BOOM—BOOM—BOOM!
Meteor after meteor slammed into the ground, each impact fiercer than the last. Explosions roared through Chinatown, shaking the earth itself. The streets were left cratered and broken, dozens of pits gouged into the ground, each over three meters wide.
The Hulk's massive body had long since vanished beneath the blinding firestorms and raging shockwaves. The ground trembled, the air screamed, and the searing heat made the world feel like it was boiling over.
When the smoke and dust finally settled, the scene was one of utter ruin.
In the center of a massive crater lay a thin, naked man—his skin pale, his body weak, his eyes closed. Bruce Banner.
He was unconscious, the Hulk gone.
Lucas strode toward him, with Tony arriving just a heartbeat later. Around them, both S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and military soldiers were closing in fast. Their intentions were obvious—they all wanted Bruce Banner… or rather, the Hulk.
"He can't fall into any of their hands," Lucas said coldly. "Not S.H.I.E.L.D.'s."
"Agreed," Tony replied. "And especially not the military. Those warmongers only see weapons, not people."
The two men exchanged a knowing glance.
"Wake him up first," Lucas said.
Tony nodded, popped open a small compartment on his gauntlet, and pulled out a compact electric stimulator. Without hesitation, he pressed it to Bruce's chest.
Zzzzap!
A flash of electricity jolted through Bruce's body. He spasmed violently and gasped awake with a pained yell.
"Ahhh—!"
Every nerve felt like it was on fire.
"Dr. Banner," Tony said dryly, "now's not the time to enjoy the sensation. Take a look around, Superstar."
Bruce blinked, dazed, then slowly looked around at the wreckage.
"Where's… Abomination?" he asked.
What he saw was ruin—collapsed buildings, burning wrecks, streets torn apart. But no sign of his monstrous counterpart.
Tony pointed toward a smoking pile of rubble. "That yellow-skinned freak's probably buried over there somewhere. Maybe just pieces of him."
Bruce let out a long breath, relief washing over his face. "Good. Good… as long as he's gone."
"Bad news, Doc," Tony said, glancing toward the approaching soldiers. "You see that crowd? They're all here for you."
Bruce followed his gaze—and froze. A wall of soldiers and black-suited agents was marching straight toward them, led by none other than General Ross. His expression was a storm of fury and greed.
"I… I have to go," Bruce stammered. "If they capture me, it's over. They'll never stop. They'll just make more monsters. I have to disappear—now."
Lucas nodded once. "Then go, Doctor. Don't look back."
Bruce didn't need to be told twice. He turned and bolted down the ruined street, vanishing into the smoke and debris.
"Stop him! Don't let him get away! After him!"
Ross's voice boomed like a cannon as he pointed furiously. Soldiers rushed forward—
—but their path was suddenly blocked as a gleaming blade struck the ground before them with a metallic clang.
"Take one more step," Lucas said evenly, "and you die."
His tone was calm. Deadly calm.
"You dare interfere with a military operation?!" Ross barked, his face flushing red. "That man is U.S. property! You're obstructing government business! You're committing treason against the United States of America!"
The words rolled off Lucas like rain on steel. Ross could throw his "authority" around all he wanted—it meant nothing here.
Before Lucas could respond, Tony stepped up beside him. Moments later, Gwen and Peter swung down from above, and Skye came running up to join them. Together, they stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Lucas.
"General Ross," Tony said with a half-smile, "we're old acquaintances, so let's skip the speeches. Everything that happened here has been recorded. I'll be sending it straight to the Pentagon. Every inch of damage to Chinatown—every casualty—lands squarely on you. You might want to start drafting your resignation letter."
Ross's jaw locked. Tony's words hit hard because they were true. The Pentagon would crucify him for this disaster—and S.H.I.E.L.D.'s presence only made it worse.
The agents behind him were also itching to move, but Coulson raised a hand to stop them. He already understood—Tony and Lucas had let Banner go on purpose. And trying to stop them now would only make things worse.
Ross, however, wasn't ready to give up. His ambition burned hotter than his common sense. Lucas's power fascinated him—if he couldn't get Banner, then maybe this man would do.
"Lucas," he said, straightening his uniform, "I'm placing you under arrest for obstructing a military operation."
He snapped his fingers. "Men—take him!"
Several soldiers raised their rifles, stepping forward cautiously.
"I dare you," Gwen hissed, stepping in front of Lucas like a lioness guarding her cub.
Skye joined her, both hands raised. Vibrations rippled through the air, the ground trembling under her feet. The faint hum built like an engine charging up—a warning of the earthquake she was about to unleash.
Ross, unfazed, gave a mocking chuckle. "You two really think you can stand against trained soldiers? Think carefully, boy. You wouldn't want to endanger your family, would you?"
That word—family—snapped something in Lucas.
The air around him dropped a few degrees as emerald energy surged outward. Wind whipped into a vortex, howling through the ruins. His eyes glowed an unearthly green.
Gwen's teeth clenched so hard they nearly cracked. Ross's words had hit her too—he was talking about her family, the Stacys. The fury in her chest burned hotter than fear.
Skye's expression hardened as she extended her arms toward the soldiers. The tremor in the air intensified, her power flaring despite the pain. She didn't care if it shattered her arms again—she wanted Ross gone.
"Ross," Lucas said, his voice low but cutting through the wind like thunder. "You die here. Not even Jesus can save you."
The green storm thickened around him, blades of wind slicing through the debris. The sky itself seemed to darken in response to his rage.
Across the field, Natasha watched quietly. She didn't move to stop him. She had already warned Ross once. If he still chose to court death, then death was exactly what he'd get.
Coulson tensed, instinctively stepping forward—but Natasha caught his arm.
"Don't," she said softly. "The Director already knows. Ross brought this on himself."
Coulson hesitated, then nodded grimly and backed away.
Tony, meanwhile, was smirking inside his helmet. He had zero sympathy for Ross. If the man got himself killed, that was his own fault—and Tony had enough influence in the military to make sure Lucas wouldn't face consequences for it.
So instead of stopping him, Tony simply folded his arms and muttered,
"Well, this should be entertaining."
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