"So, Teacher... is that why you didn't hand me a stack of anatomy books or make me memorize the 365 primary acupoints?" Bruce Banner asked, a self-deprecating chuckle escaping his lips. He scratched the back of his neck, looking a bit sheepish. "The thing is, I actually went ahead and memorized all the meridian diagrams you gave Logan and John anyway. Habit of a scientist, I guess. Is there any chance I can learn the same internal energy cultivation they're doing?"
Huang Wen looked at the brilliant physicist and offered a sympathetic smile, shaking his head. "It's not a matter of your intelligence, Bruce. It's a matter of internal real estate. Unlike John or Logan, whose mutations are woven into their DNA, the Hulk is an independent consciousness with his own spiritual weight. If I forced a foreign internal force into your pathways, how do you think the Big Guy would react? He'd see it as an invader. He'd rebel, and your body would become a literal battlefield between the Qi and the Gamma energy."
Bruce's expression faltered. The thought of a civil war happening inside his veins wasn't exactly a pleasant one. "I... I hadn't thought of it that way. Does he really care that much about what's going on inside?"
"Put yourself in his shoes," Huang Wen said, pacing slowly. "Right now, your relationship with the Hulk is like two roommates who hate each other, sharing a tiny studio apartment. You don't talk, you just take turns using the bed. If you suddenly decided to install a high-tech security system that he didn't authorize, he'd smash it just to prove a point."
Bruce sighed. He knew the truth in those words. Currently, his "communication" with the Hulk was primitive at best. He knew the Hulk liked smashing things, he knew the Hulk had a strange affinity for fruit, and he knew that when he got angry enough, the lights went out and the Hulk took the wheel. That was it.
The dream of being a whole person—of talking to the Hulk while conscious, or even guiding that raw power instead of just fearing it—felt like a distant shore.
"Sit down, Bruce. Close your eyes and clear your mind," Huang Wen commanded, his voice dropping into a tone of absolute authority. "I'm not going to give you a power that fights the Hulk. I'm going to give you a tool to talk to him. I call it a 'Special Ability,' but think of it as a bridge for your soul."
What Huang Wen was about to do was a daring piece of "haphazard research." Drawing from the concepts of enlightenment and power transfer he'd unlocked through the system, he had modified a mental-type ability. Normally, attempting to "gift" a superpower to someone else would fry the user's brain, but Huang Wen had the Regeneration Dragon Badge. His mental and physical cells were constantly being knitted back together, allowing him to experiment with the limits of reality in ways no normal master could.
"This isn't going to make you Superman overnight," Huang Wen warned, sitting cross-legged in front of Banner. "It's a seed. A nascent spark of spiritual power. Once I plant it, it's yours. It won't be tied to my energy, meaning you'll have to feed it with your own meditation and discipline. If you're lazy, the seed withers."
Huang Wen reached out, placing his right hand firmly on Bruce's forehead and his left over the center of his chest. He closed his eyes, and a shimmering, translucent energy began to flow.
In the world of 'Special Abilities,' practitioners usually spent decades studying theory before they could even move a pebble. Huang Wen was bypassing all of that. He was effectively "jump-starting" Bruce's brain.
He specifically filtered the transmission. He granted Bruce the four core pillars he had mastered: Object Substitution, Psychokinesis (Object Control), Perception, and Illusion. He intentionally left out X-ray vision. He figured that giving a man like Bruce Banner the ability to see through walls—and clothes—was a recipe for a very different kind of social disaster, and Huang Wen had a reputation to maintain as a dignified teacher.
BOOM!
Inside Bruce's head, it felt like a silent supernova had detonated. For a split second, he panicked, expecting the blinding agony that usually preceded a Hulk-out. But the pain never came. Instead, a wave of crystalline clarity washed over him. It was like living his whole life in a foggy room and suddenly having someone wipe the windows clean.
If there had been even a flicker of genuine pain, the Hulk would have surged forward to protect the "puny human." But the Big Guy stayed quiet, sensing only a cool, refreshing breeze blowing through their shared mind.
Bruce snapped his eyes open. He felt exhausted, but his gaze was sharper than it had ever been. He looked down and saw a small, rusted screw lying on the floor.
He didn't reach for it with his hand. He reached for it with his will.
The screw wobbled. Then, with a faint metallic hum, it hovered three inches off the ground. Bruce's face lit up with pure, childlike joy. "I... I did it. I'm doing it!"
But the surge of excitement broke his concentration. The screw clattered back to the floor, and Bruce slumped forward, panting heavily.
"Easy there, Einstein," Huang Wen chuckled, patting his shoulder. "Your 'mana pool' is currently the size of a thimble. Right now, your psychic strength is barely above that of a regular person. If you tried to use an illusion right now, a focused toddler could see through it. But it's a start."
"It's more than a start, Teacher," Bruce gasped, wiping sweat from his brow. "It's... it's mine. The Hulk didn't do this. I did."
"Exactly. And here's the best part: because this is a mental ability, it exists in the 'space' between you and him. When the Hulk is out, your consciousness is usually suppressed, right? Well, with this, you can stay 'awake' in the background. You can observe. You can practice your mental exercises while he's smashing tanks. And while you're doing that, I'll be busy teaching the Big Guy some actual technique."
Bruce looked up, his worry returning. "You're really going to try and train him? Professor Xavier... Charles... he spent weeks just trying to get the Hulk to sit still. He had to bribe him with crates of apples and oranges just to get a 'hello'."
As Bruce spoke the name 'Charles,' his tone turned noticeably colder. Over the last few days, John had been whisper-campaigning in Bruce's ear. In John's version of the story, Charles Xavier wasn't a saintly educator; he was a strategic manipulator who wanted to turn the Hulk into a green-skinned deterrent for his school.
Bruce wasn't a fool. He had replayed his previous conversations with the Professor in his head. 'We are the same, Bruce,' Charles had said. 'We must unite.' To a man who had been hunted by the military his whole life, those words now sounded less like an offer of friendship and more like a recruitment pitch for a private army.
Compared to Huang Wen—who had literally just handed him a way to find his own soul without asking for anything in return—Charles looked like a corporate headhunter.
"Don't judge the Professor too harshly, but don't trust him blindly either," Huang Wen said, sensing the shift in Bruce's heart. "Everyone has an agenda. Mine just happens to involve seeing my students stand on their own two feet. And that includes the Hulk. You might not realize it, Bruce, but your emotions act as a filter for his. If you hate someone, he hates them. If you love someone... well, look at Betty Ross."
Bruce froze. The name hit him like a physical blow. "How... how do you know about Betty? I haven't told anyone here about her. Not even Logan."
Huang Wen just smiled, that annoying, all-knowing smile that made him seem a thousand years old. "I know Wolverine's past, and I know yours. I don't need to 'pry,' Bruce. It's written in the ripples of your energy. I'm not here to judge your history; I'm here to give you a future."
He stood up, his silhouette framed by the sunlight streaming into the gym. "I want to get you to a place where you don't have to hide in the shadows or live in a cabin in the woods. I want you to walk in the sunlight. And that starts with the Hulk learning that he's a warrior, not a monster. If he can control his hands, you can hold Betty's again. It's that simple."
'Walking in the sunlight.'
The words echoed in Bruce's mind. The image of Betty—not as a memory, but as a person he could actually touch without fear of killing her—was the ultimate bait. His heart began to hammer against his ribs. The excitement, the hope, and the sheer longing triggered the very thing he usually fought against.
"Teacher... if you're serious... then let's do it," Bruce said, his voice dropping an octave, becoming gravelly. His skin began to take on a sickly emerald hue. "I'll bring him out. Right now!"
"ROAR!"
The gym floor cracked under the sudden weight of a massive, green foot. Bruce Banner was gone, and in his place stood the jade giant, his massive chest heaving as he stared down the 'tiny human' who dared to claim he could teach a god.