The thunder that had shaken heaven and earth finally fell silent.
The ground ceased its violent trembling.
The swirling red sandstorm that had connected earth to sky gradually calmed its fury, dissipating like an angry spirit finally put to rest.
Throughout New York City, people cautiously emerged from their hiding places, peering out windows and around corners to witness the aftermath of the destructive spectacle that had terrorized them.
Steve Rogers could hardly believe what he was seeing—or rather, what he was no longer seeing. The two titans were gone, and the catastrophic battle had ended as suddenly as it began.
Nick Fury had his own theory. "Perhaps the Plumbers intervened," he said, his voice still raspy from the concussive blasts. "That red lightning… that wasn't one of Ben's abilities."
Though SHIELD's files on Ben were incomplete, judging from the initial blast that had sent the Hulk skyward, Fury estimated the kid's instantaneous explosive force at several hundred tons. By Earth's standards, that was absolutely heavyweight. But Fury knew all too well that even that shouldn't have been enough to defeat the Hulk. Hundreds of tons might be Ben's limit, but for the Hulk, it was merely his starting point.
Therefore, the one who had truly defeated the Hulk had to be whoever controlled that crackling red energy.
"I'm afraid we're looking at another new Plumber officer," Fury murmured to himself, mentally cataloging every known extraterrestrial and coming up empty. Four Arms and Heatblast were both red, but the former was a brawler, and the latter was a pyrokinetic. This was something else entirely.
Fury was beginning to realize that his understanding of the Plumbers was embarrassingly superficial. He had no idea how many agents the intergalactic organization actually employed, or what the full extent of their capabilities might be. A single operative had just been dispatched and had immediately neutralized one of Earth's most powerful weapons. Such terrifying force, such an enormous threat living right alongside humanity… and the idiots in Hydra were wasting their time with petty infighting.
Fury desperately wanted to grab Alexander Pierce by the throat and shake some sense into him.
Then again, he had to admit, when these aliens were on your side, it was incredibly reassuring.
"Too bad they don't report to me," he muttered, shaking his head with a tinge of regret before shouting at Steve. "Captain, move out! We still have a mission to complete!"
The natural ecosystem of the suburban park had been completely obliterated. The soil beneath Bruce Banner's feet had been churned and reformed by the cosmic forces unleashed during the battle. He lay in a massive crater, looking utterly miserable as mud and debris continued to rain down around him, burying half his body in the earth.
He was gasping for breath, his eyes unfocused and vacant.
"What… what the hell just happened?"
For the first time he could remember, he'd felt an emotion other than rage emanating from the Hulk. The terrible monster seemed to have encountered something even more monstrous and had retreated into the darkest corners of Banner's psyche, cowering like a child afraid of thunder.
"Even you ran away?" Banner muttered to himself with bitter irony. "And now you expect me to fight?"
He would have to fight with his intellect. The most durable part of his body was probably his inexplicably indestructible pants. Beyond that, the only thing he could take any pride in was his collection of seven doctoral degrees.
The crunch of footsteps on sandy soil made Banner tense up immediately. He couldn't remember what had transpired, but he knew with certainty that it took a monster to defeat a monster. In his mind, he'd already conjured a terrifying image: a demon with three heads and six arms, a green face with protruding fangs, an absolute nightmare escaped from hell itself.
However, when the owner of those footsteps actually appeared, Banner realized how completely wrong he was.
The figure was a man in a black spider-themed costume, with a waist not even as thick as the Hulk's forearm. He didn't look like a powerlifter; he looked more like a college student who spent too much time in the library. Banner would sooner believe one of those spam emails from a Nigerian prince than accept that this person had defeated the Hulk.
"You're… Prime?" Banner recognized the figure as one of the fugitives SHIELD was hunting.
Perhaps sensing that the vigilante harbored no ill intentions, or maybe because even the Hulk had been so decisively beaten, Banner simply lay back and gave up any pretense of resistance.
"What do you intend to do with me?" A defeated combatant was always destined to become a prisoner.
"I have no intention of doing anything to you, Dr. Banner," Ben replied, jumping down into the crater. He removed his mask, revealing his youthful face.
A kid? Banner's eyes widened in disbelief. "The person who defeated the Hulk was a child?"
Ben shook his head with a slight smile. "Not just me. I had help from my alien friend, Four Arms. He really enjoyed fighting the Hulk."
Four Arms genuinely appreciated the Hulk because the green giant was incredibly durable—a rare quality. To be honest, if Ben hadn't channeled the Old Power and ended the fight quickly with the absolute strength of Sakaarian red lightning, the two titans would probably still be trading blows. The Hulk reminded Ben of Broly from Dragon Ball; if allowed to gradually build his power, he would eventually reach whatever level his opponent achieved. But Ben hadn't forgotten the bigger picture. He wasn't as battle-obsessed as a Saiyan.
"Dr. Banner, I know you're a good person," Ben said, his tone serious. "Pierce deceived you. He told you we were Hydra, but in reality, he's the one leading them. Right now, Hydra has infiltrated and occupied most of the power structures in this country. We need your help."
Banner crawled out of the dirt, reaching up to touch his surprisingly uninjured face before tightening his loose pants with a puzzled expression. "You have a way to defeat the Hulk so completely that he won't come out, and you still need my help? I can't imagine what I could possibly offer. You don't want my pants, do you?"
Hearing this, Ben's gaze dropped to Banner's somewhat soft midsection, and he grimaced with obvious distaste. "What would I want with your pants?"
"Then how, exactly, can I help you?"
"How can I help you?" Dr. Otto Octavius asked, looking at the blood-stained and disheveled Curt Connors with a mixture of shock and alarm. Though the mutagenic serum had lost its potency, you could still see residual scales and patches of green skin across his old friend's body. The frightening sight had startled Otto when Connors first appeared at his door.
He studied Connors's scarred features with growing confusion. "How did you become like this, Curt? My friend, what happened to you?"
"Look at yourself," Otto's voice rose with agitation, his anger at his colleague's apparent fall from grace overriding his fear. "You look like some kind of monster… a criminal. Using your research for destruction, disrupting the social order… I barely recognize you."
"You're wrong, Otto. You've been deceived. The real villains are someone else entirely," Connors replied, his voice weak but determined as he leaned heavily against the wall. "SHIELD is Hydra. Because of Operation Paperclip, Hydra's dormant cells were allowed to hatch again in this country, and now they're more powerful than ever before."
He slumped further, the words shocking Otto to his core. "Ben discovered their conspiracy. We tried to eliminate them, but it was too late. Most of those in power had already been corrupted…"
"You might not believe me," Connors rasped, "but I need your help, Otto."
"Aren't you afraid I'll turn you in?" Otto didn't immediately accept his claims. He picked up the remote and turned on the television, where Alexander Pierce's face filled the screen, broadcasting a national address.
"He's planning to publicly execute several of the 'criminals,'" Otto observed grimly.
After Ben's victory over the Hulk, the fugitive heroes' evacuation had gone disastrously wrong. Pierce had managed to capture Nick Fury in the chaos. He'd also found Harry and Natasha in the rubble, and when Hawkeye attempted a rescue, he too had been captured. Now, Pierce was once again issuing wanted orders through every broadcast channel. Anyone who spotted the fugitives must report their whereabouts immediately or be considered an accomplice. Not only that, but Osborn Industries and Stark Industries had been surrounded and were awaiting sanctions.
In this situation, it would certainly be safer to hand Connors over.
But Connors shook his head with firm resolve. "You won't do that, Otto. I know you. We're friends. You always said that science and technology should exist to make people happy, to make the world a better place. But look at SHIELD—they're carrying out terrorist attacks and threatening innocent people. Are you really willing to believe them?"
Otto fell silent, considering his friend's desperate words. Finally, he asked quietly, "How can I help you?"
"Don't give in to them," Connors said urgently. "Tell everyone in the academic community that we're not Hydra—Pierce is."
"But what good will that do?" Otto asked, confused. "You can't seriously expect a bunch of scholars to help you fight."
"It's about faith, Otto," Connors replied with a pained smile. "We aren't asking them to take up arms, but they need to know the truth."
He looked directly into Otto's eyes, his own filled with unwavering determination. "We might very well die in this fight. That isn't frightening—not at all."
"But I will not die branded as a Hydra agent. I won't die as a monster."
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