It didn't matter how hard Bruce tried.
His eyes started changing. That sickly, vibrant green spreading across his irises like poison. His breathing turned ragged—short, desperate gasps. Every muscle in his body tensed. His bones started shifting, making sounds they definitely weren't supposed to make.
Then his pupils just... disappeared. Swallowed by pure black that consumed the whites of his eyes.
Game over.
One hundred meters away, on a nearby rooftop
A man stood frozen, binoculars pressed to his face. Sweat poured down his forehead. His hands started shaking.
Then the binoculars slipped from his grip.
"FUCK!" he roared. "Fuck, fuck, MOTHERFUCKER! Best shooter my ass!"
He grabbed the binoculars off the ground and hurled them at the sniper who was still sitting there, stunned, like he'd just seen a ghost.
The binoculars hit the sniper in the shoulder with a loud thunk.
"Boss... I—I don't know what happened," the sniper stammered, his voice shaking. "The moment I pulled the trigger, my mind just... went blank. I swear I aimed for the head, but—"
"You useless piece of shit!" Andrew screamed, his voice cracking with pure terror. "We're screwed! Do you understand? We're completely—"
Then it happened.
ROOOAAARRR!
The sound hit them like a physical wall.
It wasn't just loud—it was felt. Like the air itself was being torn apart. Every window in a three-block radius shattered instantly. Andrew's eardrums felt like they were about to burst. He stumbled backward, hands clamped over his ears, mouth open in a silent scream.
The Hulk had arrived.
By the time that roar faded, Bruce Banner was already gone.
In his place stood a massive green figure—easily nine feet tall, maybe more. Pure muscle. Pure rage. He emerged from the rubble of the collapsed motel like some kind of ancient god of destruction, broken concrete and twisted rebar falling off his shoulders like rain.
He stood there for a moment, chest heaving, fists clenched.
Then his eyes landed on something.
A body. Lying in the debris nearby.
The fat man from the motel reception. The one who'd called Bruce "family." Bleeding. Not moving.
For just a second—just a fraction of a second—something flickered in those green eyes. A flash of recognition. Of humanity.
A memory. Buried deep. Bruce Banner's consciousness, screaming somewhere in the back of that monster's mind.
The Hulk's throat rumbled. A low, pained growl.
Then—
"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!"
Pure. Unfiltered. Rage.
Chaos erupted.
People started screaming. Running in every direction. A wave of panic spreading through the narrow streets and alleyways.
But here's the weird thing—there weren't as many people as you'd expect. Not in a city as densely packed as Kolkata. The streets were... emptier. Like something had told people to stay away today.
And more than that, there was terror in their face, but contrary to that, their eyes were incredibly calm.
And the Hulk? He didn't attack them.
He didn't smash random buildings. Didn't go on a mindless rampage.
He just... started walking.
East.
Like he had a destination. A purpose.
Because somewhere in the back of that green monster's brain, Bruce Banner's final panicked thought was still echoing: Head east. Toward Tibet. Get to China, and somehow or something made this only thought on his mind.
The Hulk was following orders he didn't even know he'd received.
High above, floating in the sky
Elric hovered silently, his coat flapping in the wind, watching everything unfold below like he was watching a movie.
Aline's voice crackled in his earpiece, mechanical and precise.
"Sir, current estimation: approximately zero injuries, zero confirmed deaths. Structural damage: 307 buildings."
A pause.
"Hulk's shockwave output exceeds initial calculations by 23%. He is significantly more powerful than projected."
Elric didn't respond immediately. He just kept watching.
He'd spent almost a month setting this up. Using his abilities to subtly influence everyone in the area—planting suggestions, nudging thoughts. It wasn't full mind control. Nothing that strong. More like... a gentle push. A vague feeling of "maybe I shouldn't go to that part of town today."
It worked on most people. The weak-willed ones, at least. Strong-willed people could ignore it completely.
But most people? Yeah. They listened to that little voice in their head.
So even though the Hulk was tearing through buildings like tissue paper, even though he was leaving a trail of destruction that would make the evening news worldwide...
Almost nobody got hurt.
Property damage? Massive. Buildings completely leveled.
But lives? Mostly spared.
The ones who did stay, Elric had intervened for personally. Moved them out of harm's way at the last second. Made sure falling debris missed them by inches.
It was exhausting work. But necessary.
Elric descended slowly, drifting back down to the ground.
He landed near a half-collapsed building—the one where the assassins had been positioned.
They were scattered in the rubble. Two of them looked dead. Crushed under concrete and steel. The others were barely breathing, groaning weakly, blood pooling around them.
But Elric knew better.
They looked like they were dying. That was the point. But in reality? They were fine. Better than fine, actually.
When the Hulk's roar brought down that four-story building, all of them should have died instantly. Crushed. No survivors.
But Elric had been there. And he couldn't let them die. Not yet.
Because if they died, who was going to reveal that this entire operation was ordered by General Ross?
So even though they looked half-dead, even though they were covered in blood and barely conscious, their life force was currently stronger than a full-grown elephant's. You could stab them a hundred times and they'd still keep breathing—at least until all the excess vitality Elric had pumped into them wore off.
They'd live. They'd recover. And when they did?
They'd talk.
Elric stood there for a moment, looking down at them with that same detached expression.
Then he turned and rose back into the air.
The Hulk's path was easy to follow.
Broken buildings. Shattered roads. Overturned cars. A trail of green destruction cutting through the city like a knife.
He'd already crossed the border into Bhutan and was now barreling into the mountains of China, moving with single-minded purpose toward... somewhere.
Elric followed at a distance, high enough not to be noticed, close enough to intervene if things went sideways.
His work here was done. Phase one: complete.
Now came the hard part—making sure the Hulk made it to where he needed to be without leveling half of Asia in the process.
He glanced down at the destruction below one more time.
Then he smiled faintly.
"Let's see how this plays out," he muttered to himself.
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