The Hulk stood in the open like a fury unchained, his roar splitting the air like a war horn from some ancient god of wrath. Each pulse of muscle, each stomp of his titanic feet sent tremors through the ground. He wasn't just a creature—he was violence incarnate.
From his concealed vantage in the shadows of a clocktower's upper rafters, Daniel narrowed his eyes.
His gaze flicked first to Betty Ross, who stood frozen beneath a streetlight's flickering glow, her eyes wide with disbelief and pain. The last flicker of hope in her had just been snuffed out—like the flame of a candle under storm winds.
And Daniel … found himself quietly impressed.
"General Ross," he murmured under his breath, "You're a master manipulator."
Ross had executed the plan with brutal elegance: force the Hulk to reveal his most terrifying self—in front of the one person who believed he could still be saved.
Daniel had seen enough of the world to recognize the tactic. Expose the monster, sever the bond of sympathy.
And yet…
He didn't buy it.
Betty Ross might be shaken now, but emotion was the double-edged sword of human nature. Women like her—empathetic, brilliant, driven by feeling—often clung tighter the more you tried to tear them away. If the Hulk showed even a flicker of Bruce's soul… she would fall back into his corner. Harder. Deeper.
Daniel sipped from a flask hidden beneath his collar, eyes not leaving the battlefield. What came next mattered far more.
This was not just a battle.
It was a lesson.
On one side: the uncontrollable chaos of a living weapon, whose power only grew with rage. On the other: the United States military—backed by decades of planning, billions in funding, and tech borrowed from men like Tony Stark.
Daniel needed to know how they fought. How far they'd go. Because someday… they might come for him.
The standoff shattered.
The Hulk charged with an inhuman roar, teeth bared and muscles coiled like industrial cables. The American frontline didn't wait for orders. Terror triggered instincts before discipline could catch up.
"OPEN FIRE!"
Gunfire exploded in synchronized chaos. Dozens of rifles unleashed torrents of bullets, turning the air into a hive of screaming metal. But none of it stopped the monster—if anything, it fueled him. The small-arms fire bounced off his green flesh like rain on iron.
General Ross stood behind his command vehicle, watching coldly.
"Alpha Squad. Engage."
From a flanking position on the southern ridge, Alpha Squad emerged like specters from the trees, their weapons gleaming. These weren't standard-issue rifles—they were prototype assault systems with high-velocity penetrators, tuned specifically to hurt the Hulk. Not kill him—Ross wasn't here to end the beast. He was here to capture him.
Alpha Squad opened fire.
Their weapons hit with more bite. The Hulk roared louder, staggering under the impact—but not breaking. Instead, he changed course, reeling northeast to escape the pain.
Just as Ross intended.
Except…
He was off-angle.
"He's deviating. Not heading straight into the trap," the comms operator muttered.
Ross's jaw clenched. "Where's the 50mm cannon?"
An armored vehicle revved to life behind the formation. Its turret—a sleek 50mm rotary gun—spun up with a whine like a jet engine.
"Engage. Drive him north!"
The vehicle surged forward, hammering Hulk with concussive bursts. The rounds hit like thunderbolts—slamming into the green titan's torso and shoulders, staggering him, pushing him eastward, then north.
The beast turned with a snarl.
And slammed both fists into the earth.
With a seismic crack, he hurled himself sideways—into the armored vehicle.
Steel screamed. The vehicle flipped end-over-end like a child's toy and crashed in a heap.
It didn't explode.
Somehow, it landed upright—its frame twisted, but intact.
Daniel's lips twitched. "Resilient design."
But Hulk wasn't done. He turned west—toward the Hudson.
Toward escape.
From a thicket near the west edge of campus, another squad appeared. They opened fire. The bullets barely slowed him.
He barreled forward, scattering them like leaves in a storm.
But then—
Pain.
A burning, piercing pain in his back.
He spun around. The overturned armored vehicle was moving again—chasing him, laying into him with renewed fire. The rounds didn't pierce skin, but they hurt.
This time, the Hulk didn't flee.
He leapt—more than five meters—and landed beside the vehicle. With both hands, he ripped it from the ground.
Then hurled it.
It crashed into a squad of soldiers like a meteor. Some fled.
Others… did not get up.
Betty Ross covered her mouth, her scream muffled by shock. Blood soaked the earth.
This—this was not Bruce anymore.
And it was far too late to stop the escalation.
Hulk, panting, enraged, saw more targets—soldiers scrambling near a transport line.
He charged again.
One vehicle, then two, were bulldozed aside. Metal bent. Tires exploded. The pavement cracked.
Some of the younger soldiers began to panic.
They weren't trained for this.
General Ross saw it in their eyes.
"Blonsky. Your turn."
A calm voice answered from the jungle. "Copy that, General."
Emil Blonsky stepped forward.
He wasn't the biggest man. Not even the strongest. But what he was… was the most dangerous soldier Ross had.
Where other men flinched, Blonsky smiled.
He grabbed two grenades from a nearby rack—custom-modified—and hurled them with military precision.
They struck Hulk's back.
Boom! Boom!
Pain—real pain—exploded across Hulk's skin. Cuts opened. Green blood oozed.
The beast roared, grabbing a shredded car door as a shield.
Blonsky didn't stop.
He sprinted forward like a jackal—fast, fluid, far too nimble. Bullets from his team created covering fire. He leapt, rebounded off Hulk's knee, and slammed his heel into the monster's chin.
Then—another strike. A stomp to the throat.
The Hulk staggered—actually fell back, slamming into the ground.
Daniel leaned forward, intrigued. "Hmm… Now that's impressive."
Blonsky didn't pause. He emptied his sidearm into Hulk's head, aiming for eyes, ears, anywhere vulnerable.
The bullets stung. Hulk flinched, squinting, snarling.
But he wasn't going down.
Daniel analyzed the soldier's movements. "About the same as Rogers, fresh out of the chamber," he mused. "But no shield. No potential. Limited window."
Still, the serum had worked. Blonsky was a success. And if the U.S. had more…
That would be a problem.
The skirmish intensified.
Hulk swung car doors like war hammers. Blonsky ducked, twisted, rolled, taunting him, pulling him north.
Finally, Ross gave the call.
"Lead him to the sonic cannons."
Blonsky didn't hesitate.
He turned and ran, leaping over debris and darting into the jungle. Hulk roared and gave chase, thundering after him.
"Prepare for firing sequence," Ross ordered.
Two trucks emerged from the trees. Soldiers scrambled into place, booting up systems and rotating the sonic emitters forward.
Daniel's eyes gleamed.
"This… is what I've been waiting for."
He stood.
The real test was about to begin.
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