"Alright. Looks like The Author and The One Above All really struck a deal." A blond man, standing six foot six inches tall, said with a smile on his face.
"Ah! An alternate universe, just for me. No TVA, no Beyonder, nada. But the others are present, so it's still a dangerous world. And they had told me that this universe is a combination of many different Marvel Universe." His red eyes gleamed.
"Lucky for me, The Author gave me one wish and The One Above All gifted me the latest dimension to rule over, which can be entered from anywhere in the universe. Perk of being a dimensional ruler. I don't need an Avatar to walk on Earth as I'm a human Dimensional Lord. Only after my death would I need an Avatar to walk on Earth." He whistled.
Right then, he heared a loud bang. His head snapped into that direction he mummered "They didn't tell me in which time I would be arriving. So time to find out."
With the decision made, he went out of the apartment he was staying and when he reached the street, he saw a ugly grey giant causing destruction all around it.
Seeing it he nodded his head and thought 'The Abomination. So before Tony became the Iron Man.'
The destruction continued and he thought 'Should I interfere or not?'
An elderly man narrowly dodged the flying debris, but he still got hurt by falling on the ground. 'Guess I will.'
With the decision made, he made it back to his apartment and locked it, so that no one would enter it once he was gone. With a thought, he entered the dimension he rules and said under his breath "Reinforcement."
As he said that, a golden glow covered him and a golden armor covering his body, black horns on his head, and glowing, flame-like hair manifested. Standing almost ten feet tall, he grew three more feet in his armored state.
(AN:: This is how he looks like after reinforcement.)
"Just as I wanted." His distorted voice was heard in the dimension.
With another thought he exited his dimension and appeared in the street where the Abomination was wrecking havoc. A step, the asphalt under his feet cracked, which alerted Abomination as he snapped his attention to him.
Squinting, the Abomination growled, his deep voice reverberating through the shattered city street. "You're not Hulk."
"Duh," the golden figure replied, his voice distorted, low, and calm like a distant storm. "Hulk is green. I'm gold."
With a roar that cracked nearby windows, Abomination charged.
Golden flames of hair whipped behind him as he launched forward—effortless, graceful, unbothered. They met like meteors, fists colliding in a thunderclap that shook the earth. The shockwave flattened cars and sent debris flying. Abomination stumbled back a step.
He didn't.
The golden warrior tilted his head, almost curious, then vanished in a golden blur and reappeared mid-air—crashing down on Abomination, tackling him to the concrete. A rapid flurry followed—each punch a hammer of force, precise, controlled, relentless. The ground cratered beneath them.
Abomination howled, twisted, and bucked his hips—managing to land a savage kick that hurled the golden warrior several meters back.
He landed on one knee, grunting slightly—not from pain, but annoyance.
Rising slowly, he extended one hand, fingers splayed. "Capture."
The air shimmered. Abomination froze mid-rise—something unseen wrapping him like iron chains. With a flick of his wrist, the golden warrior pulled the creature toward him as if reeling in a puppet.
Then the real punishment began.
The punches came harder now—each one ringing like a cannon. With every strike, the golden aura flared brighter. Abomination's thick skin split, blood flying with each blow. The street cracked beneath the force. And yet—he never let it get out of control. No buildings fell. No innocents were harmed. It was all precision.
Finally, dazed and battered, the Abomination shifted—shrinking, melting back into the bruised, broken form of a man.
The golden warrior stood over him, breathing steady, not a scratch on him. He looked down, not with hatred, but with understanding—and pity.
"Go to sleep," he said, voice soft.
The man slumped, unconscious before he hit the ground a low powered punch from him knocked out the man and right then, he heard something heavy struck the asphalt, enough to create a crater.
Not minding the newcomer, he took a steel pole from the side walk and wrapped it around the man, securing him firmly. With a light toss, he sent the man to the front of a Humvee with four soldiers inside it.
Then he ignored them and looked back to the place where the crater was present. From the crater a green hand was thrusted upwards and from it, a green giant came out looking at him and the man who was the Abomination.
The same speed he showcased when he lunged at Abomination, he placed his hand on the Hulk's shoulder and teleported into his dimension. Making the soldiers go wide eyed at the disappearance act.
A few minutes later, a helicopter landed near the sight where he had fought abomination and an older man wearing military uniform stepped out with a scowl on his face, along with a young woman who had a small smile on her face.
Looking at his subordinate, who turned into the Abomination, the older man barked out "Report!"
"General Ross! They just disappeared from the spot, sir." A soldier, the one who had drove the Humvee said.
Growling, General Ross barked out again "I saw that. I want information on that giant. And I want it yesterday."
"Yes sir!" The soldier saluted and went away to write down the report of what he had witnessed.
The young woman snickered besides General Ross. He looked at her and with a low growl, he said "Betty, I promise you that I'll find your little boyfriend again. And when I do, I'm going to make sure that he won't be able to escape from me. And nobody will be ever able to rescue him. Not even that giant."
"Are you hearing what you saying yourself or is your head so far up in your ass that you lost your hearing?" Betty said with a smirk and without waiting for a response, she walked away from the scene.
General Ross stood there frozen, after hearing crass words from his own daughter. The soldiers who were near him paused for a moment and returned to their duties while thinking to themselves 'That's what we wanted to tell this asshole!!'
------------------------------------------------
The Moon – The Blue Area – Uatu the Watcher
The stars did not blink. The moon did not tremble. But something had changed.
From his towering observatory in the Blue Area, Uatu stood still—gargantuan and silent, eyes locked not on galaxies or rifts in space-time, but on a small golden figure standing in the ruins of a city far below.
Earth.
Again, Earth.
He watched as the newcomer—unnamed, unrecorded, untouched by any known origin—delivered a precise, merciful dismantling of the Abomination. Not with rage, not with cruelty, but something that resembled... restraint. Clarity. Purpose.
He held back, Uatu thought. He could have ended him with a breath. But he didn't.
He glanced toward the console beside him, which flickered with readings. No mutant markers. No Inhuman gene. No Celestial echoes. No ties to Eternals, Deviants, or even the multiverse.
Nothing.
This man—if he was a man—should not exist.
And yet... he did.
Uatu's enormous hands hovered over the projection sphere, the light dancing with glimpses of futures not yet written. Most were vague. Some—impossible. But one thread shimmered brighter than the rest.
A lone figure, golden and glowing, standing between the Earth and the infinite. Shielding it not from destruction, but from those who claimed to protect it—gods, kings, tyrants, and monsters alike.
Uatu's lips tightened, his oath echoing like iron in his mind.
"To watch, never interfere."
And yet his gaze lingered longer than it should have. His breath drew slow. His fingers clenched.
"He is not a mutant," he whispered to no one.
"Not an Inhuman."
"Not an Eternal."
He turned from the screen and looked toward the planet—the blue orb floating in blackness.
"But he is... Earth's."
Then, almost inaudibly, with something like reverence in his voice, Uatu said the name the world had not yet given him:
"The Goliath."
And for the first time in eons, the Watcher felt something he was not meant to feel.
Hope.
------------------------------------------------
Beyond Realms – The Space Between Laws – The Living Tribunal Speaks
In the infinite void beyond time, where balance itself has weight, the Living Tribunal stirred.
Three faces—Equity, Vengeance, and Necessity—burned like suns across the endless dark. All spoke in unity, and yet in conflict, as it beheld the thread of a life that should not exist.
"He does not belong to this dimension."
"He disrupts balance... yet brings order."
"He protects, yet defies the systems we have built."
Across the multiverse, the Tribunal's gaze swept—searching for signatures, traces, anomalies. The Goliath carried no legacy of power granted by Celestials, no whisper of Chaos or Order, no imprint of Eternity or Death.
He bore no cosmic title.
And yet he had tipped the scales.
Planets had trembled. Abstracts had turned their heads. Even the Far Shore rippled with curiosity. The Tribunal had come to pass judgment.
But then—It stopped.
Because something older, deeper, higher... whispered.
A voice that the Tribunal heard not through sound, but through absolute clarity.
The One-Above-All had made this choice.
He was not a flaw in the pattern.
He was the hand in the loom.
Silence fell.
The Tribunal's three faces aligned for the briefest moment—an occurrence as rare as the death of a universe.
"It is not for us to question."
"His existence is not permission."
"But it is... sanctioned."
The Living Tribunal bowed its heads—not in submission, but in solemn recognition.
"A protector has been made."
"A variable written in ink from beyond the scroll."
"The Goliath is not a threat to balance."
A pause. And then the Tribunal—who has judged gods, banished devourers, and silenced worlds—spoke again, a single edict echoing across creation:
"Observe him well."
And with that, the Tribunal receded into the void between realms.
Waiting.
Watching.
For whatever came next.
------------------------------------------------
Asgard – The Throne Room of the All-Father
A low hum echoed through the golden halls of Valaskjalf, the chamber of forethought. Atop the throne, Odin All-Father stirred. Not with alarm—but with curiosity, the kind that came rarely in his long, battle-worn life.
He had felt it—a ripple across the branches of Yggdrasil.
Not an explosion, not a threat… but a pulse, like a heart beating where there had never been one before.
A new force had touched Midgard.
Not forged by gods. Not summoned by spell. Not born of prophecy.
Something… new.
Odin rose from the throne, his massive frame clad in royal armor, spear Gungnir resting by his side. His single eye glowed faintly as he peered into the distant mists of the cosmos, across the Realms, and down into the world of mortals.
There he saw him.
Golden flames danced from the man's hair as he fought—not with recklessness, but with precise, deliberate might. A battle, yes—but with restraint. Mercy. Judgment. As if he knew the weight of every blow.
Odin watched as the creature Abomination—one of Earth's beasts—was rendered harmless not by rage, but by will.
When the golden warrior whispered, "Go to sleep," Odin felt something ancient stir in his chest.
A silence followed. Then a low rumble of a chuckle from the All-Father.
"He walks as a mortal," Odin muttered, "but bears himself like a king."
He summoned Heimdall with a single thunderous word. The guardian arrived, armor gleaming, sword in hand.
"Heimdall," Odin said, "tell me—do you see the Realm he hails from?"
Heimdall bowed. "No, my king. No gate has opened. No bridge has stirred. He does not come from any of the Nine Realms."
"Then his is the Tenth," Odin said, almost in awe. "Unclaimed. Uncharted."
He turned his gaze again toward Midgard.
"A ruler born with no throne, no crown, no bloodline. And yet... the World Tree knows his weight."
He gripped Gungnir and raised it lightly, the faintest shimmer of the Bifrost reacting to his will.
"When the time is right," Odin said, "we will meet—this Goliath. And I shall know whether he is judge, protector... or something far greater."
Then Odin turned and sat once more upon the throne of Asgard—not with burden, but with anticipation.
------------------------------------------------
The Dark Dimension – Throne of Shattered Light
The void twisted. Reality bent inward. Time whimpered beneath his will.
Dormammu stirred.
He sat—if such a thing could be said of him—on a throne forged from dying stars and broken prayers. Rivers of liquid fire licked through the cracks of the broken dimension, and the cries of lost sorcerers echoed in the distance like fading thunder.
But for once, Dormammu did not listen.
He watched.
A thread of reality—a flickering golden ripple—had broken through the dimensional veil. A ripple... from Earth.
That loathsome sphere again.
Dormammu's eyes, burning suns of chaos, narrowed. He raised a hand, and the dimension parted like torn cloth. Within the rip, he saw the figure: golden-haired, cloaked in light, walking unbothered amidst destruction. No magic. No artifact. No pact.
Just power.
Power that had struck down the Abomination like a bored god swatting an insect.
But that wasn't what disturbed Dormammu.
It was the balance.
He felt it the moment the creature spoke—"Capture."
A command.
And something listened.
Dormammu leaned forward, molten rage dripping from his form like gravity itself had turned to fire.
"This is no sorcerer," he hissed.
"No mutant. No machine. No celestial's pet."
He clenched his fist. The fire within the Dark Dimension flared in violent protest. Even his own domain recoiled.
He growled.
"He does not belong."
And yet—he could not see the source. Could not trace the soul. Could not pierce the veil that hid the golden one's origin. Not magic. Not technology. Not even time itself whispered his name.
Dormammu stood, the Dark Dimension quaking beneath him.
"A new force walks Midgard," he snarled, his voice shaking the broken walls of space. "One not born of pact or prophecy."
"And I—will learn his name."
With a gesture, he summoned his legions. Shadows twisted into shape, and forgotten horrors stirred in the depths of his realm.
"Find him. Bring me a piece of him. Flesh. Bone. Power. I will tear open his soul and feed it to the Void."
The darkness roared back in answer, and the stars of the Dark Dimension fled behind the horizon.
But even as Dormammu's rage surged—
A whisper—not his own—slithered through the folds of reality.
He is not yours to devour, Dark One.
And for the first time in countless eons—
Dormammu paused.
------------------------------------------------
The Hell Dimension – Mephisto's Throne of Lies
The flames curled around him like obedient pets, licking the obsidian stone at his feet. Screams echoed faintly in the distance—pleas, bargains, whimpers—all the usual noise of Hell. Mephisto barely heard them.
His clawed fingers danced lazily through the fire, shaping faces, futures, failures.
And then—he froze.
A pulse. Not from the soul stream. Not from a damned spirit or a cursed relic.
Something new had stepped into the world of men.
Mephisto leaned forward on his bone-throne, red eyes narrowing. A dark ripple passed over the lake of souls before him, and in its surface—he saw it.
Golden flame. A street cracked. A beast humbled. A name whispered by Watchers and men alike: The Goliath.
He hissed.
"Not mutant… not Inhuman… not Eternal…" Mephisto muttered, mimicking the whispers now stirring across realms.
His lip curled. "And certainly not mine."
He stood, cape flaring with infernal heat.
"This one doesn't bleed magic. No sorcery. No soul sold. No mark of pact or divine chain."He turned to a lesser demon trembling behind him. "He didn't come through me. He didn't pass the gate. He wasn't made in fire."
The demon bowed lower. "Then… my lord… what is he?"
Mephisto's smile returned, slow and thin, more irritation than amusement. He raised one hand, and a soul was extinguished in the distance just to make himself feel better.
"I don't know," he admitted bitterly. "And I don't like not knowing."
The flames around his chamber flared taller, his fury burning the very laws that kept the damned in chains.
"Find his origin," Mephisto ordered. "If he has no roots in Hell, then we make one. Send tempters. Send visions. Offer power. Offer paradise."
"And if he refuses?" the demon asked.
Mephisto's smile twisted.
"Then we learn what it takes to break something golden."
He turned back to the lake of souls, staring deep into its shimmer.
"He walks among them like a man. But if he rises further… he'll draw their eyes. The Tribunal. The One Above All."
He paused.
"And worse, he might inspire hope."
His voice dropped to a whisper.
"And there is nothing I hate more… than hope."
------------------------------------------------
The Abyss Beyond Light – Knull's Throne of Shadows
There was no sound in the void.
There was never sound.
The stars were dead here, smothered in nothing. Even time had long since gone still—coiled at Knull's feet like a forgotten corpse. In this place, the god of the abyss sat unmoved, his eternal grin sharp and cold as the blade he forged for gods long slain.
And then—he stirred.
A flicker.
A spark.
Unwelcome.
Knull's black eyes opened slowly, twin abysses in a face that had never known warmth. He reached a clawed hand through the void, fingers trailing through realms until he brushed something unfamiliar.
A ripple in creation.
Not divine. Not born of void. Not part of any lineage he could corrupt.
Something golden.
Something loud.
Something alive.
Knull recoiled slightly—then hissed, a sound older than death. He rose from his throne of writhing symbiotes, shadows spilling from his back like a cape of screams.
"This… Goliath."
The name tasted wrong in his mouth. Like fire. Like the first lie.
He had watched countless lights be born, and he had extinguished just as many. But this one…
This one refused to flicker.
Knull extended his senses deeper, reaching toward Earth through the black web that laced the stars—the God Hive alert now, symbiotes across the galaxy twitching in anxious recognition.
"He doesn't bleed darkness," Knull muttered.
"He's not mine."
He clenched his jaw. Shadows recoiled from his fury.
"He doesn't belong."
And then… he smiled. Wide. Terrible. A grin carved by hatred older than the gods.
"Then I will make him belong."
From the abyss came a call, low and guttural—a warping of the symbiote hive-mind. Across distant worlds, symbiotes turned their eyes toward Earth. Murmurs of gold. Of power. Of something the dark had not shaped.
"I forged gods before," Knull said.
"I will unmake this one."
His voice echoed across the void like a blade dragging across bone.
"And when the golden flame dies, I'll wear his ruin like a crown."
------------------------------------------------
Attilan – The Quiet Throne
The footage played again, projected in crystalline light above the royal chamber. The golden warrior—no known Terrigenesis signature, no genealogy on file—delivering precision blows that brought Abomination to his knees without losing control of the surrounding city.
Silence held the room. That was always true when Blackagar Boltagon, the Silent King, was present. His eyes—deep and stormy—never left the image. They burned not with fear, but with scrutiny.
Finally, Medusa spoke, her voice careful.
"He is not one of us."
The royal advisor Karnak, seated on a ledge in the shadows, tilted his head. "And yet... he breaks things like one of us."
Gorgon grunted, arms crossed. "No Terrigen signature. No known bloodline. Not mutant. Not metahuman. Not alien. Nothing."
"A ghost," Crystal added, watching the way he fought. "But not untrained. That control… he fought like he knew the cost of losing control."
A pause. Karnak narrowed his eyes, focusing on the movements—each punch, the moment he held back, the perfect balance between force and precision.
"He is not a weapon," Karnak said at last. "He's a warning."
Medusa turned to Black Bolt. "And what do you see, my king?"
Blackagar didn't move for several long seconds. Then, without a sound, he slowly stood. His gaze shifted from the projection to the stars above Attilan's energy dome—toward Earth.
He raised a single finger.
It pointed downward. Earthward.
Medusa's breath caught slightly. It was rare—very rare—for Black Bolt to suggest action.
"…You wish to find him?"
Black Bolt nodded once.
"You think he's a threat?" Gorgon asked.
Karnak answered instead, murmuring:
"If he is a threat, then he's the kind of threat that doesn't announce itself with fire. He's the kind that lets others burn first… and then steps in when the ashes fall."
Medusa's eyes flickered toward the projection again, to the golden figure standing still over the defeated monster.
"Then we must know him," she said.
"Before others do."
Black Bolt turned back toward the screen, a sliver of something ancient and heavy in his eyes. A silent thought lingered.
"He is not Inhuman... but perhaps he is something beyond."
------------------------------------------------
Kamar-Taj – The Chamber of the Sanctum
Candles floated in stillness. Incense curled through the air like memory. Time, here, did not move forward—it bowed in every direction.
Seated cross-legged in the lotus chamber, the Ancient One opened her eyes slowly. They glowed faintly green—the Time Stone active, orbiting gently around her open palm.
She had not summoned it.
It had come to her.
The vision was not a storm or a war. It was a single, golden spark—walking through crumbling streets with the weight of something ancient in his steps. Not born of magic. Not science. Not prophecy.
Something older than all of them.
She let the vision unfold. She saw his restraint. His power. His mercy. The way the earth bent around him, but never broke. The way the threads of fate—chaotic, unruly things—gathered behind him like soldiers awaiting command.
She leaned forward slightly, eyes sharpening.
"No bloodline," she murmured to herself. "No astral imprint. No celestial whisper."
She held out her hand and the timelines split like a prism—thousands of futures, some apocalyptic, some miraculous. In so many, this figure—this Goliath—stood not as a ruler, but as a barrier. A shield. Not against invasion alone, but against corruption, vanity, and those who claimed dominion over Earth in any form.
She smiled faintly.
"So... the Earth has grown tired of its kings and gods," she said, amused. "And it has birthed something else. A protector not of tradition, but of choice."
The Time Stone spun faster. The visions flickered away.
She closed her palm.
Then, standing gracefully, she folded her hands behind her back and walked toward the open courtyard where the wind carried whispers of distant realms.
"I hope I meet you," she said to the air.
"When the time is right."
A pause. Then softer, with rare humility:
"And I hope I am ready."
------------------------------------------------
Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters – Cerebro Chamber
The world was quiet inside Cerebro. Just the hum of consciousness—mutants flickering across the globe like stars across a night sky. Charles Xavier sat motionless, the cool metal of the Cerebro interface embracing his brow.
Then something shifted.
Not a mutant... not a mind exactly... but a presence—bright and burning, like the sun cutting through clouds.
Charles gasped, pulling off the Cerebro helmet. His heartbeat had quickened, and he hadn't realized it. Sweat dampened his temples.
He blinked, trying to process what he had just brushed against. It wasn't mutant... but it felt aware—like someone reaching back through the vastness of thought. Someone who didn't belong in the registry of life as he knew it.
He wheeled himself out of the chamber, his face unusually tense.
Moments later, he sat across from Hank McCoy in the library.
"I felt something," Charles said quietly. "No X-gene. No psychic field I recognize. But... presence. Immense. Like a force of nature—but sentient."
Hank looked up from his notes. "Are you saying this thing is alive?"
Charles shook his head. "Not a thing. A man. Golden. Unfamiliar. Yet... compassionate. Controlled."
He gestured to a nearby screen, which now showed security footage from a city: craters in pavement, a golden-haired figure standing tall as the Abomination lay unconscious at his feet.
"No known classification. He's not one of us. Not one of them, either," Charles murmured.
Beast leaned forward, intrigued. "Do you think he's a threat?"
"I don't know yet," Xavier said truthfully. "But the world will treat him like one. SHIELD is already on alert. Hydra won't wait long. And some of our own... might see him as a messiah. Or a weapon."
He sighed deeply, his voice low.
"I've spent my life trying to prove to humanity that mutants are not something to fear. That power doesn't equal danger."
He paused, watching the replay again—The Goliath catching a charging monster with one hand, then carefully ensuring no civilians were hurt.
"But this man... he's not asking for anyone's approval. He simply acts."
Charles folded his hands and stared into the monitor.
"I would like to meet him," he said finally. "Before the world decides who he is for him."
------------------------------------------------
Genosha – Mutant Brotherhood Stronghold
Magneto stood still, arms crossed, watching the screen in silence.
Beside him, Mystique raised an eyebrow. Then she looked at one the woman near her and the woman answered the unasked question "Well, he's not one of ours."
"No," Magneto said softly, "but he could be anybody's. That's what makes him dangerous."
Mystique glanced sideways. "You thinking of recruiting him?"
Magneto smiled faintly. "I'm thinking of surviving him."Asteroid M – Magneto's Throne Room
Space drifted silently beyond the curved windows of Asteroid M, Earth a pale blue sphere hanging in the void. Magneto stood before it—arms behind his back, helmet gleaming in the dim light of his command deck. Monitors hummed around him. Most played satellite footage from Earth. One—just one—showed the golden figure from earlier.
The Goliath.
He had watched the fight three times now. In silence. Expression unreadable.
Behind him, Exodus approached cautiously.
"He took down the Abomination in under two minutes," Exodus said. "No readings from Cerebro. No X-Gene. He's not one of ours."
Magneto didn't turn.
"I noticed."
"He's being called The Goliath by SHIELD. Fury's already locked it behind ten layers of classification. Hydra's mobilizing. Even the Watcher turned his head."
"Good," Magneto murmured. "Let them be afraid."
Exodus tilted his head. "You're… not angry he isn't a mutant?"
Magneto turned slowly, cape shifting like storm clouds. His expression was cold, but there was a rare glint of curiosity behind his eyes.
"I am disappointed," he said at last, "but not surprised."
He walked toward the screen displaying The Goliath—the golden warrior, standing unharmed amidst the rubble of a city he protected.
"They'll worship him, soon," Magneto continued. "Call him savior. Call him god. As they always do when a man is strong enough to challenge their fragile order."
"Will he become their weapon?" Exodus asked.
"That depends," Magneto said. "On who gets to him first."
He paused.
"He didn't kill Abomination. That restraint... it wasn't human. It was measured. Intentional. As if he knew the difference between justice and vengeance."
Magneto frowned, folding his arms.
"Perhaps that makes him dangerous."
Exodus looked surprised. "Because he's merciful?"
Magneto's voice dropped.
"Because he might be better than any of us."
He turned his back to the screen, the stars outside reflecting off his helmet like dying embers.
"Keep an eye on him," he said. "Not as an enemy… not yet. But not as a friend either."
And in the silence that followed, Magneto felt it—something deep and old stirring in the airless dark.
Change.
It had arrived.
Not with a whisper, but with golden flame.
------------------------------------------------
SHIELD Command Room
Nick Fury didn't look away from the paused frame on the screen—The Goliath, standing still, glowing like a dying sun.
"New codename: GOLIATH. Full black classification. Nobody talks about him unless they're talking to me."
Hill crossed her arms. "What is he?"
"I don't know," Fury muttered. "But he handled the Abomination like a schoolyard bully. And he held back. That's the part I can't stop thinking about."
He tapped the screen. "Get eyes on him. Satellites. Street cameras. Word of mouth. I don't care how. I want to know where he eats, sleeps, and who he's protecting."
------------------------------------------------
HYDRA – Shadow Council Meeting
Six holograms flickered to life across the dark conference table.
"This golden Goliath," one said. "He's not listed in any database."
"Then we make a new one," another replied. "We get his blood. His DNA. And we make more of him."
"What if we can't?"
A pause.
"Then we break him. Piece by piece."
------------------------------------------------
The White House
The President leaned forward, watching the same news footage loop over and over.
"Is this real?" he asked quietly.
The general nodded. "As real as anything gets these days."
"And we don't know who he is?"
"No record. No origin. No trace. He came out of nowhere and leveled the Abomination like it was a Tuesday afternoon jog."
The President rubbed his face. "Jesus Christ..."
------------------------------------------------
After teleporting away from the street, he and Hulk appeared in his dimension. The Hulk looked confused after seeing the dimension, which was in full white color. Without transforming back to his human form, he snapped his claw like fingers and the pure white scenery changed into that of a green meadow.
Looking at the even more confused Hulk, he said "Go wild. No one will stop you from enjoying your freedom."
The Hulk looked at him with the eyes of distrust and didn't move an inch. Raising his hand upwards, he told the Hulk "Don't worry. I won't hurt you. Play to your hearts content."
With a doubtful look, Hulk jumped away from his spot, and when Hulk saw that he was not chasing him, it smiled and started to jump around in glee and smashed the ground apart with a smirk. Total destruction took place in the green meadow.
Seeing that, he just smiled and said to himself "That proves my theory that Hulk is just an overpowered child that is lonely and wants to play to its heart's content."
He started to transform the landscape, so that there will be more things to destroy for the Hulk. Towering mountains, icebergs, buildings and even made a city block as a playground for the Hulk.
In the meantime, he started to surf through the internet, everything that was hidden behind closed doors in the internet were unlocked with ease, without alerting anyone. All the secrets in the world that was in the internet were like an open book to him. He was going to create an online identity to funnel the funds for his future from the most corrupt politicians and public servants.
While he was looting money digitally, he came across the latest news.
[BREAKING NEWS: Clash of Titans
New York City, NY – Chaos erupted in the city earlier today when a destructive rampage by the monstrous greyish giant was abruptly halted by an unidentified, golden-armored giant. Witnesses describe the figure as nearly ten feet tall, radiating golden energy, and possessing immense strength and speed.
The battle, which took place in the heart of the city, lasted only minutes but left a path of devastation. Eyewitnesses report the golden figure overpowering the Abomination with brutal efficiency, ultimately subduing the creature with what appeared to be telekinetic force and enhanced strength.
However, the most shocking moment came shortly after. As military personnel moved in to secure the scene, the Hulk — previously believed to be off the grid — emerged from a nearby crater. The golden figure and the Hulk, both vanished without any fanfare, leaving no trace.
General Thaddeus "Thunderbolt" Ross arrived on the scene shortly after and was reportedly demanding immediate answers. However, sources say even he was left in the dark about the identity of the armored stranger and the whereabouts of the Hulk.
Officials have yet to release a formal statement. The incident is now under investigation by the Department of Defense.
Locals are calling the greyish giant "The Abomination" because of it's appearance and mysterious golden giant "The Goliath" for its strength and speed. Social media is already flooded with footage, fan theories, and speculation regarding his origins and intentions.
More updates to follow as the story develops.]
Seeing the news, he chuckled and said to himself "The Goliath. A fitting name."
He looked through the news section and found out that he was the Goliath was the hit topic of the day. Then he started to infiltrate into the S.H.I.E.L.D database to know what they thought of him.
[S.H.I.E.L.D. SECURE DATABASE
CLEARANCE LEVEL: ALPHA-7
SUBJECT FILE: UNIDENTIFIED ENTITY – "The Goliath"
Status: Unknown
Threat Level: Preliminary Tier 7 – Escalating (Subject exhibits capabilities beyond known superhuman norms)
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CODE NAME: The Goliath
REAL NAME: Unknown
AFFILIATION: Unknown
FIRST RECORDED APPEARANCE: New York City – Incident Site [ABO-025]
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PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION:
Height: Approx. 9'6"
Armor: Golden, full-body suit of unknown composition or origin
Hair: Golden, flame-like in appearance; appears to move under unknown energy influence
Eyes: Glowing golden-yellow
Other Features: Black, curved horns on the side of face and temple; emits golden aura; voice altered/distorted
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OBSERVED POWERS & CAPABILITIES:
Superhuman Strength: Matched and overpowered the Abomination in direct melee combat
Enhanced Durability: Withstood counterattacks from the Abomination with no visible damage
Energy Projection/Manipulation: Used verbal trigger (Currently unknown) to immobilize target via unknown energy form – possibly telekinetic or dimensional in nature
Teleportation : Vanished from the scene instantaneously with Bruce Banner/Hulk; method unknown.
Tactical Precision: Demonstrated control, restraint, and surgical application of force; avoided civilian casualties
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INCIDENT SUMMARY:
Subject engaged Abomination during an unsanctioned rampage in central New York. Quickly established physical dominance, subdued target with a combination of brute force and unknown binding technique. After subduing the target, the subject secured the transformed soldier and delivered him to nearby military forces without hostility.
Immediately afterward, the Hulk emerged. Subject made brief physical contact and both vanished in an instant.
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KNOWN EQUIPMENT:
Armor: Golden; unknown material; possibly energy-formed or summoned
Offensive Capabilities: Enhanced physical attacks amplified by energy; restraint method possibly psionic; teleportation.
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ADDITIONAL NOTES:
No known identity, origin, or motive
Appears to possess extremely high-level abilities beyond current Earth-based tech or metahuman physiology
No attempt at communication beyond brief combat dialogue
Current whereabouts unknown
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RECOMMENDED ACTIONS:
Surveillance: Monitor for similar energy signatures globally
Containment Protocol: None feasible at present; classified as non-containable
Priority: HIGH – Unknown agenda, potential country-scale threat
Suggested Liaison: None at the moment.
---
COMMENTS (AGENT REPORT EXCERPT):
> "This wasn't a rampage. It was a message. He's powerful, yes—but in control. He chose to intervene. He chose to leave. The real question is… what will he choose next?"
– Agent Phil Coulson
FILE STATUS: OPEN – UNDER ACTIVE INVESTIGATION
UPDATES PENDING: Awaiting energy scan results, cross-reference with existing extradimensional entities
FILE ENCRYPTED – FOR AUTHORIZED EYES ONLY.]
Looking through the file, Goliath whistled and said "They move fast and that means I'll have to lookout for the S.H.I.E.L.D and Hydra from now on."
At that he snorted and started to laugh at his own words.
After some time of playing AKA destruction, Hulk came back to where Goliath was standing and slowly started to transform back into Bruce. Bruce looked at Goliath in fear, fear of a being who can alter a terrain with the snap of its fingers.
Braving through his fear, Bruce asked "Who are you?"
"They call me Goliath now. So call me that." Goliath said as he placed his hand on Bruce's shoulder.
Bruce winced a bit and asked "Where are we?"
Tilting his head downward, Goliath said "Let's just say that this is my Kingdom and I have total control over it."
As he said that two chairs and a table materialized with them in between. Seeing that, Bruce's eyes went wide and said "I can see that."
Goliath nodded his head. Then sitting on the chair, Goliath said "I can sent you to the place you want to go or you can stay here and understand what the Hulk really is." Spreading his hands, Goliath said "It's your choice. I'll give you an hour. So, rest here."
Another snap of finger, the scenery changed to calm beach house and then Goliath disappeared from the dimension, leaving Bruce to his own devices.