Culver Lake's surface had returned to perfect calm.
So had the waters below.
Muddy lakewater washed over Hawk's body.
Expressionless, he stared at the immense green figure lying motionless, half-buried in the silt of the lakebed.
Hulk.
Yes.
He was dead.
The method was simple—exactly as Hawk had planned. Trap him underwater and drown him alive.
Simple to say, not simple to do.
Hawk cast an inward glance at his Microcosmos.
Inside, everything was in disorder. Even the Phoenix constellation that lit his Microcosmos was dim and lifeless.
There was no helping it.
Hulk was truly strong. Ordinary people unleash terrifying strength in the moment of drowning; Hulk, whose power only grows with anger, all the more so.
In his final thrash before death, Hulk had almost forced Hawk into the Phoenix's rebirth—one step from burning to ashes and being reborn.
But…
Hawk had still won.
He watched the still corpse on the lakebed, turning the truth over in his mind.
At that moment—
Faint wisps of green light rose from Hulk's massive body, then streaked straight into Hawk.
Hum—
Hawk felt his Microcosmos begin to rotate on its own, slowly, like a gentle pull guiding those green strands inward.
As each filament flowed in, the shattered Microcosmos bloomed with new life.
"This is…"
"Gamma energy?"
His brows lifted as he looked down at Hulk.
As the last of Hulk's strength was drawn into Hawk's Microcosmos, the enormous body began to shrink. The glow on its surface faded. When the final trace of power vanished, the hulking corpse also faded away without a sound—
and in its place lay Bruce Banner, motionless, life or death unknown, on the lakebed.
Hawk's eyes flashed as he looked at the now-unmasked Bruce.
On the shore of Culver Lake—
Gwen was still staring wide-eyed, holding her breath, watching the placid water without moving an inch.
Then—
Boom!
The surface burst open.
Gwen's pupils tightened.
The next instant—
Seeing Hawk break the surface and appear before her, she finally exhaled, tension melting into a radiant smile.
She ran toward him as he strode ashore, carrying Bruce Banner in his arms.
"Hawk!"
Thud!
Hawk's shirt had long since been torn to rags in the fight, and his slacks were ripped to shreds. He tossed Bruce aside onto the grass, then smiled as Gwen, tears turning to laughter, sprinted to him.
A heartbeat later—
He swayed and fell to the side.
"Holy—!"
"Hawk!"
Gwen froze, then rushed forward, catching him as he sagged. Her voice trembled. "What's wrong?"
Hawk rested his head against her shoulder.
"I'm fine."
"Liar."
Gwen looked at his pale face, on the verge of tears.
He shook his head.
"Really—just spent."
"…Really?"
"Yeah."
He nodded.
The battle against Hulk—once he'd ignited the Microcosmos—had drained him to the dregs.
Underwater he'd been okay, still locked in combat. But the moment he hit the shore, the weakness flooded him from head to toe.
However—
After absorbing the Gamma energy, the Phoenix constellation within his Microcosmos began to glow again, and his potent self-healing went to work, scouring away the fatigue.
He wouldn't bounce back to peak in the blink of an eye—
But…
In moments the color returned to his cheeks.
Seeing that blood rise back into his face, Gwen finally believed him and let out a long breath. Then, as if remembering something, she shifted her gaze to Bruce Banner lying on the ground.
Perhaps because of his transformations, Bruce had prepared a shared pair of oversized shorts for himself—avoiding the embarrassment of returning from Hulk form with nothing on.
Gwen looked at the dripping, half-naked Bruce, then glanced at Hawk resting on her shoulder.
"He's not dead?"
"No."
"And Hulk…?"
"Hulk is dead."
Hawk's answer was firm. His eyes fell on Bruce. "But he isn't."
Hulk was Hulk. Bruce Banner was Bruce Banner.
When the corpse of Hulk faded and Bruce appeared on the lakebed, Hawk himself had been briefly surprised.
Hulk died; Bruce didn't. The moment Bruce's eyes fluttered open underwater, he gulped several lungfuls of water and promptly blacked out again.
Hawk had hesitated for a breath—leave Bruce at the bottom, or not?
But—
He chuckled softly, breathing in the scent of Gwen's hair, and spoke in a faint, tired voice. "The one who killed my sister was Hulk, not Bruce Banner."
Just as he'd insisted from the start.
If Bruce had killed his sister, he wouldn't have bothered talking—he'd have smashed him into eight pieces with one punch.
The guilty have names and faces.
Hulk was dead.
His score with Bruce Banner was settled.
That was why he'd brought Bruce up from the lakebed.
"What about him…?"
"He choked out. Give it a bit; he'll wake up."
"…Alright."
"Let's go home."
Hawk tilted his head, gauged the light, and said, "If we leave now, we can still make your curfew."
Gwen arched a brow, then shook her head.
"I don't think so."
"What's wrong?"
"Our car got smashed."
"…."
Supported by Gwen, Hawk saw the yellow Corolla—parked a good distance away—crumpled beyond saving. Not far from it lay Natasha Romanoff on the grass, sleeping like a baby.
Catching his look, Gwen spread her hands, apologetic.
"I didn't want to knock her out. She pulled out her phone—I thought she was calling it in. So I bonked her."
"Uh…"
Hawk looked at her earnest, guilty face. He thought about telling her who Natasha was, then let it go and said instead, "Got your phone?"
Gwen fished it from her pocket.
"Yeah."
"Dial 1-646…"
Still bracing him with one arm, she tapped in the number with the other and placed the call.
It connected quickly.
Anna's voice came through on the other end.
"This is An—"
"Have your people bring a car."
"…."
Anna was silent a moment; then, having caught on, she said simply, "One moment, Hawk."
Three minutes later—
A black Chevrolet SUV rolled up from a small side road and stopped in front of them.
A man in a black suit stepped out.
"Mr. Hawk, shall we—"
"Keys."
Hawk cut him off.
The man paused, then produced the key fob and handed it over.
Hawk took it and passed it straight to Gwen, then, leaning on her, shuffled toward the SUV.
With Gwen's help he opened the passenger door. Just before getting in, he glanced back at the suited man, who stood ramrod straight, hands folded before him. "By the way."
The man looked up.
"Sir?"
"Natasha and Bruce can die—but not today."
"…Understood, sir."
A beat of stillness—then the answer came, deep and steady.
Hawk said nothing more and eased into the passenger seat, reclining against it.
Gwen shut the door, walked around to the driver's side, paused by the suited man, and said, "Thanks for the car."
"You're welcome. It's our duty," he answered quickly.
She blinked at his nervous expression, then smiled, thanked him again, and got in.
"Hawk, you could be nicer, you know. They just brought us a car."
"Alright."
Hawk turned his head and managed a grin. "Want to help me back out so I can kneel and thank him properly?"
She shot him a glare, ignored the joke, fired up the engine, spun the SUV in place, and headed toward New York.
"Oh, right—my car's still there. When they wake up, they won't be able to track us, will they?"
"My score with Hulk is settled. But if they come looking for trouble, I don't mind settling a new one."
"That woman in the combat suit—she seemed like that…"
"Gwen?"
"Mm?"
"Let me rest a bit. I'm exhausted."
"…Okay."
Hands folded, the suited man watched his Chevrolet disappear down the road. Then he drew out his phone, made a call, and reported Hawk and Gwen's departure—and Gwen's parting words.
Silence answered him on the other end.
After a while—
"Come back. Our relationship is good right now. Keep it that way."
"Understood, sir. And the car here…?"
"Leave it. If he didn't mention it, he either doesn't care, or he has plans. Don't meddle."
"Received."
…
(End of Chapter)
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