The Hulk's massive chest heaved, his emerald eyes flickering with a mixture of predatory rage and a child's confusion. "Hulk... Banner... Master... Betty..." He rumbled, the names sounding like grinding stones in his throat. He looked at Huang Wen, his face contorted with a sense of grievance.
Inside that vast, chaotic headspace, Bruce Banner was screaming at the Hulk to move, to find Betty, to tear down anything in his path. But the physical Hulk was wavering. Huang Wen's presence was a stabilizing anchor—or a terrifying obstacle—that he couldn't quite decide how to handle.
"This is exactly why I kept my mouth shut until now," Huang Wen said, his voice dropping an octave, becoming a resonant hum that vibrated through the air and directly into the consciousness of both the man and the beast. "Think, Bruce. If you go charging into a high-security military installation like a bull in a china shop, what happens to the person in the middle of the experiment? One wrong vibration, one shockwave from your tantrum, and Betty is the one who pays the price. Can you live with that?"
The green giant's shoulders slumped slightly. The fires of rage didn't go out, but they banked into a low, smoldering ember. The hesitation in his eyes was palpable.
"Right now, your only job is to be the man she expects you to be when she walks through that door," Huang Wen continued, sensing the shift. "She didn't volunteer for this because she wanted to be a soldier. She did it so she could stand next to you without being afraid of the fallout. Support her. Wait for her... wait, scratch that."
Huang Wen's eyebrows shot up suddenly, a small, knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"Alright, Banner, back in the box. Betty's already entered Chinatown. She's moving fast. Get upstairs, find some clothes that aren't shredded rags, and try to look presentable. You've got five minutes."
"Really?" The Hulk's voice was a low growl of disbelief, but the green skin was already beginning to recede, the massive frame shrinking down into the much more fragile, pale form of Bruce Banner.
Bruce stood there, shivering slightly as the adrenaline ebbed away. He stared at Huang Wen, his mind racing. Was it possible? Had she really come back that quickly, almost as if summoned by the mention of her name? He wondered if Betty had somehow become like the legendary 'Cao Cao' that Huang Wen often joked about—speak of the devil and he appears.
But his joy was quickly tempered by a cold dread. He thought about the 'experiment' Huang Wen mentioned. What had she done to herself? Was she still the Betty he knew, or had she become another victim of the gamma-irradiated curse?
"Go! Move!" Huang Wen snapped, half-annoyed. "Seriously, Bruce, you're a genius scientist. Why haven't you developed a high-tech polymer suit yet? Is the 'hulk-sized purple pants' aesthetic really a fetish of yours? You look like a hobo."
"I... I'll get right on that," Banner stammered, his mind half-elsewhere as he scrambled toward the living quarters to find a spare shirt.
"And when you're done with your reunion, start practicing your forms with the others," Huang Wen called after him. "Maybe if you had some actual martial arts discipline, you wouldn't be so jittery."
Once Banner was out of sight, Huang Wen tapped his watch. A holographic window flickered to life—a bird's-eye view from a nearby street camera. Betty Ross was walking down the sidewalk, her stride confident, almost predatory.
"She looks... normal," Huang Wen muttered, scanning the biometrics Silly Girl was feeding him. "Surface level, there's no change. But the energy density is off the charts. Is she a She-Hulk? A Red Hulk? Or something else entirely?" He shook his head. "Doesn't matter. That's for Banner to lose sleep over."
Downstairs, the front door of the Wing Chun Academy swung open.
"Bruce! I'm back!" Betty's voice rang out, clear and full of a strange, Newfound strength.
Banner didn't even wait for her to reach the stairs. He practically tumbled down the flight, skidding to a halt in the foyer. The two collided in a desperate, bone-crushing embrace.
"I know, Betty... I know what you did," Bruce whispered into her hair, his voice trembling. "Thank you. For everything. But you shouldn't have risked it."
"I did it for us, Bruce," Betty pulled back slightly, her eyes glowing with an inner fire. "I have something to show you. Something that changes everything."
Before they could get too deep into their emotional reunion, the air around them shimmered. In a flash of blue-white light, they were plucked from the entrance hall and deposited into the sleek, metallic interior of Base One.
"Master?" Bruce looked around, disoriented.
Huang Wen stepped out from behind a console, looking entirely too smug. "Sorry to kill the vibe, but having the two of you weeping and hugging in the front lobby is bad for business. My students are supposed to be practicing their punches, not watching a soap opera."
"You could have just sent us to the roof, Master," Bruce muttered, though he didn't let go of Betty's hand.
"And miss the reveal?" Huang Wen chuckled. "Silly Girl needs to run a diagnostic anyway. We need to make sure your father didn't leave any 'surprises' in your genetic code, Betty."
Betty nodded, stepping forward. "My father ran every test in the book. He thinks I'm stable. He thinks I'm the perfect version of what he was trying to build."
She took a deep breath, her eyes snapping shut for a second. Suddenly, the air grew hot. Her skin didn't turn green; it flushed a deep, vibrant crimson. Her height surged, her muscles knitting together into a powerful, athletic frame. Unlike the bulky, boulder-like mass of the Hulk, this 'She-Red Hulk' was sculpted—like a Greek statue carved from ruby. She looked lean, fast, and incredibly dangerous.
"Well," Huang Wen whistled, leaning against a pillar. "I guess the 'high-tech clothes' conversation needs to happen sooner rather than later."
Bruce, seeing Betty in her transformed state, immediately stripped off his own button-down shirt and draped it over her shoulders, looking slightly embarrassed as he noticed the sheer presence she commanded. "You're right, Master. We need a lab. A real one."
"You two should probably find your own place," Huang Wen suggested, a playful glint in his eye. "Rent something near Chinatown. General Ross has officially called off the manhunt for the Hulk, so you're not 'fugitives' anymore. Besides, with two Hulks under one roof... I like this building. I'd like it to stay standing after you two have your first 'disagreement'."
He added a silent thought to himself: Especially since they've both been pent up for years. Those walls aren't that thick.
Betty laughed, a sound that was surprisingly melodic even in her She-Hulk form. "Actually, my father has a property nearby. A brownstone he kept for 'operations'. I think it's time we turned it into a home. Come on, Bruce, let's go see it."
Huang Wen watched them leave, sending them back to the academy entrance with a flick of his wrist. "Young love," he sighed. "Always so heavy-handed."
Across town at Midtown High, the cafeteria was its usual chaotic self. Peter Parker was sitting across from Huang Liang, shoving a sandwich into his mouth like he hadn't eaten in a week. His senses were still dialled up to eleven. He could hear the lunch lady complaining about her back three rooms away, and he could smell the exact ingredients in the mystery meat being served at the next table.
"Slow down, Pete," Huang Liang chuckled. "The Academy isn't going anywhere. We've got plenty of time."
"I just feel... efficient," Peter said, his voice muffled by ham and cheese. "I feel like if I don't keep moving, I might just float away."
Just then, Mary Jane Watson walked past their table. She was laughing at something a friend said, holding a tray laden with a salad and a juice box. Peter's heart did a little flip, his gaze following her automatically.
Suddenly, time slowed down.
Peter saw it before it happened. A patch of spilled chicken soup, slick and greasy on the linoleum. MJ's heel hit the edge of the spill. Her ankle buckled. The tray began to tilt.
Before Huang Liang could even blink, Peter was gone from his seat.
In a blur of motion that shouldn't have been possible for a high school nerd, Peter was at MJ's side. He caught her around the waist, pulling her back into a steady stance. Simultaneously, his other hand shot out like a strike from a cobra, snagging the falling tray and leveling it before a single drop of juice could spill.
He stood there, holding her, the tray perfectly balanced on his fingertips.
"Whoa," MJ gasped, her eyes wide as she looked up at him. "Peter? That was... that was incredible! Where did you learn to move like that?"
Peter felt the heat rushing to his face. "Uh... I've been, you know, doing some stretching. Yoga. It's good for the core."
MJ smiled, a genuine, dazzling look that made Peter's knees weak. "Well, thank you. I didn't even notice your eyes were so bright today. Did you get new contact lenses? They really bring out the color."
"Yeah... something like that," Peter stammered, gently letting her go.
She lingered for a second, looking at him with a new sense of curiosity, before heading off to her table. Peter practically floated back to his seat, a dazed grin on his face.
"You idiot," Huang Liang whispered, leaning in. "That was the perfect opening! You should have invited her to sit! You just did a superhero save and then acted like a shy puppy."
"I... I didn't want to push my luck," Peter whispered back.
Huang Liang shook his head, though he was clearly impressed. "Listen, that move you just did? That wasn't just 'good reflexes'. That was instinct. Uncle Logan back at the Academy has something similar—he calls it his 'Beast Sense'. It's like he knows where the danger is before it even arrives."
"Beast Sense?" Peter frowned. "But I'm not a beast. I'm just... me."
"We'll see about that," Huang Liang said, standing up and grabbing his bag. "Lunch is over. Let's get to the Academy. I want to see how you handle a real sparring session."