The streets were emptier than they had ever been on the first night. There was no suggestion of civilian, criminal or comrade's presence as he walked alone down the dark alleyways. His shadow stretched out, like a dark beacon of solitude. He tightened his iconic green jacket, and shivered.

The streets were eerily calm. It was the first quiet night in years, since the device had attached to his wrist, all those years ago. It was quiet. Too quiet.

And yet, even after the utterance of that old cliché, nothing sprung forth. No menacing otherworldly spectre, no Vilgax, no Zombozo, No Charmcaster, no-one.

His enemies seemed to have absconded along with his allies, as though the departure of Kevin and Gwen had signalled an end to an age. No longer was Ben surrounded by either motley crews, he was for the first time in quite a while, utterly alone.

Trudging forward, he mused the change might serve him well. He had always saved the day before, what need of company did he have? Were they there only to serve as witnesses to his grandeur?

Unconsciously he admitted they had always assisted him greatly in their own right, and were as much heroes as he was. Out loud, he shrugged, concealing his isolation.

Necessary or not, he was without peers. The magic of friendship had gone from his life. They no longer shared its magic with him.

They'd had some big adventure, tons of fun.

Gwen had a big heart.

Kevin was always faithful and strong.

If only he had showed them more kindness… It would have been an easy feat.

As it was, he felt incomplete… as though there was more he had wanted to do with them, to see with them, to say to them.

He wanted them to know they were his very best friends.

Of course, he could still call them. Pick up a phone and send a text, or place a call. But it lacked appeal, there was no personal touch. He should have said it in person.

So much left unsaid. It was the end of an era.

Gwen and Kevin were gone, not forever, but their return would usher in a new dynamic between the trio. Something would change, much like his relationship with Grandpa Max had. They would still be close, no doubt.

But never as close and intimate as they had been.

Skulking back to his apartment, he sighed deeply, fiddling with his wrist and slowly, mournfully closing the door behind him.

No-one would knock on the door until the next Sunday morning.