Chapter 4: A Deal in the Dark
The landing was a controlled crash, a thunderous impact that sent shockwaves through the forest floor. Talon landed in a crouch, his bronze form absorbing the brutal force, his grip on the Hulk and Betty unyielding. He felt the dull, deep ache of the armor-piercing rounds lodged in his back muscles. With a grunt of effort, he flexed the immense power of the Titan's physique. Muscles rippled and contracted, and with wet, popping sounds, the deformed slugs were forcibly expelled from his body, clattering onto the ground. The wounds sealed instantly, leaving only faint, silvery scars that faded within seconds.
He cast a final, searing glare back in the direction of General Ross. His voice, a low rumble that carried the promise of a future storm, echoed through the trees. "Remember this day, General! Your actions have forged a memory that will not fade. We will meet again!"
With that, he turned and ran. He was a force of nature, a bronze avalanche plowing through the forest. Trees that had stood for decades splintered and fell in his wake, unable to withstand the sheer, destructive momentum of his passage.
High above, in the command helicopter, General Ross watched the trail of devastation on a thermal monitor. His fist clenched around the radio.
"Sir, he still has Betty," his aide, Catherine, stated, her voice tight with tension. "Our teams are hesitant to deploy heavy munitions."
Ross slammed his hand against the console. "That girl! Undermining me at every turn!" he snarled, his face a mask of fury and frustration. "When she doesn't get her way, she becomes a liability. Useless!"
"Orders, sir?" Catherine asked, her professionalism a stark contrast to his rage.
Ross took a sharp, frustrated breath. "All units, stand down. Retreat and regroup." The words tasted like ash. He then glanced at another monitor showing the vitals of Emil Blonsky. "What about Blonsky?"
"Alive, sir. Critical but stable. His regenerative abilities are already kicking in."
"Good," Ross said, the word clipped. The Abomination was a failed prototype—too monstrous, too uncontrollable. A soldier who couldn't become a man again was a weapon without an off-switch, a political nightmare. Talon, however... a being who could shift between a powerful giant and a man... that was a prize worth any cost.
The relative silence of the sewer was a stark contrast to the chaos above. The only sounds were the drip of water and Betty's ragged sobs. Talon set his two captives down on the damp concrete. The Hulk, finally succumbing to his injuries and oxygen deprivation, collapsed into a groaning heap. Betty stumbled, gasping for air, before throwing herself over the massive green form of her lover.
"Bruce! Please, wake up," she cried, her voice echoing faintly in the tunnel.
Talon's form seemed to loom even larger in the confined space. "Persuade him," his voice echoed, cold and devoid of mercy. "His willing consent for the extraction, or I will end you both."
"I will! I'll make him understand! Just don't hurt us!" Betty begged, her face streaked with tears and grime.
For a fleeting moment, Talon felt a pang of something alien—remorse. But he crushed it instantly. Sentiment was a chain. In this world, power was the only true freedom, and he was so close to securing his.
The Hulk's legendary healing factor proved its worth once more. Within minutes, a low groan rumbled in his chest, and his eyes fluttered open, the rage within them banked to a simmering ember.
"Banner, you have to let him do it," Betty pleaded, her hands on his face. "It doesn't hurt you. Please, just do as he says so we can get out of this alive."
"Hulk... never... yields," the beast grunted, though his voice lacked its usual conviction. His eyes, for a moment, flickered to Betty, and a sliver of the man within, Bruce Banner, seemed to surface.
"For me," Betty whispered, her voice breaking. "Please, for me."
Talon saw the shift. He applied the final, brutal pressure. "Two choices, monster. You willingly submit to the extraction, or I snap her neck before your eyes."
The Hulk looked from Betty's terrified, pleading face to the implacable bronze giant. The anger warred with a deeper, more primal need to protect. The ember of rage was doused by a wave of desperate love. His massive shoulders slumped in defeat.
"Hulk... agrees," he ground out, the words a surrender that cost him dearly.
"Wise choice," Talon said, a thrill of victory coursing through him. He placed his hands on the Hulk's shoulder, the contact firm and unyielding. System, extract the Hulk's genetic template.
"Ding. Extraction failed. Subject's consent is not fully voluntary. Detection of profound internal resistance."
Failure?
Rage, hot and immediate, flared within Talon. He drove his fist down, not with full force, but enough to slam the Hulk's head into the concrete with a sickening crack. A spray of green-tinged spittle flew from the Hulk's mouth.
"You lied to me!" Betty shrieked, scrambling back.
"He lied to himself!" Talon roared back. "His spirit still defies me! Ask him!"
"Bruce, is it true?" Betty cried, her heart breaking.
The Hulk lifted his head, a feral, defiant grin spreading across his features. "Hulk... never loses. Only... waits."
Betty, realizing their very lives hung on this moment, turned all her focus on the beast. "Then lose for me! Let it go! Let him have what he wants, and we can leave! We can find a life, just us, somewhere far away from all of this. Please."
She poured every ounce of her love and fear into her eyes. The Hulk stared at her, the beast and the man within finally reaching a consensus. The fight went out of him. He looked at Talon, his gaze now stripped of defiance, filled only with exhausted resignation.
"Do it," he growled. "Hulk... allows it."
Talon placed his hands back on the green behemoth. System, extract the Hulk gene now.
"Ding. Hulk genetic template successfully extracted."
A wave of pure, unadulterated triumph washed over him. The key to his freedom was his.
"Go," he said, his voice losing its aggressive edge. "You are no longer of use to me."
The Hulk, weakened but swift, gathered Betty in his arms. With a single, powerful leap, he was gone, disappearing into the labyrinthine tunnels.
Alone, Talon gave the command. System, fuse the Hulk gene with my own.
"Ding. Fusion successful. Congratulations, host."
He felt a new layer of potential settle within him, a dormant storm waiting to be unleashed. He took a series of long, deep breaths, focusing on calm, on control. He envisioned his human form, the feel of his own skin. And then, the change began. It was less violent than the transformation into the Titan, a slow, shrinking sensation. The bronze giant receded, the immense power folding in on itself until Talon Reeve stood there, an ordinary man once more, shivering slightly in the cold, damp air.
He flexed his human hands, feeling the familiar, frustrating fragility. He concentrated, and felt the power surge back, his body swelling for a moment before he reined it in. He repeated the process several times, testing the limits, mastering the trigger. The weakness that followed the reversion was a vulnerability he despised.
"Being human is a weakness," he muttered to the dripping darkness. "The Abomination's raw power, the Hulk's limitless potential... it's not enough. I need more. I need the super-soldier's perfection, the spider's agility, the god's divinity."
He emerged from the sewer into the grimy light of a New York alley, a man with no past and a terrifying future. He had taken only a few steps onto the sidewalk when a figure detached itself from the shadows.
She moved with a predator's grace, a symphony in a sleek black outfit. Her hair was a cascade of fiery red, and her eyes held a universe of secrets. She approached him, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips, and offered a hand.
"My name is Natasha," she said, her voice a smooth, captivating alto. "It's a pleasure to meet you... Talon Reeve."
Talon took her hand. Her grip was firm, confident. He wasn't surprised. In a world of gods and monsters, an organization like S.H.I.E.L.D. was inevitable.
"And what does S.H.I.E.L.D. want with me?" he asked, his tone neutral, his guard firmly in place.
Natasha's smile widened, a perfectly crafted expression of charm and mystery. "Who said anything about S.H.I.E.L.D?" she purred. "I just saw a handsome man who looks like he could use a drink."