The courtroom was abuzz with murmurs of anticipation as the judge entered, the heavy gavel in hand signaling the beginning of yet another trial. In the defendant's seat sat a figure shrouded in shadow, his features obscured by the dim lighting of the courtroom.

"Case number 1987-0013, the state versus Y/N," the judge announced, his voice echoing through the hushed chamber. "Will the defendant please rise?"

Y/N stood, his gaze fixed on the judge as he awaited the start of the proceedings.

Y/N stood calmly in the defendant's seat, his appearance drawing curious glances from those in the courtroom. His skin bore a light shade of ice blue, an unusual color that contrasted with the more common tones of those around him. His eyes, a vibrant shade of green, held a hint of intensity as he observed the proceedings with a composed demeanor.

But what truly caught the attention of onlookers were the wings that extended from his back, their graceful form adding an ethereal quality to his presence.

The prosecutor stood before the jury, his demeanor resolute as he prepared to deliver his opening statement. His gaze fell upon Y/N, the defendant, his expression tinged with disdain.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury," the prosecutor began, his voice carrying a tone of righteous indignation, "we are here today to seek justice for the heinous crimes committed by the defendant, Y/N."

He paced the floor with purpose, his words cutting through the tense atmosphere of the courtroom. "Y/N stands accused of a brutal assault, an act of wanton violence that left an innocent victim clinging to life by a thread."

The prosecutor's voice grew more impassioned as he recounted the events of that fateful night. "The evidence is clear," he declared, gesturing towards Y/N with a sense of accusation. "The defendant froze off the victim's arm with his ice breath, then proceeded to freeze him in solid ice."

He paused, allowing the weight of his words to sink in. "As a result of the defendant's actions, the victim now lies in a hospital bed, their life hanging in the balance, sustained only by life support."

"Objection your honor!" The defense said. Y/N's defense attorney stepped forward, a determined expression etched upon her face. With a sense of purpose, she turned to address the jury, her voice steady and resolute.

She paused, her eyes scanning the faces of the jury, searching for any hint of empathy or understanding. "Y/N is not the monster the prosecution would have you believe," she continued, her voice rising with conviction. "He is a protector, a guardian driven by an innate sense of duty to those in need."

With a solemn nod towards Y/N, she continued, "On the night in question, Y/N witnessed a heinous act of violence unfolding before him—a man poised to unleash untold harm upon his own family. In that moment, Y/N made a split-second decision, a decision to intervene and save innocent lives at any cost."

Her words carried a weight of sincerity as she painted a picture of Y/N as a reluctant hero, thrust into a situation beyond his control. "Yes, the victim suffered grievous injuries," she conceded, her voice softening with empathy. "But let us not forget the lives that were spared, the families that remain intact thanks to Y/N's selfless actions."

As the trial commenced, the prosecution wasted no time in painting Y/N as a dangerous criminal, a menace to society who had brazenly violated the sanctity of another's home. They recounted the events of that fateful night, embellishing the details to suit their narrative of guilt and malice.

But Y/N knew the truth, and he was determined to make it known. With his attorney by his side, he recounted the events of that night with unwavering clarity, his voice ringing out across the courtroom as he spoke of the man he had encountered—a man driven to madness by his own demons, a man who had threatened to extinguish the lives of his own family.

To make a long story short, a man named Jason, couldn't live his life with his wife, four children, grew tired and sleepless, and that morning, he woke up with the thought of ending it all. So that night, he shot his wife in the face, Y/N just so happened to be outside in his yard when he heard the commotion. Jason was about to shoot his kids when Y/N intervened. Using his ice breath, he froze Jason's arm and shotgun, and they reached a temperature so cold, Jason's arm turned to solid ice and shattered on the spot. And boy did he scream like a child. He tried shooting Y/N, but Y/N took extra precautions and froze him in ice. Jason's body was left in ice for three hours till he was freed.

"I had no choice," Y/N pleaded, his voice tinged with desperation. "I had to act. I couldn't stand by and watch as he... as he..."

But the words caught in his throat, choked by the weight of his guilt and the memories of that harrowing night. The faces of the family he had saved flashed before his eyes, their tear-streaked expressions etched into his mind forever.

Turning to face the jury once more, the prosecutor's gaze hardened. "Don't be swayed by sympathy or pity," he continued, his voice ringing with conviction. "Y/N's actions were not those of a savior, but of a cold-blooded assailant, a danger to society who must be held accountable for his crimes."

As the trial drew to a close, the jury retired to deliberate, leaving Y/N to wait in agonizing silence for their verdict.

It took twelve minutes, before they came out with one word, guilty.

Y/N's stomach lurched, and he felt a cold sweat break out on his brow.

The defendant wasted no time in rising to her feet, her voice ringing out with righteous indignation. "This is an outrage!" She exclaimed, her words echoing off the walls of the courtroom. "My client is being unfairly targeted simply because he is a mutant!"

The judge banged his gavel, calling for order in the courtroom, but the defendant pressed on, her voice unwavering in the face of opposition. "You all know it's true!" Her continued, her eyes blazing with fury. "You're afraid of him because he's different, because he possesses powers beyond your comprehension. But that doesn't make him a criminal!"

Y/N's heart sank as the cold metal of the handcuffs clamped around his wrists. He felt the firm grip of the police officers as they roughly hoisted him to his feet, their steely gazes leaving no room for doubt. Y/N looked around the room at the various police officers and their guns, escape was not an option.

"In light of the gravity of the charges against you and the threat you pose to society, it is the decision of this court to sentence you to thirty five years to life imprisonment in the Raft," the judge pronounced, his voice ringing with finality.

Y/N's mind raced as the reality of his situation sank in. The Raft—a maximum-security prison designed to contain the most dangerous and powerful criminals in the world. It was a place of nightmares, a living hell where the strong preyed upon the weak and survival was a daily struggle.

With a heavy heart, Y/N was escorted out of the courtroom.

/ / / /

"I can't believe you're getting thirty five years in The Raft. It's seems so harsh." Y/N's father said with genuine concern as he looked at his son through the jail cells, as Y/N was waiting for prison trucks to transfer him.

Y/N swallowed hard, his throat constricting with the weight of his father's words.

"I know, Dad," Y/N replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's... it's a lot to take in."

His father reached through the bars, his hand resting gently on Y/N's shoulder. "I just want you to know that we'll always be here for you, no matter what," he said, his voice trembling with emotion.

"We'll see if there is anything we can do to bail you out. Bail bonds, reopening the case, there has to be something, somewhere." Y/N's mom said.

"Where are my siblings?" Y/N asked, his voice barely above a whisper, the weight of his mother's words settling like a leaden weight in the pit of his stomach.

His mother hesitated, her eyes downcast as she struggled to find the right words. "You know how they feel about having a mutant in the family," she replied, her voice tinged with regret and sadness. "They... they couldn't bring themselves to come."

Y/N's chest tightened at the admission, a wave of loneliness washing over him as he grappled with the reality of his isolation.

"What's going to happen to the father of the family I tried to... to protect?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he struggled to find the right words.

His parents exchanged a somber glance, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily upon them as they grappled with the implications of Y/N's question.

"He's in recovery. Still ice cold after you froze him, and still missing his arm. But once he's out, police will be ready with open arms, a pair of handcuffs, and a nice warm cell with three new buddy's "eager" to meet him." Y/N's dad said with a smug grin.

"Sorry folks, visiting hours are over, the prison transfer truck has arrived," an officer announced as he was walking to the cell.

Y/N's mother moved quickly, her hands shaking slightly as she reached for two books from her bag. "Here, take these," she said softly, pressing the books into Y/N's hands with a sense of urgency. The books were Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and Witch City Mystery: Caught Dead Handed.

"Before I go...please take the cat to a urologist. That cat pees and poops at least twelve times a day, and goes through litter boxes every six hours. Seriously, what the heck's going on down there?" Y/N said before getting taken and hauled out of his cell.

With a final nod of farewell, Y/N followed the officers out of the cell.

Y/N stumbled as he was roughly shoved into the transfer truck, the harsh clang of metal echoing in the confined space as the door slammed shut behind him. As he regained his footing, he glanced around, expecting to see other prisoners crammed into the cramped interior alongside him.

But to his surprise, he was alone.

The sudden jolt of acceleration startled Y/N, sending him tumbling against the metal walls of the truck as it lurched forward at full speed. His heart raced in his chest as the world blurred past outside the small window, the sound of the engine drowning out his thoughts as he struggled to make sense of the chaos unfolding around him.

Confusion swirled in Y/N's mind as he struggled to make sense of the situation. "What's happening? Why am I going to the Raft alone?" he demanded, his voice tinged with fear and uncertainty.

The driver's response was chillingly matter-of-fact. "You're not going to the Raft," he stated bluntly, his tone devoid of emotion as he reached for a canister that resembled a harmless bottle of whipped cream.

Before Y/N could react, the driver tossed the canister into the back of the truck. In an instant, a thick yellow smog erupted from the canister, enveloping Y/N in its choking embrace. He gasped for breath, his vision swimming as the noxious fumes seeped into his lungs, suffocating him from within.

A wave of dizziness washed over Y/N as the world around him spun out of control. His limbs grew heavy, his eyelids drooping as darkness closed in around him. With one last desperate gasp for air, he succumbed to the overpowering haze, slipping into unconsciousness.

/ / / /

"What the fuck?!? Help! Help! HELP!" Y/N's mind began to snap back into reality as he heard someone freaking out.

As Y/N groaned and slowly regained consciousness, he found himself in a dimly lit concrete room, surrounded by seven other individuals. His head throbbed with dull pain as he tried to make sense of his surroundings.

One of the others, a hybrid creature resembling an Anglerfish, human, and reptile, was in a state of panic, thrashing about wildly as he awoke. Before he could utter a word, a tiger-like man grabbed him by the neck, his voice low and menacing as he ordered the panicked individual to silence.

"Shut up," the tiger-like man growled, his grip tightening on the struggling creature's throat. "Listen here! Ralf was sleeping and you, what? Where the fuck are we?" The tiger's mind was starting to clear up he was getting a better understanding as to where they were.

As the panic subsided, the others in the room began to take notice of their situation. Y/N's mind raced as he realized the gravity of their predicament. "Where the heck are we?" he asked, his voice tinged with a mixture of fear and confusion.

The tiger-like man released his grip on the Anglerfish-human-reptile hybrid, his expression grim as he surveyed their surroundings.

"One thing's for sure—we're not here by choice." A man made of metal said.

It was then that they all noticed the collars around their necks. Panic bubbled up within Y/N as he realized the implications of their situation.

The metal guy tried removing the collar, but was given a electric shock.

As the heavy door creaked open, a tall figure stepped into the room, his presence commanding attention as he surveyed the group with cool detachment. Dressed in a sleek black suit that seemed to ripple with subtle movements, his angular features were accentuated by the sharp lines of his crimson eyes, which gleamed with an intensity that sent a shiver down Y/N's spine.

"Allow me to introduce myself," the man began, his voice smooth and commanding as he addressed the group. "I am Mister Sinister."

His words hung in the air like a tangible weight, the gravity of his presence palpable as he regarded each member of the group in turn. "And you," he continued, his gaze lingering on each individual with an unsettling intensity, "are the Essex Enforcers."

Y/N's heart raced as Mister Sinister called out each member by name, his voice carrying a sense of authority that brooked no argument.

"Y/N, Parasite, Metallo, Ghost Freak, Ripjaw, Rath, Ion, and XLR8," Mister Sinister said, his voice resonating with power as he acknowledged each member of the group. "You have been chosen for a purpose—one that will test your limits and push you beyond your wildest expectations."

Metallo and Rath wasted no hesitation in going to attack him.

Then they were suddenly overcome by a surge of excruciating pain that wracked their bodies. With a flick of his wrist, Mister Sinister activated the Parallax devices embedded in their necks, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through their veins.

Metallo and Rath cried out in agony as their bodies convulsed uncontrollably, their limbs rendered useless by the overwhelming force of the Parallax devices. They collapsed to the ground, writhing in pain as their muscles spasmed and their vision blurred with agony.

Mister Sinister regarded them with cold detachment, his crimson eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he surveyed the incapacitated duo. "I would advise against any further attempts at defiance," he said calmly, his voice carrying a hint of warning. "You are no match for the power at my disposal. Not to mention expendable. This team can work with six."

Y/N watched in horror as Metallo and Rath writhed on the ground, their bodies contorted in agony.

"Oh shit!" Parasite said in shock.

"Jesus Christ!" XLR8 said.

"No. Just me." Mister Sinistwr said as he stopped the electric shook.

Sinister gestures towards a holographic display, which flickers to life, projecting an image of the Parallax device.

The Parallax device is a high-tech collar worn by each member of the team, designed to exert control over their actions and behaviors. The collar is equipped with advanced technology that allows it to monitor the wearer's vital signs, brain activity, and location in real-time. It is capable of emitting electrical shocks or releasing sedatives to incapacitate the wearer in the event of disobedience or attempts to escape. The collar is linked to a central control system operated by Mister Sinister or his designated agents, giving him the ability to remotely activate or deactivate its functions as needed.

"Behold, the Parallax device. I took it upon myself to have these installed in each of you e-bike you were sleeping. This is for ensuring that obedience and compliance are non-negotiable." Mister Sinister began.

His voice resonates with authority as he continues, "The Parallax device is more than a mere accessory. It is a safeguard against disobedience, a deterrent against defiance. Should any of you entertain thoughts of rebellion or insubordination, rest assured that the consequences will be swift and severe."

Sinister's gaze sweeps across the room, his eyes locking onto each member in turn. "But fear not, my dear Enforcers. Those who remain loyal and obedient will find themselves handsomely rewarded."

/ / / /

Roles

Big Chill (Y/N):
Role: Big Chill serves as the team's reconnaissance specialist and aerial support. His ability to fly and manipulate temperature makes him invaluable for gathering intelligence, scouting enemy positions, and providing cover fire during missions.

Parasite:
Role: Parasite functions as the team's infiltrator and disruptor. His power to absorb energy and control others allows him to infiltrate enemy ranks, weaken opponents, and sow chaos from within. He excels at subduing powerful adversaries and turning their own abilities against them.

Metallo:
Role: Metallo is the team's tank and heavy hitter. His metallic physiology grants him enhanced strength and durability, making him well-suited for frontline combat and absorbing enemy attacks. He serves as a formidable obstacle for opponents to overcome, drawing their attention away from more vulnerable teammates.

Ghost Freak:
Role: Ghost Freak operates as the team's stealth operative and reconnaissance expert. His ability to phase through solid objects and possess others makes him ideal for gathering intelligence, infiltrating enemy facilities, and covertly eliminating high-value targets. He excels at reconnaissance and sabotage missions where subtlety is key.

Ripjaw:
Role: Ripjaw serves as the team's aquatic specialist and close-quarters combatant. His aquatic physiology and enhanced strength make him a formidable force in underwater environments, where he can navigate swiftly and engage enemies with ferocious melee attacks. He excels at underwater reconnaissance, rescue missions, and amphibious assaults.

Rath:
Role: Rath is the team's frontline fighter and berserker. His feline physiology grants him enhanced strength, agility, and reflexes, allowing him to charge into battle with reckless abandon and overwhelm opponents with sheer brute force. He serves as the team's vanguard, leading the charge and inspiring his teammates with his ferocity.

Ion:
Role: Ion functions as the team's wildcard and powerhouse. His mastery over energy manipulation makes him a versatile asset in both offense and defense, capable of unleashing devastating energy blasts, creating barriers, and absorbing enemy attacks. He serves as the team's trump card, turning the tide of battle with his raw power and unpredictability.

XLR8
Role: XLR8 serves as the team's scout and hit-and-run specialist. His incredible speed and agility make him ideal for reconnaissance missions, hit-and-run tactics, and delivering swift, surgical strikes against enemy targets. XLR8 excels at gathering intelligence, outmaneuvering opponents in combat, and providing rapid support to his teammates when needed.

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Should the story take place during season one or two?

Should I add a second love interest?

Would you like to see a version of Swampfire? Or any other versions of Ben 10 aliens?