The monster's head snapped toward the source of the voice.
Tony Stark hovered in the air, his armor gleaming against the night sky. His face was hidden by the mask, yet anyone who knew him could imagine the look beneath it. That trademark arrogance, that smirk of superiority Tony Stark never changed.
"Iron Man!"
The creature snarled, its voice filled with disdain. Emil Blonsky, now reborn as Abomination, didn't like the title. His mind was consumed by power, but some human pride lingered. He despised being compared to Stark, despised the implication that his grotesque body could ever stand in the same category. Especially when he himself knew that his color, his form, was nothing short of monstrous.
With a roar, he bent his knees and launched himself upward.
The ground cratered under the force. In the blink of an eye, he closed the distance to Tony. The raw acceleration stunned even Stark.
"Whoa!"
He rolled sharply to the side, thrusters flaring. The leap missed by inches, but the shockwave of Abomination's landing rattled nearby buildings and shattered car windows.
When Blonsky struck the ground again, he had already broken free from the military cordon.
General Ross's face turned grim.
This operation had one goal capture the Hulk. They had achieved that, technically. Banner was in custody. But instead, they had birthed something worse. Something uncontrollable.
If Abomination were unleashed on Harlem, the destruction would be catastrophic. Ross had fought countless battles, carried the weight of medals and scars, but he knew this could end his career or his life.
To his surprise, the monster didn't flee.
Abomination crouched, muscles rippling, and then leapt straight back into the center of the battlefield. He wanted more. He wanted to fight.
Ross exhaled in relief, though his expression remained ashen. Emil Blonsky had always been too arrogant, too reckless.
The proof came quickly. With one massive hand, Abomination seized a tank. Metal screeched under his grip as if it were nothing more than a toy. A few savage blows, and the war machine was nothing but a flattened disc of twisted steel.
The cannon barrel, once a weapon of terror, bent like wet clay in his hands.
That was a tank. And it had been reduced to scrap in seconds.
"Damn it," Ross hissed. "Deploy the T-800s! All of them!"
Orders snapped through the comms.
Dozens of Terminators surged forward in unison, their glowing red optics cutting through the smoke. At the same time, the APU exosuits maintained suppressive fire.
The air thundered with gunfire. A hailstorm of large-caliber rounds slammed into Abomination, their sheer force staggering him back. The creature bellowed in pain, clutching his chest.
The rounds couldn't pierce his hide, but they hurt.
And pain planted doubt.
For the first time, he hesitated. Could his eyes, his joints, the vulnerable parts of his body, withstand such concentrated fire?
Even so, his monstrous durability held. His skin did not break. His defense was absurd, bordering on invincible.
Ross seized the chance.
The Terminators closed in, weapons raised, surrounding the creature. Ross's lips curled into a thin smile. He trusted the machines. Once, a handful of Terminators had stalled the Hulk himself. Now there were dozens. Against those numbers, even Abomination had limits.
Hovering above, Tony Stark tilted his head at the scene.
He didn't intervene, not yet. If the military's machines could finish the fight, he was content to watch. Less risk for him, less damage to his suit.
But privately, he scoffed.
Robots. Nothing more than glorified scrap metal. He had mocked them once before, and his opinion hadn't changed. In fact, seeing Ross deploy them again only deepened his contempt.
Stark's armor had evolved through five generations now, each iteration sharper, faster, deadlier. His weapon systems were cutting-edge, built to take on threats just like this. And all of it, he thought bitterly, had been forced by one man.
Nolan Lock.
Lock Technologies advanced at a frightening pace, pushing Stark to keep up or be left behind. Without that rivalry, perhaps his Mark V wouldn't even exist.
On the ground, the clash began.
The Terminators struck first, their combined strength shaking the earth. Their superalloy shells resisted Abomination's fists, and for a brief moment, the monster was restrained.
But only briefly.
Abomination adapted fast. His raw strength dwarfed theirs. His massive arms tore through their formation, flinging Terminators like broken dolls. One by one, machines that had cost millions fell apart under his assault.
The crowd gasped. Even Stark's eyes widened behind his visor.
This wasn't a fight. It was slaughter.
Ross felt his stomach drop.
"No," he muttered. "This can't be happening…"
His greatest weapons, reduced to scrap in minutes.
Stark clenched his fists. If this monster eliminated the Terminators, even he couldn't be certain of victory. His suit, no matter how advanced, wasn't built to take on an enemy like this alone.
"J.A.R.V.I.S.," he snapped. "Target lock! Deploy shoulder missiles!"
"Confirmed," the AI replied.
Missiles streaked from his armor, slamming into Abomination in a chain of explosions. Smoke and fire consumed the street.
For a heartbeat, silence.
Then came the roar.
Abomination emerged through the flames, unscathed but enraged.
Ross realized the truth. This was no longer a mission. This was a disaster spiraling out of control.
He turned sharply to his men. "Take Banner! Get him out of here!"
Even he considered retreat.
Above, the news helicopters kept their distance, rotors beating nervously. The reporters inside whispered in terror, their voices carried live across the nation.
"My God," one stammered. "This monster… the military can't stop him. Not even Iron Man can hold him back!"
Inside one of the choppers, a young journalist named Keppel gripped his microphone tightly. His voice cracked with fear, but behind his trembling eyes, ambition burned.
He had applied for this assignment, fought for it. And now he was closer than anyone. Thirty meters closer than his competitors, giving him a unique angle. A dangerous one.
"Bob," he hissed to the pilot. "Can you take us lower? Closer? We'll have the best shot exclusive footage!"
The pilot snapped his head around, horrified. "Are you insane? Get closer and we're dead. Either the monster grabs us or we're shredded by stray fire. I'm not dying for your career!"
Keppel bit his lip, then forced a smile at the camera. "It seems our pilot's nerves got the better of him. A pity. But we'll continue to bring you the closest coverage possible of this nightmare."
His words trailed as he noticed his cameraman's eyes widen in shock.
Keppel turned, just in time to see it.
A fireball in the distance. A helicopter had been swatted from the sky like a toy, tumbling in flames.
And clinging to its wreckage, glaring up at Stark with murderous intent, was Abomination.
Down below, the battlefield was littered with wreckage. Of the dozens of Terminators, only a handful still functioned. The rest were nothing but scattered limbs and broken chassis.
Keppel's heart pounded. "No… no way. I only looked away for a second. How did it turn into this so fast?"
Ross's face went pale. His trump card, gone.
They had nothing left.
On the sidelines, Banner's eyes followed Abomination with a mixture of terror and guilt. He clenched his fists, body trembling. Could he still become the Hulk? Could he risk it? He didn't know. But deep down, he realized the truth.
Only the Hulk could stop this.
Far away, the sound of an engine roared through the night.
Nolan Lock was coming.
He leaned low on a sleek black motorcycle, its frame humming with suppressed power. Behind him, ranks of APU mechs thundered in unison, their metal feet pounding the streets.
On his display, live footage of the battlefield played. He saw the chaos, the destruction, the fear. His brows knitted.
He twisted the throttle.
The engine screamed.
It was time for the hero to arrive.
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