Jayden Stark's POV
I had finally decided. If Tony could be Iron Man, then I could be something too. I wasn't going to hide forever.
I kept my outfit simple—black jacket with a hoodie, black shirt underneath, jeans, and white sneakers. Nothing flashy, nothing that screamed "superhero." Just enough to blend in when I wasn't burning through the night sky.
The first few nights went better than I could have imagined.
It was late evening when I saw it—a car swerving out of control, brakes failing, heading straight toward a mother and her child crossing the street.
Instinct surged. The Omnitrix pulsed, and before I could think, I transformed. Diamondhead.
Crystalline armor covered my body, jagged and sharp. I leapt forward, forming a wall of crystal between the car and the pedestrians. The vehicle smashed into it, crumpling but stopping just short of killing them.
The mother screamed, clutching her child, but they were alive.
For the first time, I felt like a hero.
Days later, I caught sight of a mugging in progress. A man cornered in an alley, knife pressed to his throat.
I didn't hesitate. The Omnitrix flared, and I became XLR8.
The world slowed around me. I dashed forward, disarming the mugger before he even realized I was there. The victim stared, wide-eyed, as I tied the criminal up with scraps of rope.
"Call the cops," I said, my voice distorted by the alien form. Then I vanished into the night.
Another night, another chance. A fire had broken out in a small apartment building. People screamed from the windows, trapped by smoke and flames.
Heatblast surged through me. I didn't think twice. I blasted through the walls, carving paths for the residents to escape. My flames burned away obstacles, my plasma body immune to the inferno.
They got out. They lived.
But the building didn't.
By the time the fire department arrived, half the structure was gone. My flames had saved lives, but they had destroyed everything else.
Weeks later. A truck had lost control on the highway, barreling toward a crowded intersection.
I transformed again, instinct guiding me. Four Arms. Massive, red-skinned, towering. I grabbed the truck, muscles straining, and stopped it before it plowed into the crowd.
People cheered. Phones flashed. For a moment, I felt unstoppable.
But then I saw the damage. Cars crushed, pavement cracked, streetlights bent. My strength had saved lives, but it had wrecked the city block.
That was when the police arrived.
Sirens blared, lights flashed, guns drawn. They didn't see a hero. They saw a monster.
"Hands in the air!" one officer shouted.
I froze, panic surging. My heart raced, the Omnitrix pulsing. I wanted to explain, wanted to tell them I was helping. But then one of them fired.
The bullet ricocheted off my alien skin.
Something inside me snapped.
Rage flooded my mind, drowning out reason. My vision blurred, my body trembled. The alien instincts surged, voices screaming in my head. I lost control.
I don't remember what happened next.
All I know is that I blacked out.
When I came to, the street was chaos. Cars burned, buildings crumbled, police scattered. My hands shook, my hoodie scorched, the Omnitrix glowing faintly.
I had saved people. But I had destroyed everything else.
And for the first time, I realized the truth.
I wasn't just a hero. I was a danger.