"Hulk is furious…"
Even after being seized by the colossal hand that blotted out the sky, Hulk refused to submit. His massive frame strained against the grip, muscles bulging as he fought with everything he had, but the hand held him in place like an iron vise. No matter how violently he struggled, the pressure did not loosen in the slightest.
A deafening roar tore from his throat, echoing across the ruined streets below. It carried pure rage, raw and unfiltered, yet even that overwhelming force failed to break him free. The strength that had crushed armies and leveled battlefields now found itself completely restrained.
Even Peter, who had been moments away from being torn apart, was forced to let go and retreat. The sheer scale of the power involved had exceeded even his expectations.
Those jagged, scale-like claws that held Hulk in place were not some unknown force.
They were Susanoo.
And the one controlling it was Liam.
Originally, when he had only possessed the Indra bloodline, the manifestation of Susanoo had been formidable, but far from this overwhelming. Now, after integrating the Divine Tree bloodline into his system, everything had changed. The techniques he wielded were no longer merely powerful—they were amplified to an absurd degree, reaching levels that could only be described as monstrous.
The Divine Tree was the origin of all chakra-based abilities, the source from which every ninja technique had been born. With its bloodline running through him, Liam wasn't just using those abilities.
He was embodying them.
Every movement, every activation, flowed as naturally as breathing. It required no strain, no effort. It was as effortless as reaching out and grabbing something within arm's reach.
Liam casually lifted his hand, tapping the side of his milk tea cup as he noticed a thin layer of frost forming along the surface. Without a hint of urgency, he brought it to his lips and took a long, satisfied drink, as if the chaos unfolding around him had nothing to do with him at all.
He glanced sideways at the stunned Avengers in the distance, a grin tugging at his lips as he exhaled in contentment.
"That hit the spot."
Beside him, the massive figure sitting upright remained silent, watching without fully understanding what his master was doing. Yet even without comprehension, he could feel it—the strange sense of ease, of enjoyment that radiated from him.
To Liam, even something as violent as this battlefield felt… comfortable.
—
Below, the Avengers stood frozen.
In the span of a single day, everything they thought they understood had been shattered. First came the rampage of the corrupted Spider-Man, then the deployment of Tony's satellite weapons, followed by a lightning strike that had crippled them. And now—
A hand emerging from the sky itself.
"Has New York turned into some kind of mutant stronghold?" Captain Steve muttered, his lips trembling as the thought settled in.
His face darkened, the weight of the situation pressing down on him.
"Not a group," Tony said quietly, his usual carefree tone completely gone. His expression was sharp, focused, and deadly serious. "More likely… a single individual."
He had already pieced it together.
Every time they had come close to capturing Peter, something had intervened. A hidden force, acting from the shadows, dismantling their efforts with precision. The lightning creature had appeared and vanished just as quickly, leaving nothing behind except devastation.
And now, just as Banner had arrived to secure victory, another unknown power had stepped in and taken control of the situation entirely.
If they escalated this further, if they called in the military or expanded the search, there was no telling what kind of disaster they would unleash.
"Steve… maybe it's time we stop chasing Spider-Man," Tony said, his voice firm.
He didn't want to admit it, but he understood the reality of their position. There were times when pushing forward wasn't bravery—it was stupidity.
But not everyone could see that.
Captain Steve's eyes widened, anger flashing across his face as he turned toward Tony.
"Back down? From this?" His voice rose, sharp and unyielding. "Since when do we retreat from evil?"
Tony's patience snapped.
He grabbed Steve by the front of his suit, pulling him closer as he pointed up toward the sky.
"On what grounds do we keep going?" he demanded, his voice cutting. "I've lost seventeen suits of armor. I'm out of the fight. So what's the plan? Send you up there to deal with that? Or call Fury and have him try his luck?"
The question hung in the air, unanswered.
"The situation is already against us," Tony continued, his grip tightening slightly before he let go.
Steve opened his mouth, ready to respond with something idealistic, something worthy of the symbol he represented. But when his gaze shifted, when he saw the exhaustion etched across the faces of his teammates, the words died before they could form.
The reality was undeniable.
They had lost.
His shoulders slumped, the weight of that truth finally settling in.
"We lost this battle," he said quietly.
There was no pride left in his voice.
"I just hope Banner can break free and make it back," Hawkeye added, his tone uneasy as he looked toward the sky.
"You don't need to worry about him," Tony replied, stepping forward again. "Banner is stronger than you think."
He paused for a moment, recalling something from the past.
"I've fought him before. Back when Ross sent in two full legions, armed with Stark tech. Didn't matter. Hulk tore through them like they weren't even there."
The others stared at him, stunned.
"You're saying he fought an entire military force… barehanded?" Black Widow asked, disbelief creeping into her voice.
Tony gave a small nod.
"Yeah."
A heavy silence followed.
"Then maybe…" Hawkeye murmured, his gaze lifting slightly. "Maybe he can pull off a miracle."
—
"HULK IS FURIOUS!!!"
The roar echoed again as Hulk's body began to swell even further. His muscles expanded rapidly, growing denser, thicker, more powerful with every passing second. His frame pushed past its previous limits, stretching upward until he stood nearly five meters tall.
The increase in size brought with it a surge in strength.
His arms strained against the grip of Susanoo, the immense force causing the massive fingers to tremble slightly. The scales along the construct's surface began to crack and peel under the pressure.
Hulk roared again, louder this time, his rage climbing higher.
And with it, the grip on him began to falter.
Even Peter, clinging to the side of a nearby building, felt it. The shift in power was unmistakable. The threat level of the green monster was rising at an alarming rate, far beyond what it had been moments ago.
Before, he had been confident he could evade him.
Now?
Now all he wanted was to get as far away as possible.
Every instinct screamed at him to run.
But just as he prepared to leave, something changed.
Something appeared.
It wasn't a gift. It wasn't salvation.
It was something else entirely.
An eye opened in the sky.
It didn't belong there. It didn't fit within reality, its presence wrong in a way that defied explanation. The design was intricate, unnatural, radiating an eerie, oppressive energy that seemed to distort everything around it.
The Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan.
The moment it appeared, the world itself seemed to hold its breath.
And then—
A figure emerged.
Clad in a long black robe, his entire body concealed within its folds, he stepped into existence as if he had always been there. His movements were smooth, almost unreal, like a phantom drifting through the air.
He stood directly in front of Hulk.
A normal man would have been crushed instantly.
But he didn't move.
He simply looked up.
And when their eyes met—
Everything changed.
In an instant, Hulk's consciousness was dragged away, pulled into a separate space entirely.
A world of endless darkness unfolded around him, barren and silent, stretching out in all directions. The chaos of the battlefield vanished, replaced by an oppressive stillness.
Hulk's form shifted, shrinking, reshaping—
Until Dr. Banner stood there once more.
His breathing was steady, his mind clear as awareness returned to him. Instinctively, he took a step back, his eyes locking onto the figure standing before him.
"Who are you?" he asked cautiously.
The man tilted his head slightly, as if considering the question.
"Me?" he said, his voice calm, almost amused. "You can call me the Bloodhand Butcher… or the God of Wind. Either works."
He counted on his fingers casually, as though the titles meant nothing.
Then his gaze settled on Banner.
"The name isn't important," he continued. "What matters is this…"
He took a slow step forward.
"Dr. Banner… do you like your life right now?"
His voice softened slightly, carrying something deeper beneath it.
"Do you enjoy being torn away from your girlfriend… and turning into a monster?"
.....
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