Above, alarms began to blare.
The prelude to the Battle of New York had begun.
And miles away, James Gibson was sitting in Tony Stark's glass-walled home, sketching plans for a research compound that would one day house both Iron Man and the Hulk.
Three geniuses, three paths—all about to collide with the same storm.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In Tony Stark's seaside villa, deep in the underground studio, three men argued animatedly around a glowing holographic projection. The light from the display flickered across glass and metal, painting the room in shades of blue.
James shook his head. "No. We need nuclear-proof fortifications underground. The main comprehensive body of the entire lab should stay way below the surface. The top level can be for the living quarters, the training area, and civilian accessible guest lounge."
Tony scoffed, gesturing upward with his drink. "Underground? Is not my style. I like heights, views, and the first ray of sunshine. What's there to be afraid of? We'll build air defense systems, shield domes, the works—and focus on the Iron Army first."
Banner blinked at them, exasperated. "You two sound like you're preparing for war."
Tony waved a hand. "We're not off topic. Security is part of the science. Three super geniuses' researching in one place? That's a recipe for envy—and sabotage."
James leaned forward, voice firm. "Which is why we take precautions. Tony, think about it—your weapons history, the Senate hearing, Ross's gamma program. The government and the military doesn't learn. When something scares them or knows they don't have control over it, they'd rather bomb it. I'd rather not give them an easy target."
Banner gave a quiet nod. "He's right. We've all seen what happens when they panic."
Tony sighed, swirling the glass. "Fine. Assume we're irresistible. What's your layout?"
James smiled faintly. "Exactly what I said—two layers. You know your engineering, Bruce knows nuclear science, and I cover the overall systems. That combination's enough to make half the world nervous. We'll make sure no one knows where to start if they ever come looking."
After a long pause, both Tony and Banner nodded. The planning resumed.
"We should also adopt a dual-system model," James began. "Dual energy, dual ventilation, dual isolation—the works."
Banner tilted his head. "Energy, I get. What about the rest?"
"J.A.R.V.I.S., project my design outline."
("Understood, Mr. Gibson.")
A faint grid formed in the air. James pointed as he spoke. "At the foundation, we have two energy cores running alternately. Tony's pure-energy prototype fits perfectly—install one as active, and one as backup. If one fails, the other kicks in automatically. For ventilation—also two systems. If a lab goes critical, we seal that section, vent the explosion through System A, then switch to System B for breathable air."
Tony nodded, impressed despite himself. "What about the computing side?"
"My Umbra Sentinel and your Iron Army each get their own network. Two supercomputers—J.A.R.V.I.S. on yours, Athena on mine."
Tony raised a brow. "Athena? That S.H.I.E.L.D. AI you built?"
"The same one. What they use is a simplified branch version. The full version stays with me. Two cores, two control zones. If one system's compromised, the other can isolate and defend."
Tony gave a low whistle. "That's… over the top. But I like the idea of it."
He leaned over the projection. "We got security and power redundancy. So what about upstairs? You already got a plan for it?"
James gestured higher in the model. "That's Bruce's domain. Heavy equipment, particle chambers, kinetic reactors—all reinforced with a vibranium mesh. And one more thing…"
Banner frowned. "What thing?"
"A containment room strong enough to hold the Hulk," James said simply. "You'll need it to train control."
Banner gave a strained laugh. "Control the Hulk? That's impossible. The best I can do is steady my breathing and hope for the best."
James shook his head. "That's the problem—you treat him like someone else. He's you. You're not two beings; you're one. Same brain, same heart, same DNA. You call him the Hulk as if he's a stranger. But he's just you—amplified of your true self."
Banner looked skeptical. "You're saying we're the same?"
"Yes. You share everything. Whatever your father's mutation passed down didn't create another entity; it magnified what was already inside you. You're the rational side, he's the instinct. The goal isn't suppression—it's communication. Control comes from acknowledgment, not denial."
Banner's silence stretched long, broken only by the hum of the hologram.
"Try the tea method again, you can try the Japanese tea ceremony, it teaches patience, presence, harmony, and respect through deliberate motion and mindful stillness." James added. "It helps. Better than meditation or yoga. It's the act of centering yourself."
Before Banner could respond, a phone rang sharply through the lab. The sudden sound cut the room's calm in half.
James picked it up, an uneasy feeling already stirring. "Hello?"
Coulson's voice could be heard over the comm "James, we got an emergency. We need you aboard the Helicarrier asap."
Coulson's tone was brisk—almost panicked. "And bring Dr. Banner. We'll need his help. Stark's invited too. Will be sending a Quinjet now."
The line went dead before James could get a word in.
He stared at the phone, frowning. "Of course," he muttered. Then he dialed back, and as expected, Coulson answered immediately—perhaps anticipating his persistence.
"Got any questions?" Coulson asked, a little strained.
James's voice was calm but edged. "Phil, you know I need details. How am I supposed to convince two geniuses to drop everything and board your bird with zero context?"