The Hulk shook his head like a stubborn dog resisting a leash.
"No fight! You're a friend! No fight!"
Despite lacking Dr. Banner's intelligence, the Hulk could still recognize allies.
Lock had just saved his girlfriend. That, in the Hulk's eyes, earned him a pass.
Besides, Lock's power came from Hulk's blood. The green giant sensed something familiar—something like kinship. So even in his rage-fueled state, he didn't treat Lock as a threat.
But Lock didn't care about that.
Without warning, he lunged forward, fists flying—attacking both the Hulk and the Abomination at once.
From the helicopter above, Elizabeth gasped. "Is he insane?! Why is he going after the Hulk too?!"
General Ross frowned, staring through his binoculars. At first, he thought this mystery man might be on their side. But now he was fighting the Hulk? It was getting harder to tell friend from foe.
And if Lock wasn't a friend… what the hell was Ross supposed to do about him?
Down below, the Hulk took the first few punches without striking back. He didn't want to fight. But then Lock slammed his head through the pavement, and the Hulk ended up with a mouthful of concrete.
His eyes widened. Rage boiled over.
"ROAR!"
"ROAR!"
"ROAR!"
Two monsters, one green and massive, the other blood-covered and grinning, roared in unison.
Their howls echoed across New York City, shaking windows, toppling scaffolding, and sending civilians into a panic. The sound was everywhere, like an incoming god of war.
People ran. Cars crashed. Sirens blared. The city descended into chaos.
General Ross clenched his jaw as he watched the destruction unfold from the skies.
"Three monsters," he muttered. "This night's a goddamn nightmare."
—
On the battlefield:
Lock: "Ha! Hulk—you're too slow."
Hulk: "Hrrgh... Friends... can fight too..."
Abomination: "Hahaha! This is fun! Again!"
Abomination lunged.
BOOM.
Lock met him midair with a spinning kick, sending the brute crashing through a row of abandoned vehicles. Blood trickled from the corners of Abomination's mouth.
A first.
The military had hit Abomination with everything—RPGs, sonic cannons, even the Hulk—and never drawn blood. But Lock? Lock hit different.
Abomination was thrilled.
"YES! That's the stuff! Come on—again!"
And again, he charged.
Lock didn't dodge. He didn't even guard. He fought with reckless abandon—punch for punch, hit for hit—burning through his newfound power like it was infinite.
His fists sent shockwaves.
Each punch tossed his enemies hundreds of meters.
Cracks webbed across the city streets.
The ground was no longer just broken—it was obliterated.
Even with both the Hulk and Abomination attacking together, Lock held the upper hand. They came at him like wild animals, but he was sharp, more deliberate. Eventually, he began trying something new.
Moves.
He wasn't a trained martial artist, but he was familiar. Childhood memories of kung fu flicks, casual sparring sessions—stuff most people forgot—now made sense.
He had the speed. He had the strength. Now he had control.
He tried bits of Wing Chun. Then some Tai Chi. Muscle memory from old movies returned, and Lock moved like a storm given rhythm.
Abomination and the Hulk were tossed around like amateurs.
They tried to flank him. He twisted, redirected. They swung. He used their momentum to slam them into each other. Friendly fire was inevitable—and enraging.
The two giants began roaring not just in rage, but in frustration.
—
High above, General Ross stared, speechless.
One Hulk had cost the military billions. Helicopters down. Tanks crushed. Entire divisions routed.
And now?
Now there were two more. One even stronger—and still sane.
That was the terrifying part.
Lock wasn't out of control. He was thinking. Choosing. Which made him far more dangerous.
Ross bit his lip. "Unless we go nuclear, there's no stopping him."
But even that might not work. A normal missile wouldn't touch him. With his speed and reaction time, Lock could escape the blast radius before impact. Only a massive-area nuclear detonation might kill him—and even then, it wasn't guaranteed.
On the battlefield, Lock noticed something.
The Hulk's power was rising.
Every hit made him angrier. And the angrier he got, the stronger he became. There was no upper limit. That was the Hulk's true horror: infinite potential.
In the comics, he'd punched planets apart.
Lock could only pray this wasn't that kind of universe.
As for Abomination, he was starting to tire. He didn't have the Hulk's endless rage-fueled stamina. His breathing grew ragged.
Satisfied, Lock decided the experiment was over.
He kicked Hulk aside, then spun behind Abomination—hooked his fingers—and plunged them into the beast's spine.
CRACK!
The scream was inhuman. Abomination dropped like a sack of bricks, unable to move.
Lock turned to the Hulk.
"It's over. Go. Come back when you're Banner again."
The Hulk growled. "I'm Hulk. Not Banner."
Lock's voice was calm. "Then who's going to take care of your girlfriend?"
The green giant paused. He looked up at the helicopter, where Elizabeth was watching.
He hesitated… then grunted, took three steps back—and launched himself into the night.
—
In the original MCU timeline, Hulk had nearly killed Abomination with a chain before Ross captured him. After that, his whereabouts were unknown until "Shang-Chi," where he returned for a staged sparring match with Wong.
Now, Lock had rewritten that future.
He looked to the skies. "General Ross, cleanup's yours."
With that, he leapt—and vanished.
—
Later, Lock met with Dr. Stern.
The scientist looked awful. His skull was bulging from gamma exposure, but he'd refused to take any healing serum, instead fixating on analyzing it.
Lock dropped five vials in front of him.
"You saw what happened tonight. You're too exposed now. Don't go back to your lab. Stay with me—I'll supply you with as much serum as you need for research."
Stern didn't hesitate. He nodded.
He knew he was caught in something massive. Hiding was the smartest play.
He'd seen what the serum could do. Compared to that, all his past research was laughable—child's play.
—
With that settled, Lock finally had a moment to think.
Where the hell was he?
The Marvel Universe wasn't one world—it was many. Comics, alternate timelines, What-Ifs… an endless multiverse of chaos. If this were a comic world, he might already be doomed.
In those realities, no matter how strong you got, someone stronger always appeared—often to erase you with a snap.
Even the Hulk had been enslaved in the comics, chained and humiliated for eons.
In the movies? He was made into a gladiator pet by the Grandmaster.
If Thor hadn't come along, Hulk would've stayed there until someone stronger beat him into dust.
Lock's power came from Hulk's blood, but even he wouldn't survive cosmic-level threats.
Fortunately, this seemed like the MCU. The cinematic universe.
It had logic. Rules. Survival was possible.
The Hulk lived until the end. Maybe Lock could too—if he was careful.
But he couldn't count on luck. After all, even Iron Man—the core hero of the MCU—died.
Strength mattered more than plot armor.
And in this universe, threats were everywhere. Not just Thanos.
There was the Grandmaster on Sakaar—powerful, ageless, cruel.
Ego, Star-Lord's father—a literal god-planet.
Dormammu—the ruler of the Dark Dimension.
The severed Celestial head mined by the Collector.
The Infinity Stones—remnants of primordial singularities.
Who forged the Stones?
Why did they end up on Earth?
Who was powerful enough to scatter them across galaxies—and why?
There were the Watchers. The Eternals. The Celestials beneath the Earth. The Living Tribunal. Maybe even the One Above All.
In a world like this, strength was never enough.
The Avengers won battles they shouldn't have. Coincidence? Destiny? Or was something unseen pulling the strings?
Lock didn't know.
But until he did, he would do what he had to.
Survive.
---
A/N: Please Leave A Comment Or Drop A Powerstone It'll mean alot to me...