"Hey, kid… need a hand?"
Ben Tennyson sniffled.
Not because he was upset.
Well, maybe a little.
But mostly because the room had a strange smell.
"No," Ben replied with a frown. "I don't know you."
The voice persisted.
"That's fair," it said. "But you're tied to a chair in a creepy room, so maybe we skip the introductions?"
Ben glanced at the ropes binding his arms.
Then at the door.
Then back to empty space.
"…I was gonna get out," he muttered defensively.
"You've been at it for ten minutes."
"…I was thinking about getting out."
"Ah. Strategic delay."
Ben nodded with a serious expression. "Yeah."
There was a brief pause before, "Want help now?"
Ben narrowed his eyes.
"…Are you a ghost?"
"No."
"…An alien?"
"No."
"…A ninja?"
"…No."
Ben's face fell. "Then you're kinda boring."
"I can give you powers."
Ben went still. Slowly, he straightened up.
"…What kind of powers?"
"Any kind." Ben narrowed his eyes. "Like… any any?"
"Yes."
Ben gasped.
"Like the ones from Sumo Slammers?!"
"Anything," the voice repeated. "And even more."
Ben's jaw dropped.
"Even more?!"
"Yes."
Ben kicked his legs in excitement, though it accomplished nothing since he was still tied up.
"Okay okay okay!" he whispered loudly. "I want to fly no no wait laser eyes! No super strength! No summon giant wrestlers! No turn into a giant wrestler! NO ALL OF THEM!"
"…You're six," the voice said.
"Yeah!"
"…Right."
Ben leaned forward as much as the ropes allowed.
"Can I punch through walls?"
"Yes."
"Can I fly?"
"Yes."
"Can I shoot like PEW PEW green stuff?"
"…If you want."
Ben gasped even louder.
"THIS IS THE BEST DAY EVER."
"You were kidnapped."
"SECOND BEST DAY EVER."The voice paused briefly.
"…There's a small thing."
Ben's gaze sharpened at once. "A catch?"
"Not really."
"Sounds like a catch."
"I can't give you major powers now; it would hurt you since you're too weak," the voice explained. "But I can give you the ability to use them easily someday."
Ben blinked.
"…That sounds like homework."
"…It's not homework."
"…Are you sure?"
"…Mostly."
Ben leaned back in the chair, thinking very hard. This was super important. Way more than Gwen being a pain. Even cooler than Grandpa's weird stories. And totally better than snacks and Sumo wrestlers.
"…Will I be cool?" Ben asked, super serious.
"Yeah."
"…More than Kevin next door?"
"Way more."
"…Okay, deal."
"Wait, you haven't even—"
"DEAL."
Pause.
"…Alright."
Something changed. Just a tiny feeling. Like when you suddenly knew the answer in class that you didn't study for and somehow got those answers correct.
Ben blinked. Then looked at his hands.
"…Huh."
"Try again," the voice said.
Ben twisted his wrist. The rope didn't break. But he noticed something. A loose part. Right there.
"…Ohhh," Ben grinned. He wiggled his hand, pulled, twisted.
And POP. His hand slipped out. Ben froze. Then slowly raised his free hand into the air like he had just won something.
"I DID IT."
"Yes," the voice said. "You did, now be quiet."
Ben quickly began to free himself.
"This is definitely a power," he declared.
"No, it isn't."
"Yes, it is."
"Absolutely not."
"It's a power because I say so."
"...I'm already regretting this."
The door emitted a grating noise. Footsteps echoed, followed by snippets of murmured words.
"Let's check on the child—"
Ben's eyes sparkled.
"Hey," he murmured. "Can I fight them?"
"...You're still only six years old."
"...But I have powers now."
"You possess untapped ability."
Ben grinned.
"That means I can!"
The door swung open.
A large, intimidating figure strode in and instantly tripped over the broken chair leg Ben had earlier kicked.
He landed on the floor with a resounding THUD.
Ben gazed in astonishment.
He then looked up.
"...I didn't do that at all."
"...You identified their vulnerability," the voice stated.
Ben's grin widened slowly.
"Ohhhhhh."
From outside: "What's going on?!"
Ben stood there, partially free, with disheveled hair, a broad smile, and no fear.
"Hey, voice guy?"
"Yes?"
"...This is going to be AMAZING."
A brief pause.
Then,
"...It usually isn't."
Ben nodded.
Then promptly stumbled over the remaining rope and fell face-first.
The voice sighed.
"...We'll get there."
More footsteps hurried in from outside.
Inside, a six-year-old boy with an overactive imagination and just enough guidance…
Burst into laughter.
And somewhere deep within his mind,
Something observed,
Awaiting.