While Tony went off to fight the Abomination, Arthur returned to "hypnotizing" the Hulk with his fists. The Hulk's accumulated rage grew with every passing moment, and his power rose to yet another level.
Suddenly, the Hulk threw a punch that sent Arthur flying.
Boom!
Arthur shot through the air, crashing through dozens of trees in rapid succession.
The Hulk didn't have any special fighting technique. In fact, he had no technique at all.
But the Hulk was tough and unshakable, unbelievably strong, and absurdly fast. Why would he need fighting skills?
One word defined the Hulk: Brute force.
The green giant threw his head back and released another furious roar. Despite being shaken, the X-Men and Spider-Woman immediately resumed their positions, moving in perfect synchrony—not because it had been rehearsed, but because after fighting the Hulk for so long, each of them already knew what the others would do before they even moved.
Jean strengthened her mental block, trying to restrain the Hulk's fury—if only for a second, just enough to prevent him from powering up further.
Cyclops slid across the ground to get a clean angle, maintaining a constant blast against the monster's chest, forcing him backward with every second of hesitation.
Gambit threw cards charged with kinetic energy, exploding with enough force to shake the ground without harming his teammates.
Rogue took advantage of the brief intervals between the Hulk's swings to rush in with all the strength she had absorbed, landing direct blows to his massive torso.
Wolverine darted in and out between the giant's legs and arms, attacking whenever he spotted an opening.
Storm manipulated the weather around them, creating dense air currents and lightning to push the Hulk back or redirect his strikes.
And Gwen, swinging through the chaos, bound the Hulk with increasingly thicker webs, trying to limit his mobility as much as possible.
Even with all that, the Hulk continued advancing.
Each step he took sent cracks spreading across the ground like spiderwebs. It was like trying to hold back a hurricane with bare hands.
It was at that moment that Arthur stood up from where he had crashed.
He staggered at first, dust sliding off his clothes.
"Damn… I'm definitely getting bruises because of you…" he muttered with deep annoyance.
Arthur raised his hand, and his stone tablet materialized in his grip.
"Hold him. Just a few seconds," he said, placing his hand on the tablet's surface.
And then—
The sky opened.
Above Central Park, a massive golden portal appeared, and from within it, hundreds of magic wands emerged.
Gwen whispered, barely believing it:
"Is that… all his?"
Wolverine clicked his claws into place.
"I've seen this bastard pull off some weird shit… but this? This is new even for me."
The wands floated in formation, all pointed at the Hulk.
"Get away from him."
Instantly, everyone retreated at once, leaping to wherever was safe enough.
The Hulk tried to push forward.
Jean shoved him back with telekinesis.
Cyclops struck his left knee with a concentrated beam.
Rogue delivered a final punch to destabilize him.
Gwen held his leg for one more second.
Logan slashed the Hulk's thigh to force him to bend.
Storm created a descending column of pressurized air, pinning the giant in place.
Arthur lifted his hand.
And the sky fell upon the Hulk.
A magical massacre.
Lightning, flames, slicing winds, concussive blasts, glowing spheres, cutting beams—everything, absolutely everything, fired at the green giant at once.
The light was so intense that the entire park turned gold for a second.
The impact was colossal, driving the Hulk several meters into the ground as if crushed by divine force.
The monster roared, tried to rise, but every movement received another barrage. His muscles trembled, his green skin ripped under the strikes, and his fury—once endless—began to falter.
Arthur lowered his hand.
The wands stopped.
The portal closed with a silent boom.
When the dust finally settled, the Hulk was covered in blood, his wounds horrific and terrifying, bones exposed in several places.
He lay motionless on the ground, apparently stunned by the overwhelming attack…
Arthur walked toward him with complete calm.
"Now sleep," he murmured.
The green giant tried to push himself up, one last act of resistance, but his muscles failed.
He collapsed face-first.
Gwen sat on the ground, exhausted.
Cyclops cut off the beam and dropped to his knees, panting.
Wolverine sheathed his claws with a dry grunt.
Gambit spun a card between his fingers before letting it fall.
Storm breathed deeply, stabilizing the atmosphere around them.
Jean wiped sweat from her forehead.
Arthur simply stored the tablet back in his Gate of Babylon.
"There," he said with simplicity. "Now it's finally over."
---xXx---
Slowly, as if emerging from a thick nightmare, Bruce Banner regained consciousness. The sensation was disorienting—like waking from a burning fever. The smell of dust and torn earth still permeated the air.
He blinked several times, trying to understand where he was… and then his gaze landed on the figure sitting beside him.
Arthur.
The blond man remained there calmly, arms resting on his knees.
Banner instinctively recoiled, his body jerking in alarm.
His mind was still foggy, memories shattered like broken glass. He couldn't recall the exact sequence of events, but he remembered one thing clearly: that man punching the Hulk.
And then—
Beep beep beep beep beep—
His watch began screeching in alarm. Banner's heart raced violently, as if trying to escape through his throat. He widened his eyes, breathing rapidly.
"No… no… no!" he murmured in panic, pressing a hand to his chest.
It was always like this.
A single emotional trigger… and the other one started to stir inside.
Arthur finally spoke, voice low:
"Relax, Banner. I'm not here to attack you."
The words hit him like an anchor.
Banner gasped one last time before his shoulders loosened—just slightly. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he crossed his legs, trying to stabilize his thoughts.
Long minutes passed in tense silence, broken only by the beeps gradually returning to normal. His breathing wavered between anxiety and the disciplined control he had learned over the years.
Eventually, Banner exhaled deeply—exhausted, but relieved.
He had won another internal battle.
A bitter victory, as always.
When he finally lifted his head, his eyes met Arthur's. There was a mix of gratitude, fear… and even a hint of curiosity.
"Are you with S.H.I.E.L.D. too?" he asked, voice rough.
Arthur chuckled softly, tilting his head.
"I doubt Fury would want me anywhere near his organization."
Banner blinked, confused, but didn't press. Something more urgent struck him instead.
"And… that agent?" he asked suddenly, remembering the woman who had tried recruiting him before everything fell apart. "Is she okay?"
"She is. Someone I know treated her before I stepped into the fight," Arthur replied. "And you should thank the X-Men and Spider-Woman too. While I stayed here to watch over you, they went to deal with your cheap knockoff."
"Knockoff…?" Banner repeated, bewildered.
It was then that a familiar voice echoed through the area:
"Bruce!"
Both men turned at once.
Betty Ross walked toward them, supported by Natasha. Her skin was scraped, clothes dusty, but she was alive—her eyes full of concern.
"Betty…" Banner breathed, his voice cracking with emotion. He almost jumped to his feet, waving lightly, as if confirming she wasn't a hallucination.
She gave him a small, warm smile, squeezing Natasha's arm for balance as she approached.
Arthur rose to his feet.
"Let's give you two some space," he said simply.
As he turned to leave, he added:
"By the way, Banner… Fury may not be trustworthy most of the time, but accepting S.H.I.E.L.D.'s offer might be a good idea—especially now."
Then he looked at the redhead beside Natasha.
"Natasha… I think we have a lot to catch up on."
She smiled at him.
"Yes… we do."
(End of Chapter)