Hello! This story was inspired by 'The Hunter's Monomyth'. For those of you who haven't read it, it's an awesome fic where the Hero Hunter Garou from One Punch Man is transported into the body of Ben Tennyson. This fic is similar to it, only instead of Garou, I'm gonna use a certain someone from DC.
Let's stop talking and start this thing.
Disclaimer: I don't own DC or Ben 10.
He had done it.
He had given them a fighting chance.
Even though they hated him and would never see him as anything other than a murdering psychopath, he had given it his all, using everything he had to fight the Darkest Knight.
His entire strength, power and Crisis energy all unleashed in one single strike. All to strike down this Batman wannabe.
He could have taken the power. Use it to destroy this world and make a new one, one where he got a happy ending and lived happily ever after.
He had no attachment to any of them. There was really no reason to fight for them.
They hated him. All of them. So he hated back.
But then he was there. That damned mutt with a cape that he had read so many stories about. Looking at him with those big, innocent eyes. Worried for him.
And he felt his hate ebb away, replaced with a deep sadness.
"You... get out of here, you stupid mutt." The dog stayed, still looking at him. "I said go! I..."
He patted his head, wiping away his tears.
That abomination used this small moment of weakness to do what he always does: get into the other person's head.
He offered to help him; give him exactly what he had been longing for so long. A perfect world, where he was the hero that he had always dreamed of being, but never was. Surrounded by other heroes who looked at him with admiration, respect and love.
But most importantly, he was accepted.
He could see it. It was so close, all he would have to do is say 'yes'. Accept the Darkest Knights offer. Join his army of evil Supermen. And he would finally have what he was so desperate for.
But it was a world without his parents. Without her.
So he told the dog to leave and clenched his fist.
One. Last. Time.
He saw the vision of a perfect world break apart. Shattering like glass. Disappearing like all the other worlds that were created by this crazy Bat God.
They would never know it was him. And even if they did, they wouldn't accept it. He felt his life force fade away as he fell, her name being the last thing he said before slipping into the dark embrace of death.
"Laurie..."
That is how Superboy Prime died. On a barren battlefield, surrounded by his broken armor and Krypto the super dog by his side, howling his grief into the sky.
Something wasn't right.
For starters, he could feel his body move. As for as he knew, dead people couldn't move. Unless their name was Boston Brand.
He slowly opened his eyes, blinking as light filled his vision. When he had finally rubbed the spots out of his eyes, he took a look at his surroundings.
When he did, he realized that something was definitely wrong.
He was laying in a bunk bed at the back of what he guessed was a rundown RV. How he knew? He looked out a window and saw grassy plains pass by at a fast rate.
When he looked at his reflection in the window, he panicked. Because the face staring back at him...
... it wasn't his.
Gone was the neatly combed black hair with the iconic curl, instead he had brown, tussled locks. His vivid sky-blue eyes were replaced with an emerald green. He was also alit shorter and younger. If he had to guess, he was around 10 or 12 years old.
He wore a white short-sleeved shirt with a black stripe going down the center that stretched around his collar, a pair of dark green cargo pants, and white/black sneakers.
He was beginning to panic, fear, confusion and anger starting to spread in his body. What is going on? Where is he? Did he get de-aged? But if so, why didn't he look like himself? He wondered whether this was some sort of dream or illusion, but something inside him told him that this was all real.
Before he could start to hyperventilate (or destroy something), the upbeat voice of a delighted old man garnered his attention.
"Good to see you're up kiddo. We're almost there." His gaze turned to the driver's seat of the RV. The elderly stranger was was a slightly rotund man with short gray hair and focused black eyes that screamed experience in some unknown expertise. He wore a red polo shirt with Hawaiian flowers etched all around and dark blue pants, pressing down on the accelerator with brown boots as well.
Who was that guy? And, more importantly, what happened to him? The last thing he remembered was hitting that lame Batman wannabe and then... nothing.
Did he do this? If so, why? Wouldn't it make more sense to send him to some nightmarish world of his making, one where would suffer? So many questions, but no answers.
"Hey doofus, are you trying to think again?" A snotty voice asked him, alerting him to the presence of another person in the vehicle. He turned around to see a young girl. She wore white shoes and pants, and a light blue shirt with a dark blue cathead design on the front. She had shoulder length orange hair and green eyes that matched his. Her glare was an equal mix of annoyed and bored. "Please don't, it's painful to watch."
He narrowed his eyes. "Who the hell are you?"
The girl quirked an eyebrow. "First off, language. And did the heat already fry your brain or were you always this dumb?"
His mood went from confused and annoyed, to enraged in a second. It had always infuriated him when people called him dumb and this girl was no exception. So he did what he always does when someone insults him: blast their heads off with heat vision. He expected two beams of red to fly from his eyes and incinerate the girl in front of him, her ashes spreading over the table.
"What are you doing dweeb?" The girl asked in a confused, but still annoyed voice.
Except nothing happened. He kept trying, but no matter what he did, he never felt the familiar heat build behind his eyes, the twin beams that had burned so many a foe seeming nonexistent.
He kept trying, straining his eyes for even the tiniest bit of heat vision. But still nothing. Now he was full on panicking. His powers had always been with him, ever since the first Crisis where they awakened. Unless they were under a red sun, which he doubted, considering he had seen the sun set over the horizon.
Confusion, fear, anger and panic began to pool inside his chest. His chest. He scrambled to his feet, hastily picking up the hem of his shirt and trying to pull it over his head.
"What the heck are you doing, doofus?!" The girl shouted drawing the attention of the elderly man. He ignored them, finally pulling the shirt off his body, leaving him bare-chested.
A skinny, spotless chest. No large S in a diamond shield carved on it in a bloody display. Just a regular male torso. Realization flooded him as he stood there just staring.
"You alright there, Ben?" The elderly man asked concerned.
He was snapped out his daze. He just looked up at the elderly man and shook his head. "I'm alright." He almost winced. His voice sounded so annoying. Like Beast Boy's from that awful Teen Titans Go show. "Just... thought there was something on my chest. Guess I was wrong."
"Well, put your shirt back on! I don't wanna stare at your gross chest any longer!" The girl yelled, blushing furiously as she averted her eyes.
Feeling numb inside, he robotically put his shirt back on. He went and sat down in the side seat, next to the old man.
"You sure you're alright, son?" The old guy asked. At first, he wanted to yell at him, screaming at him that nothing was alright. But one look at the old man and his anger evaporated. This man reminded him of his own father; not his birth father, but rather the man who had raised him, Jerry Kent. The one who had always shown him love, understanding and was there when he needed him. Who had perished with the rest of his universe. This guy didn't look like him, but the look in his eyes was the same; a caring parent who was there for you.
He sighed. "Yeah. I'm ok." He really wasn't. But there was no need for him to know that.
The old man didn't look convinced, but decided not to pursue it. Not like he would understand.
For he was no longer Superboy Prime. No, he was back to being powerless Clark Kent. And that terrified him more than a thousand Flashes.
Dun Dun Dun! It's Superboy Prime! He has been reincarnated into the body of Ben Tennyson! I've been looking for fics that center on Superboy Prime for a very long time, but there's so very few. Then I read Death Metal: Secret Origins again and this idea popped into my head! Before you go on a rant about how Superboy Prime is way too OP for the Ben 10 universe, don't worry. Read the story and you will see for yourself. As for pairing... it seems very hard to pair Prime with somebody, considering his past love Laurie. But it will happen. He will be with a girl from Ben 10. As for who? You'll have to see. Anyway, have fun.