The storm had barely passed before the world erupted.
By morning, headlines screamed across every network:
"GENERAL ROSS EXPOSED?"
"A MONSTER OF HIS OWN MAKING?"
"THE ABOMINATION TRUTH."
The footage of Alex's confrontation with Ross played on endless loop. Ross dangling in the air like a rag doll, Alex's green eyes blazing as he declared the truth—that Abomination was Ross's creation. That his so-called "heroic hunts" for the Hulk had been nothing more than cover for his own experiments.
At first, government spokesmen tried to bury it, dismissing the scene as "enemy propaganda," blaming Alex for manipulation. But then survivors of the rampage spoke. Soldiers' families began to come forward, whispering that Ross had been running black projects for years. Leaked files hit the networks within days, damning evidence of experiments, failed subjects, and cover-ups buried under military silence.
The truth spread faster than any official denial.
Protests surged outside military bases. Mothers who had lost sons during "classified missions" screamed into cameras. Families broken by Abomination's rampage demanded Ross's arrest. "He made that monster. He killed my family!" one grieving father shouted, holding up a charred photo of his children. His cries went viral.
The Senate called for emergency hearings. Panels convened overnight. And for the first time in his long career, the untouchable General Thaddeus Ross found himself cornered—not by an enemy, but by his own people.
He appeared before the cameras, jaw tight, bandaged from where Alex had thrown him. His gravelly voice tried to command the room.
"This nation is under attack. That man—Alexander Morrow—is the real threat. He twists the truth, manipulates perception. Abomination was—"
But his words rang hollow. Every revelation, every document, every witness contradicted him. The more he spoke, the more hollow his authority sounded.
Across the country, calls grew louder: "PUT ROSS IN PRISON!"
Crowds filled the streets, demanding justice, demanding accountability. Senators—once his allies—publicly distanced themselves. Some even denounced him outright.
For the families who had lost everything in Harlem, no explanation, no excuse could wash away the blood. They gathered outside the courthouse steps with candles, portraits, and broken voices. Their chants were not of politics but of grief:
"Ross made Abomination. Ross killed them. Ross must pay."
And for the first time, the shadow of General Ross—a man who had built a career on commanding fear—faltered under the weight of truth.
Yet somewhere in the city, inside a highly secured warehouse, two people were talking in private. Fury was the first to break the silence.
"Did you have to expose him like that?" he asked.
Alex leaned back and replied, "I'm serious about being a doctor now. I don't like innocents getting killed over something that's not their choice."
He looked Fury in the eye. "Ross brought it upon himself. Think about it—if he isn't stopped, what more can he do with his obsession over the Hulk?"
Fury studied Alex's face, his thoughts unreadable. "Anyway… where is Abomination?" he finally asked.
Alex gestured to the shadows, and from the far side of the warehouse, the sleeping form of Abomination emerged, wrapped in darkness. "All yours," Alex said.
Fury narrowed his eyes. "Is he unconscious?"
"Yeah. Knocked him out with something strong enough to put down an elephant. He'll be out for a few more hours. Better keep giving him heavier doses," Alex advised.
Fury nodded to his men, and they immediately began loading Abomination into the Quinjet.
Fury fixed his eye on Alex, his voice low and steady.
"Stay alert. Ross won't let this slide. He'll twist the story, paint you as the problem, and do whatever it takes to bring you down. He's not after peace—he's after control. Don't give him an excuse."
Alex leaned back slightly, the hint of a smile on his face.
"I'm not someone he can control, Director. If he pushes, he'll regret it."
Fury's jaw set, but he gave a short nod.
"Just keep it clean. No more blood than necessary. Things are messy enough as it is."
With that, Fury turned and left the warehouse, his men moving Abomination onto the waiting Quinjet.
Not long after, the door opened again. Two guards stepped aside to allow another man in—quiet, cautious, with his hands visible at his sides. His demeanor carried none of Ross's aggression.
"Hello, Mr. Morrow," he said calmly. "My name's Bruce. Or… the Hulk, if you prefer."
Alex looked at him for a moment, then rose slightly and extended his hand.
"Dr. Banner," he said evenly. "Good to finally meet you. Sit down—you've arrived at the right time. I could use another patient."
Bruce gave a faint, almost weary smile.
"Patient, huh? I suppose that fits. I've needed help for a long time."
Alex waved a hand lightly, settling into his chair.
"Don't mind me. I just want to help. I'm curious about… Hulk, about what you're dealing with."
Bruce's tired eyes softened a little, and he gave a slow nod.
"It's okay. Honestly… I'd rather be here with you. At least I know if I go green, I won't be able to hurt you."
Alex nodded, the corner of his mouth lifting in a calm, reassuring smile.
Alex leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table.
"Then let's start there. Tell me about him—about Hulk. Not the science, not the government files. Tell me how you feel when it happens."
Bruce's jaw tightened. His hands clasped together, knuckles whitening as he looked down at them.
"It feels… like drowning. Like something bigger than me has my lungs, my heart, my rage. I'm conscious, but I'm not in control. Hulk doesn't think in words—he feels. Anger, fear, pain. That's all he knows."
Alex listened silently, his eyes steady, his presence calm and unyielding.
"And you carry that every day," he said softly.
Bruce let out a dry laugh, though it held no humor.
"Every second. People think I'm afraid of the Hulk hurting them. Truth is, I'm more afraid he'll never let me go. That I'll never just… be me again."
Alex tilted his head, shadows curling faintly at the edge of the room in response to his steady focus.
"What if I told you Hulk doesn't have to be your prison? That he could be your partner instead of your curse?"
Bruce looked up sharply, caught between disbelief and desperate hope.
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