Author's Note: Hey again! So, I'm not sure what was wrong with the last chapter, but hopefully there are no more tech issues. To thank you (the greatest of fans) for your patience, I decided I would upload another chapter. Maybe it will help the last one fix itself! Anyway, enjoy!

Chapter 03

It was only after the town of Kenville and its museum were distant memories in their rear-view mirrors that Grandpa Max seemed to return to his normal, cheery demeanor. Gwen wasn't sure what had caused his sudden onset, but she had enjoyed the pizza (and even moreso Ben's face when he had realized there was pineapple on it. She had specifically asked for it because she knew that he didn't like it.)

Now, a couple days after the museum, and Ben's encounter with Kevin, they were driving through dry, sparsely forested open terrain, and Max seemed to have a glint in his eyes at the helm of the vehicle. Neither of the kids noticed however, as they were both engrossed with their own tasks. Gwen had produced her small, personal laptop, and begun to take down the notes that were written in the book, in case she ever lost the original copy. She didn't mention her intentions to Grandpa Max.

Ben, meanwhile, had his nose in the pages of his Spider-Man comic. Not only was it a limited edition, but it was actually a collection of several stories, which meant that, while Ben had been reading it pretty much since they had left the game store, he was only about halfway through. He was happy to finally have some kind of entertainment, and even though he had read some of the stories that were in the book, he was happy to revisit them. Anything to get away from the cramped R.V. for a little while.

Despite this, his thoughts kept drifting to Kevin and his mysterious power. What was that? It could have simply been an exploitation of the faulty machine, but it sort of seemed like… Some kind of superpower. That put a bit of a damper on Ben's spirits. How cool it would be, he thought, to have a superpower. Maybe then his summer would get a little bit less boring. He looked at a panel in his book, where Spider-Man was leaping through the air, and sighed, looking up from the fantastic image to the dinky surroundings that he found himself in. Then, shaking his head, he dove back into the story, trying to salvage his good mood from before.

So engrossed were they in their tasks that neither of the kids noticed when Grandpa Max took a small, relatively unmarked exit, and began to drive along a dirt road towards a patch of forest, and then through a gravel road through the forest. They didn't notice as he brought the R.V. to a stop in a relatively secluded clearing, with an old, burnt out firepit. It was only when he unbuckled himself, and stood up in the aisle, facing them, that they seemed to notice anything was even happening.

Max looked at their confused faces with a huge, toothy grin.

"We're here," he said.

Ben and Gwen swapped glances. Gwen closed her laptop and Ben turned to Max with a raised eyebrow.

"Where is 'here'?" He asked, forming little air quotes around the word with his fingers.

Max continued to beam.

"Our camping spot!" He said, like it was obvious. "Come on, help me pitch the tents. We've still got a couple hours before it gets dark. Then, it's time for weenies and marshmallows!"

While the words even sounded embarrassing coming out of Grandpa Max's mouth, both kids could feel hunger creeping on, and so they began to help him with the construction of the campsite. Aside from the tents (a single for Max and a shared one for the kids, both of which were a chore to raise) they also had three foldable chairs to sit around the firepit. Then there was the construction of the actual fire, of course. Ben volunteered to help start the fire, but Max denied it, saying he could handle it.

"Why do we even need tents, anyway?" Ben muttered, as Max groaned, stooping to his knees to blow gently on the small blaze he had created amongst his bed of kindling. "Can't we just sleep in the R.V.?"

"Well, I thought you kids might be sick of the R.V. by now," Max said, "and wanted some fresh air. It's good for you! Besides, it's not really the full camping experience without a tent, now is it?"

"Do you think we'll see any chupacabras?" Gwen wondered aloud, trying to sound nonchalant. Ben rolled his eyes, and even Max shook his head a bit.

"No, I don't think we will," the old man said. Then, under his breath, he added: "At least I hope not."

Now that the camp had been prepared, and the fire was blazing, all that was left was to wait for the flames to die down to an ember for even cooking, and then to enjoy the roasted food by starlight. The three sat in silence: Ben and Gwen reading, and Max simply enjoying the tranquil atmosphere, and the fruits of his labor. With a satisfied sigh, he took off his wide-brimmed boat cap, and looked back and forth between the two kids. Even as the sun edged its way out of the sky, they stayed reading by the dim light. Max wondered where they had gotten their bookwormishness. It certainly wasn't from his side of the family. Max was not one for reading. He considered himself a man of action.

"Alright, alright, books away," he said, when eventually he could not stand the silence anymore. He was suddenly realized he had taken it for granted when the two pre-teens began to whine their complains. "Come on, quit whining. We're out in the beautiful, natural world! Enjoy it while we're here. It might not always be here."

The two kids looked at each other, and with a sigh, they put away their reading material. For now. They knew where Max kept the flashlights, and when the old man was asleep with a stomach full of s'mores, they both knew that the plan was to stay up all night reading. Ben only consoled himself in this shared time with his cousin with the fact that the last story in his comic book was one that he had never read before, and it looked super sick. Max smiled at his grandkids, as Ben leaned forward to rest his chin in his hand and Gwen pulled her knees up in her chair and crossed her arms. Neither looked super stoked about the great outdoors. Max tried to lighten the mood by producing a bag of uncooked hot dogs.

"Alright, well. I think it's supper time," he said. Both of the kids' stomachs growled, and he grinned, knowing he was right on the money. He handed out long, forked rods for roasting, and assisted the kids in skewering their sausages. They both knew how to do it on their own, but they weren't sure how to tell Max that. He was clearly in the grandpa zone. Then, as the two kids concentrated on not burning their dinner, Max went about setting up a small array of buns and condiments. The bare essentials: ketchup, mustard, and even a small tin of homemade relish that Max made, because he knew that Gwen liked relish.

When they had finished cooking (signaled by Ben getting impatient, putting his hot-dog too close to the fire, and then settling it ablaze, before quickly blowing it out), they each prepared their hot dogs in their own way. Ben plain, Max with ketchup and mustard, and Gwen with mustard and relish. Ben wrinkled his nose at her hot dog, and she made it very clear that she was ignoring him. They then ate hungrily, enjoying the simplistic food they had cooked themselves. After they were finished, they sat in satisfied silence, relaxing in their folding chairs and taking in the fact that it had grown dark, and they could see the stars. Way more stars than they could ever have seen in Bellwood. Max smiled as the crickets began to chirp, and put his hands behind his head, sighing happily.

"Oh yeah," he said. "This is the life."

"What about the Mothman? Or, minotaurs?" Gwen said, suddenly breaking the calm with the mention of yet more monsters. "Or, Grandpa, I read about these little fairies with special powers that grant wishes. They're called Kwa-"

"Yeah, alright, I'm gonna go pee now so I don't have to hear more about the chupacabras," Ben said, hopping up out of his chair abruptly walking off to the nearby treeline, just beyond the dimmest edge of the firelight, so that nobody got a sneak peek.

As Ben walked off, Ben turned to Gwen, once again donning a serious expression.

"Gwen," he said, "you need to stop worrying about monsters and magic."

"But-"

"I know what's in the book," Max said, making the point very clear. "I've read it front to cover. Half of the sticky notes in there are mine."

Gwen's jaw dropped.

"Really?"

,Max grinned cheekily. The bait had worked.

"Oh, yeah," he said, hamming it up. "I mean, I discovered the fact that garden gnomes kidnap human girls to become their queens."

Gwen suddenly looked chilled, and glanced at the treeline, and the slowly dying fire. Max held up a hand and smiled, indicating that he wasn't finished. She pulled her knees closer and listened, as Max continued his explanation.

"But- What I'm saying is, you don't have to worry about that. You don't have to worry about running into magical creatures. Most of the time, you don't even have to worry about spotting them."

"Why not?"

"Well, because they have a leader that keeps them in check," Max said. Gwen leaned her head to the side inquisitively.

"A leader?" She echoed.

"That's right," Max said. "Some say he's an old man, walking around in tattered blue robes. Others say that he takes the form of a demon, with scales and horns. But, the explanation I've heard most, and the I'd put my money on, is that he takes the form a great Dragon, the color of the night sky. They say he can breathe fire like any dragon, but also lightning, and that he summons the very clouds of the sky around him, to obscure him from mortal sight."

Gwen sat, enthralled by the campfire story, her eyes wide as she listened.

"And the Dragon makes sure that the magical creatures stay hidden?" Gwen asked. "Why?"

"To keep them safe," Max said, "from us. The truth is, we humans are more dangerous than most of the magical monsters out there. They stay hidden, for fear of going the way of the dodo."

"Even trolls?" Gwen said, whispering when she said the word as if it were taboo to even say. Max grimaced. He knew what the book said on trolls. He knew about the rough sketch, the scribbled, haggard handwriting, depicting nothing but horned death and danger beneath the surface of the earth.

"Trolls are a rare exception," Max said, "but the Dragon keeps the peace between us. He is a moderator between the worlds. If it weren't for him, monsters and humans might have had many wars by now."

Gwen looked kind of sad at that. Then, a little light burned inside of her eyes, and it was not just a reflection of the campfire.

"I hate war," she said. "I hate that stupid humans always go to war."

Max suddenly seemed very distant.

"So do I…" he said. His eyes sparkled a little with tears, and he sniffled, wiping his nose a bit as he looked down at the fire. Then, regaining his composure, he smiled at Gwen. "Just remember. Fear no creeper in the night. The Dragon's looking out for you."

Gwen seemed entirely satisfied with the story as an answer to all of her questions. She was, after all, a 12 year old girl. Her fascination was easily sated, and logical as she often was, her perception only went so far. She reached for her skewer and then turned to smile at Max.

"Can I roast the first s'more before Ben burns all the marshmallows?" She said mirthfully. Max gave her a wry grin, shaking his head as if he couldn't believe she'd say that.

"No way," he said, "we'll wait for the hot head to come back."

After Ben did his business, he was suddenly distracted by a strange smell. It was some kind of acrid, burning smell, coming from further into the woods. There was even a faint, thin trail of smoke seeping out from within the woods. Squinting in confusion, he turned to see if Gwen or Max had noticed. They were engrossed in some kind of fairy tail, and the boy shrugged, turning and dashing into the mild summer night. Small as he was, Ben made little sound, save for a few snapping branches, as he ran through the woods, in search of something interesting. After his encounter with Kevin's power, he had been wallowing in how mundane his life seemed in comparison, and was craving a forest fire or a camp full of poachers, or anything that might spice up this camping trip.

As Ben broke through into a clearing, he realized that the clearing had probably not been there for too long. He stepped over toppled, blackened trees, and held an arm up to his face as he stepped into the thick haze of smoke that enveloped the clearing. He coughed back smoke once, and realized suddenly that, in trying to shield his nose and eyes from the stinging smoke, he had temporarily obscured his vision, and he suddenly tripped over a jutting tree branch. Yelping, he found himself rolling end over end into a hole he had not seen, skidding down the sides, being stung by the super hot dirt that lined the crater. As he fell, Ben dropped below the main cloud of smoke, which was rising up from hole itself, allowing him to blink away tears and regain his vision. It was indeed, he realized, a crater, like one might see in an alien movie.

Ben's heart began to race. Just seconds ago he had been romanticizing the idea of something supernatural happening, and now that something out of the ordinary was happening, he wasn't sure how much he actually wanted it. Despite himself, his impulsive curiosity won out, and he began to scour the bottom of the hole for any signs of alien life. He found none, and realized with some confusion that there was no flame feeding the strange smelling smoke that rose up from the crater. As he crawled around on the bottom of the crater, not lingering in one spot to avoid being stung by the strangely ever-hot dirt, his hand brushed something cool to the touch and textured.

It moved!

"Ah!" Ben yelped, as the thing he had brushed leapt towards his hand. He tried to retract it, fumbling backwards and way, but whatever it was moved faster than the boy could even blink, and as he fell backwards on his butt, he felt the thing clamp onto his wrist. His other hand instinctively flew there, and he gave a shout of fear and surprise, clawing at the strange texture that was now stuck to his wrist. It felt like a bug or a snake, but it felt almost manmade. Ben's heart was racing, and then was a sudden prick of pain in his wrist. Ben was certain the thing was sucking his blood. He nearly passed out.

"Help!" He shouted desperately.

Then, the pain vanished, and all at once, the billowing smoke disappeared. Ben stopped screaming, and blinked to try and gain some sense of vision by the moonlight at what has stuck itself to his wrist. It was black and silver, glinting organically like something with scales, although the edges were way to smooth and uniform to be scales. It almost could have looked like a crazy, gonzo wrist watch, but where the clock face would have been, there was instead nothing. Just a flat, smooth surface. Ben looked down in confusion, and then tried to shake it off of his hand. The watch thing didn't move. Ben panicked a bit, shaking and pulling on the thing furiously. He even slammed his wrist against the sand, and discovered three truths.

First of all, the sand was cooling rapidly.

Second of all, the thing was not going to come off, now matter how hard he tried.

Third and finally, the "clock face" of the watch was now glowing with a bright blue symbol, akin to a black-widow's design, or an hourglass.

This final thing caught Ben's interest, and he pulled the watch closer to his face, trying to determine the source of the light. As he did, it suddenly shot a beam of blue light up and down his eye, and he blinked in surprise. Then, through tinny speakers, a voice spoke in a language Ben couldn't understand. It droned on and on, the voice morphing and warping, before, finally, it started to sound like words Ben could comprehend.

"-ation mode in process. Standby for recalibration. Recalibration mode in process… Recalibration complete."

Just as soon as Ben began to understand the words being emitted from the strange device, it stopped talking as suddenly as it had started, interrupted by a strange, digital chirping noise. It tingled in Ben's ears, and sent a shock up his spine, as if telling him that it was time for action. As it did, the glowing design suddenly blinked from blue to a neon green, and the watch face popped out like a small, cylindrical button. Ben blinked as the hourglass shape crossed open, and revealed a glowing, shifting green aura inside of the device. Then, a silhouette appeared in the misty aura. It was humanoid, but it had some kind of energy flickering off of it.

Ben didn't think. He acted on impulse. He knew exactly what he had to do.

He pressed the button.