The earth trembled.
Winds howled.
The lakeside cabin at Culver Lake, exquisite moments ago, became a pile of ruins in the blink of an eye as the shockwave swept through.
The ground beneath Hawk's feet was already cracked like a spiderweb.
From within the debris came a low, rumbling roar—growing louder, closer.
Until—
Boom!
A massive, pure-green figure blasted free of the wreckage like a shell from a cannon, stamping the ground as it reappeared before Hawk.
The next second—
Hulk roared, splintering the ground beneath his feet with thunderous steps, and charged like a raging bull straight at Hawk.
Hawk didn't hesitate. He kicked off hard—the shattered earth beneath him turning to powder—and streaked through the noonday light like a bolt of light, surging to meet Hulk head-on.
"Hulk!"
"Roar!"
Thud!
Thud, thud!
Within Hawk's Microcosmos, flames sprayed and flared.
He turned himself into a projectile, slammed into Hulk's massive torso, and kept driving forward, hauling Hulk backward through the air.
Hulk's bulk smashed through one thick tree after another along the lakeside.
Enraged, Hulk hammered his fists down on Hawk's back again and again.
Hawk's face flushed; the fire of his Microcosmos burned brighter still.
No fancy technique.
No ornate moves.
As he bulldozed Hulk toward Culver Lake, Hawk ate those blows and answered with his own—his right fist blurring as he pounded Hulk's waist, one strike after another.
Hulk's eyes flared with fury.
Hawk's eyes grew colder, like ice.
Boom!
Hawk drove Hulk straight into Culver Lake. They shattered the ice sheet in a crash, two thick pillars of water geysering upward. Using Hulk's bulk as footing the instant they hit the water, Hawk planted both feet on Hulk and, with eyes like winter, rained punches down beneath the surface.
He'd chosen his battlefield during earlier scouting runs.
Culver Lake.
More precisely—the water of Culver Lake.
Since awakening his Microcosmos, Hawk had complete control over his five senses.
Even underwater, he could close his own breathing and maintain full combat performance through the power of his Microcosmos.
Hulk could not.
No matter how strong, Hulk still needed air. In the films he passed out from lack of oxygen in high altitude; in the battle against Thanos he still had to stick his head above water to breathe.
So—
Culver Lake would be Hulk's grave.
Hulk clearly disagreed.
With a single mountainous slap he knocked Hawk away and tried to surge up toward the surface. But Hawk moved underwater as fluidly as on land. A pulse of force rippled out—he flashed beneath Hulk, seized his leg, and dragged him deeper toward the lakebed.
The whole of Culver Lake seemed to boil.
Jets of water kept erupting from the surface; the ice split and shattered.
Watching all of it, Gwen stood frozen. When she snapped out of it, she sprinted to the shore and peered into the water.
A giant green body was easy to spot.
Hawk wasn't.
Even so…
Gwen forced her eyes wide, tracking Hulk's limbs thrashing defensively beneath the surface, and finally exhaled in relief.
In short—
If Hawk were losing, Hulk would already be up top.
But he wasn't. Hulk's posture was defensive. The advantage belonged to Hawk.
As that thought formed, footsteps sounded behind her.
Gwen started, turned—and saw the woman who'd been sprawled on her car roof moments ago. The tight-suit agent had come to—pale-faced, but on her feet—and stopped beside Gwen.
Natasha also fixed her gaze on the churning lake, where water pillars kept spearing upward as if an apocalyptic battle raged below.
She scanned for signs of Hulk while fishing a communicator from her pocket to call HQ.
As for Gwen?
Since she hadn't arrived with Hawk, Natasha took her for a passerby.
Then—
Thunk!
Just as Natasha was about to place the call, her body jolted. She reached instinctively for the back of her head and turned.
Gwen stood there gripping a length of wood she'd found who-knows-where—eyes showing three parts nerves, three parts apology, three parts resolve, and one part worry.
What kind of pie-chart expression is that? flashed through Natasha's mind—then her eyes rolled back. The communicator fell from her hand, and she toppled to the side.
And that was that.
The Black Widow of S.H.I.E.L.D., Natasha Romanoff, felled by a high-school girl not yet eighteen with a single bonk.
Who would believe it?
Gwen yelped, dropped the stick, and caught the fainted Natasha.
Biting her lip, she slipped her arms around Natasha's waist from behind and began inching her backward—trying to drag her out of the battle zone.
She hadn't meant to hurt Natasha.
But seeing Natasha with Bruce, and about to call in backup, she'd acted on instinct.
That wouldn't do.
Hawk was here to avenge his sister. That was righteous.
So—
Gwen knocked Natasha out, then focused on getting her clear, because if she stayed, the fight might hurt her.
This was a duel between Hawk and Hulk.
Hawk wasn't using dirty tricks, and he hadn't harmed innocents.
So Hulk didn't get to either.
One on one.
That was fair.
Underwater—
With a huge plume, Hulk gouged twin trenches across the lakebed like a plow tearing earth.
Press the advantage; do not spare the routed!
Thud!
Hawk kicked off again, detonating another geyser behind him, flashed in front of Hulk, and drove a right straight into him.
In that instant—
Hulk, already sprawled on the lakebed, bowed under the blow. The lakebed collapsed further with a rumble; muddy clouds bubbled up, swallowing Hulk and clouding Hawk's view.
The next second—
The lakebed began to writhe, like a giant earthworm tunneling beneath it—rippling ten meters in the blink of an eye.
"Trying to run?"
"Think you can?"
Hawk sneered and streaked after the moving swell, smashing his fist down again.
Hulk burst from the muck—eyes wide, bellowing—tanked the punch with his chest, and was blown back yet again. In that same instant, he flung something he'd yanked from the lakebed straight at Hawk.
A surfboard—who knew how long it had slept below, furred with moss.
Hawk didn't dodge. He met it head-on.
Boom!
He staggered an inch; the board split in two and whipped past him into the murk.
That tiny hitch was all Hulk needed.
Splash!
The lake's surface erupted. A green head burst into the air, gulping mouthfuls of precious oxygen.
Gwen—having just hauled Natasha to safety and gasping for breath—looked up and flinched at the sight.
Then—
Half his body breaching the surface, Hulk paused—then, as if remembering something, roared down at the water.
Hawk's hand clamped Hulk's right leg at the last moment. With a cold smile and a flare of Microcosmos, Hawk poured power through the water, yanked Hulk down again, and slung him back toward the lakebed.
Hulk, hurled under once more, spread his limbs and strained for the surface so close above.
Too late.
Boom!
His back slammed into the bottom. As he tried to repeat the tunneling trick, Hawk was already there. One crushing punch flipped Hulk over before he could dig.
"Don't you know? The same technique won't work twice on a Saint."
"Die!"
"Hulk!!"
"Sonic Fist!!"
Thud, thud, thud, thud!
Below, the water churned like a storm.
Above, pillars of water kept spearing skyward.
One column after another erupted with booming reports from below. Gwen, back at the shore, stood stunned, watching each spout burst and fall.
Then—
With the final blast spent and the last water column collapsing, the boiling lake stilled—its surface calming visibly, second by second.
By the time Gwen reacted, Culver Lake had returned to its former quiet.
So…
Was it over?
Who won?
Eyes wide and unblinking, Gwen stared at the water, hoping—afraid of seeing anything but the result she wanted.
…
(End of Chapter)
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