, deliberate. She wasn't observing the city.
She was lost in the past.
Scorch turned to the others. Her voice was quiet, tinged with sorrow.
"You two deserve to know. About Sharim. And what we lost."
Ben sighed, crossing his arms.
"Let me guess: sad backstory, tragic loss, undying love?"
Hikaru gave him a sharp elbow to the side.
"Ben!"
Ben grumbled, rubbing his ribs. "I'm just saying. That's usually how these things go."
Scorch smiled, surprisingly. There was pain behind it, but also affection.
"You're not wrong. But it's more than that."
Planet Kinet. The Final Run.
Planet Kinet.
Its cities were races, its culture a blur, its people kinetic perfection. The sky was a perpetual swirl of purple, streaked with electric white. Buildings weren't static structures but velocity-channels—curved walkways, plasma rails, magnetic slopes that allowed citizens to traverse at supersonic speeds without deceleration.
There was no stillness on Kinet. Even their music was composed in motion—harmonies formed by running across soundpads stretched across skyways.
Scorch sat on a rock beside a pulsing neon river of plasma memory.
"We weren't just fast. We were motion. Living, breathing speed. It wasn't just how we lived... it was why we lived."
In her mind, the memory unfolded like a vivid dream.
Flashback – Years Before the Fall
Sharim, before his mutation, was sleek, silent, and terrifyingly fast. His body sliced through the wind like a scalpel. They'd spent countless hours in the upper driftways of Kinet, training, sparring, pushing their limits.
They were rivals. Then partners. Then... something more.
One memory sharpened in Scorch's mind:
They were in the Harmonic Heights, a floating racing ring above the clouds. Scorch sat with her legs dangling over the edge, Sharim beside her, holding a tiny glowing band.
"What is that?" she had asked.
"A tempo-loop. Made it from energy strands we used on our first circuit run."
He held it out to her, wrapping it gently around one of her claws.
"Let's promise," he said. "No matter how fast we run—our hearts stay in sync."
She blinked, laughing. "That's the cheesiest thing you've ever said."
"Yeah," he smirked. "But it worked."
The Doomsday
The Kinet Core had been stable for millennia.
Until it wasn't.
Scorch's voice dropped as she stood, pacing slowly in front of the two boys.
"We felt it in the wind first. The planet's rhythm—off-beat. A slowing pulse."
The ground began to fracture. The pulse-rivers backfired. Cities collapsed under their own momentum.
"The reactor at the planet's core—an experimental power source—overloaded. It mutated anything near it. Sharim… was too close."
Flashback – The Last Run
They were evacuating civilians when the first corequake hit. Sharim had stayed behind to help trapped children from the lower streets.
Scorch had screamed for him.
He turned just before the wave of corrupt energy engulfed him. His faceplate cracked. His skin pulsed with dark, writhing speed. His silhouette warped—spikes, glowing eyes, shifting mass. And then—
Boom.
Everything vanished.
Scorch had barely escaped.
"I thought he was gone. Lost. Dead."
She crouched now, head low.
"But now I know... he lived. In pain. Alone. Believing I abandoned him."
Ben's usual smugness had faded.
He was staring, wide-eyed. Mouth slightly open.
"Dang... That's heavy."
"It wasn't your fault," Hikaru said gently. "He made a choice. You both did."
"i still have that tempo-loop," Scorch whispered. "so i would never forget him"
Ben blinked. He had seen a glowing band tangled in Cruelight's cracked armor.
A few seconds passed in silence.
Then Ben leaned back on the cab roof, arms behind his head.
"Still mushy. But like... good mushy. Kinda like Sumo Slammers when they get dramatic in season three."
Scorch laughed softly. Hikaru groaned.
"Ben…"
"What?! I'm just saying!"
He sat up again, thoughtful for a moment.
"You know, I always thought being a hero was about punching stuff and making cool quips. But you guys... this is something else."
Hikaru smirked.
"Growth. I'm proud of you."
"Pfft. Don't get used to it."
As dawn broke further, painting the sky orange and gold, the trio watched the sun rise.
Scorch finally sat beside them.
"I don't know if Sharim can be saved. But I'm going to try."
Ben looked at his Omnitrix, which pulsed gently.
"Then we'll help."
Hikaru held out a hand.
"Together."
They stacked their hands.
Three different beings. Three different pasts. One mission.
And far beneath the city, in a place no sensors could detect…
A heart pulsed.
A breath echoed.
And a voice—Sharim's voice—whispered through the dark:
"Scorch…"
To Be Continued...