Chapter 64

  Arc 5 - Ch 17: The Hulk

  Date: Friday, June 3, 2011.

  Location: Culver Uy, Willowdale, Virginia

  The sun cast a warm, golden light across the Culver Uy campus. It was the kind of se that seemed to belong on a postcard or orientation flyer; with grand historic buildings bathed in the soft glow of the fading day. The air was filled with the gentle buzz of versation and ughter, as students made their way along the tree-lined paths and across the manicured wns.

  Among the students, Natasha Romanoff blended in seamlessly. She had once again taken on the identity of Natalie Rushman, this time as a senior biology major. Her fiery red hair had beeoned down to a subtle auburn. She hid her eyes behind a pair of chigsses and wore a simple yet stylish outfit; a fitted bzer over a soft, cream-colored blouse, paired with dark jeans and fortable shoes. To the casual observer, she was just audent making her way across campus. But beh the facade of the unassuming college senior, Natasha's mind was sharp and focused, attuo the slightest hint of danger or the face she sought. Every detail of her surroundings, every passing versation, and fleeting gnce, was cataloged and assessed with a tactical precision born of years of training and experience.

  The students around her were immersed in their own worlds. They chattered about how the summer semester was going and the test campus gossip, their ughter and groans mingling with the distant sounds of traffid birdsong.

  Natalie's presence barely registered in their minds as she slipped past, just another fa the crowd. Her jourook her past the bustling studeer, its rge, gss-walled atrium filled with the chatter of voices and the k of cutlery. She passed the quiet, ivy-covered library and the lively quad where groups of students lounged on the grass, their books and ptops spread out before them. Her destination was one of the uy's research buildings, a nondescript structure tucked away at the edge of the campus. To most, it was just another academic facility where graduate students and faculty poured over data and ducted experiments. But Natasha khat inside, groundbreaking and potentially dangerous research was being ducted; the kind of work that could ge the world... for better or ill.

  As she he building, Natasha's pace slowed, her observation being more focused and iional. But everything seemed normal.

  Ihe halls were quiet. The soft hum of the ventition system was the only sound. She passed bs and offices, nodding politely at the few lingering students and staff members. Her cover story was she was here to collee research papers for a professor.

  But Natalie's true objective was infinitely more dangerous.

  Suddenly, a crash from outside shattered the calm. Natasha's instincts, honed by years of espionage and bat, kicked in immediately. She rushed to the window, sing the unfolding se with a sharp, assessing gaze.

  Through the gss, she saw a man sprinting across the open field of the campus, his movements frantid desperate. He was being pursued, not by campus security or local w enfort, but by soldiers in full tactical gear. Humvees rumbled onto the se, their engines growling as they surrouhe field.

  Natasha wasted no time. She turned away from the window and dashed down the hallway, her mind already w through the possible sarios. She needed a better vantage point.

  As Natasha reached the stairwell, she began to asd, taking the steps two at a time as she aimed for the upper floors of the building. From there, she would have a clearer view of the field and the surrounding area, and a better ce to assess the situation aermine her move. Every sed ted, and her mind was already rag ahead.

  As she reached the top floor, Natasha could hear the distant sounds of orders being shouted and the hum of vehicle engines. She approached a window that overlooked the field, her eyes narrowing as she took in the se below.

  The man was still running. The troops' ons trained on him but their fingers held carefully away from the triggers. It was clear that they wao take him alive, but for urpose?

  From her elevated position, Natasha could see the armed forces were trying to corral the man and cut off his escape routes. It was a well-executed maneuver, but the man proved to be a more elusive target than they had anticipated. Her sharp eyes suddenly widened in reition.

  The man being pursued was Bruce Banner. As she suspected, the military's target was the same as her own.

  Banner, in a moment of desperate improvisation, veered towards the uy's library. A slight shake of Natasha's head betrayed her thoughts. The library's limited exits and sprawling, byrinthierior, oor choice. It was a trap of Banner's own making, and she k was only a matter of time before the soldiers caught up to him.

  Miicked by, then as expected, Banner reappeared, this time in the breezeway between two of the uy's buildings.

  The military's methodical pursuit allowed them to anticipate his path and cut him off. Troops poured into position, blog the doors on both sides of the breezeway, effectively trapping Banner in the suspended hallway. It was a tactical move, expertly executed, and Natasha couldn't help but admire the soldiers' efficy. The situatioed rapidly as the troops fired gas isters through the gss of the breezeway. Thioxious smoke quickly filled the enclosed space, obsg Natasha's view and making it difficult to see what was happening inside. She watched as Banner, in a futile attempt to protect himself, peeled off his shirt and covered his face. His movements grew increasingly frantid erratic as the gas began to take effect.

  Then, a sudden otion drew Natasha's attention. A woman broke away from the line of soldiers and desperately ran for the breezeway. She mao elbow one of the troops in the face, sending him reeling backward, but her attempt to reach Banner was short-lived. A sed soldier grabbed her and pulled her back. Banner pressed up against the gss of the breezeway and watched the se unfold with a look of abject horror on his face. The sight of the woman being apprehended seemed ter something deep within him, a visceral rea that Natasha could see even from her distant vantage point.

  And then, in a moment that seemed to stretch out iernity, Banner was engulfed by the gas, his figure disappearing from view as the thick, choking smoke filled the breezeway. Natasha held her breath as she waited for the smoke to clear, for some sign of what had happeo the man she had beeo observe.

  For a brief, eerie moment, a heavy silence desded upon the se, the tension palpable even to Natasha, who remained a silent observer from her vantage point high above.

  Suddenly, the stillness was shattered as Banner's hand reappeared, smag against the gss of the breezeway with such tremendous force that the surface cracked in a spiderweb pattern, the lines of fracture spreading outward like the threads of a twisted tapestry. His hand was undergoing a horrifying transformation, the muscles bulging and ripplih the skin as it grew rger and more powerful with each passing sed. Before Natasha's disbelieving eyes, Banner's silhouette began to shift and morph, and his body expahe once small, unassuming man was rapidly being something else entirely, a monstrous, muscle-bound figure that dwarfed any man Natasha had ever entered.

  The Hulk, for that was the only hat could describe the creature that now stood in Banner's pce, let out a roar of pure, unbridled rage. With a dispy of raw, terrifying power, he smmed his massive hands against the breezeway, shattering gss, metal, and crete, as if they were nothing more than flimsy paper.

  Debris rained down on the ground below, a deadly hail of jagged shards and twisted metal that sent the soldiers scattering for cover. One unlucky individual, too slow to react, was clipped by a falling piece of rubble, crumpling to the ground in a lifeless heap.

  Natasha realized, with a sinking feeling i of her stomach, that the man was likely dead, his life snuffed out in an instant by the Hulk's untrolled fury. The gravity of the situation hit her like a punch to the gut. Banner was no longer just a potential threat, but a force of nature, a cataclysmic event given humanoid form. The chaos he could unleash, the destru he could wreak, was unparalleled, and she knew with a cold certainty that the military's attempts to tain him would be futile and dangerous.

  Retrieving her phone from her pocket, her fingers danced across the s, dialing Director Fury's number even as her eyes remained locked on the unfolding pandemonium below. As the ph, Natasha watched the Hulk burst out of the shattered remains of the breezeway with a powerful leap.

  Fury's voice, calm yet tinged with an undercurrent of , crackled through the phone's speaker. "Romanoff, talk to me. What's the situation?"

  Natasha's tone remaieady despite the extraordinary se pying out before her. She wasted no time in delivering her report. "Sir, it's Banner. He's transformed. The Hulk is loose on Culver Uy's campus."

  There was a brief pause oher end of the line as if Fury was taking a moment to process the gravity of her words. "What's the status on the ground?" he asked, his voice tight with barely tained urgency.

  Her eyes never leaving the Hulk's rampaging form, responded with cool, ical detat. "The military's engaged him. They're firing everything they have, but it's not enough. It's barely slowing him down."

  As if to punctuate her words, a hail of gunfire erupted from the soldiers' ons, the bullets pinging harmlessly off the Hulk's imperable green skin like raindrops on a roof. The creature roared in irritation, his rage seemed to grow with each futile attempt t him down.

  "Do not let Ross take Banner. Not dead, not alive. We 't risk it."

  "Uood, sir. I'll do what I ." Potential strategies and tingencies passed through Natasha's thoughts. But what could she possibly do?

  Even as they spoke, the situation on the ground was esg, the military's desperate attempts to subdue the Hulk only served to fuel his fury. A Humvee stormed towards the rampaging giant, its mounted .50-caliber mae gun spitting out a stream of bullets that would have torn a lesser being to shreds.

  With a speed that belied his enormous size, Hulk charged towards the vehicle, his shoulder smming into its armored side with the force of a runaway train causing the Humvee to topple over like a child's toy.

  Fury voiced, "Be careful, Romanoff. The Hulk is uable. I know it's a big ask, but we need Banner. Alive."

  Natasha replied, "I know." Her gaze never wavered from the se of destru unfolding below, even as she ehe call.

  Seemingly impervious to the military's increasingly desperate attempts t him down, Hulk tinued his rampage across the campus grounds. Another Humvee charged towards the green behemoth, i on ramming him head-on in a st-ditch effort.

  But it was a mere annoyao the Hulk's unstoppable might. With a casual stomp of his foot, he brought the vehicle to a bone-jarring halt, its front end crumpling like tin foil beh the immense pressure. Then, with a dispy of strength, the Hulk lifted the Humvee above his head as easily as a child might lift a toy, hurling it with a roar of fury towards a nearby artist's sculpture of twisted metal and sharp ahe impact was devastating, the Humvee smmed into the sculpture with a deafening crash that sent shards of metal and debris flying in all dires. But the Hulk wasn't finished. With a series of earth-shaking blows, he smmed the ruined vehicle against the sculpture repeatedly.

  As if that wasn't enough, the Hulk then reached into the wreckage of the Humvee. His massive hand closed around the engine blod with a toss, he hurled the k of maery towards another approag vehicle. The improvised projectile struck with the force of a small meteor. The targeted Humvee was sent flying backward, its armored frame crumpling like paper as it smmed into yet another vehicle behind it. The resulting explosion was a ball of fire and smoke that ed both Humvees in a hellish inferno of twisted metal and burning fuel.

  Watg the destru se py out before her, Natasha couldn't help but be reminded of Tyson's harrowing tale. His story of single-handedly fighting off an army of soldiers during an invasion of his school. Unbeknownst to Tyson, Natasha's clearance level had allowed her to acquire a copy of the footage from the on Plus program. Watg his one-man stand against the invaders had been remarkable. But as she watched the Hulk tear through the military's defenses like they were made of tissue paper, Natasha couldn't help but draw a trast between Tyson's trolled, purposeful use of his powers and the Hulk's mindless, urained destru. Where Tyson had fought with a clear goal in mind, the Hulk seemed driven only by blind, all-ing rage. It was a force of nature that cared nothing for the lives it destroyed in its wake.

  Natasha was left grappling with the philosophical implications of powers. Tyson, for all his incredible abilities, had wielded his strength with a sense of responsibility, a knowledge of the weight that came with the gift of power. But the Hulk... the Hulk was a differe entirely, a creature of pure, primal fury that knew nothing of sequenoral siderations. As Natasha watched him rampage across the campus, leaving a trail of destru ah in his wake, she couldn't help but wonder…

  Which was worse?

  The man who itted atrocities with full knowledge of his as, who bore the weight of his choices on his soul? Or the being who destroyed without thought or care, who existed only in the moment e and fury, unaware of the lives he shattered in his path?

  It was a question without an easy answer. But for now, she had a job to do, and a mission to plete.

  The oranquil campus transformed into a war zone. Amidst the swirling dust and debris, a lone soldier bravely advaowards the Hulk, drawing Natasha's attention. The soldier stood out, his purposeful movements trasted the activity surrounding him. The soldier was armed with a grenade uncher. He raised the uncher and began firing directly at the Hulk, the grenades arg through the air and exploding against the creature's green skin in bursts of fme and smoke.

  The Hulk, enraged by the assault, responded with a dispy of primal ing. His massive hands tore into the wreckage of a destroyed Humvee, ripping away the reinforced doors and using them into makeshift shields. The impromptu defenses were crude but effective, allowing the Hulk to weather the barrage of grenades as he tinued his relentless advance. Uerred, the soldier closed the distaween himself and the Hulk with a fearlesshat bordered reckless. As he he t figure, the soldier made a bold, almost suicidal move. With a powerful leap, he used one of the Hulk's makeshift shields as a springboard, vaulting over the massive green form. Landing atop the decorative sculpture, he dreistol from his belt and fired at the Hulk's head from near-point-bnk range. But the bullets sparked off the creature's imperable skin like fireworks.

  Natasha watched the unfolding frontation with narrowed eyes, her trained gaze taking in every detail of the soldier's movements. As the Hulk swung one of his makeshift shields in a retaliatory strike, the soldier reacted with acrobatic prowess that left her momentarily stunned. With a graceful somersault, the soldier unched himself over the Hulk's massive arm, twisting in midair to tinue firing his pistol even as he evaded the crushing blow. Each a flowed seamlessly into the with a grace that spoke of superhuman agility.

  As the Hulk unleashed a furious barrage of attacks, swinging his metal sbs with a force that could have leveled buildings, the soldier danced around the blows with ease that seemed almost chraphed. He ducked and rolled, each evasioed with a split-sed precision that left no room for error. The soldier narrowly avoided each of the Hulk's powerful strikes, his speed and agility keeping him just out of reach of the behemoth's grasp.

  Natasha couldn't help but be impressed by the soldier's extraordinary abilities. His bat skills were exceptional, surpassing those of the most highly trained operatives she had entered. Who was this mysterious figure, and what secret training or enhas had granted him sucredible abilities?

  Suddenly, the soldier dispyed another feat that pushed the boundaries of human capability. With the Hulk hot on his heels, the soldier took off at a sprint, his speed far surpassing that of any normal person. His feet barely seemed to touch the ground as he raced across the open field, leaving the Hulk behind momentarily with his ued burst of speed.

  But the Hulk quickly recovered. With a bellow, the green giant lowered his head and charged after the fleeing soldier, closing the distaween them with terrifying speed.

  Just as it seemed that the soldier might not be fast enough to stay ahead of the Hulk's pursuit, two more Humvees roared onto the se, each vehicle equipped with strange traptions resembling satellite dishes mounted on its roof. The soldier he point where the two Humvees had taken up position. He unched into the air with a leap that defied gravity. But at the apex of his jump, the Humvees' mounted devices sprang to life. A pair of focused, high-iy sonic beams erupted from the dish-like structures; invisible energy cut through the air with a pierg, almost unbearable shriek.

  The effe the soldier was immediate aating. Caught in the crossfire of the twin sonic bsts, his body was violently thrown off course, his trajectory was altered by the force of the energy smming into him. He hit the ground hard, clutg at his head, his face torted in a mask of agony. The Hulk, too, was not spared the effects of the sonic assault. As the powerful waves of energy washed over his massive form, he dropped his makeshift shields, the metal sbs cttering to the ground as he fell to his knees, his hands pressed against his ears in a futile attempt to block out the excruciating sound. The soninons, it seemed, had found a weakness in the Hulk's otherwise imperable defenses, subduing him in a way that physical force alone could not.

  Through the disorienting pain of the sonic attack, the Hulk's gaze found the woman from earlier, the one who had attempted to reach the breezeway during the initial frontation. Her arms were pinned behind her back as she struggled against the soldiers restraining her. Despite his suffering, the Hulk's attention was drawn to her, a flicker nition sparking in his rage-filled eyes.

  With a thunderous roar, the Hulk rose, his massive form t over the battlefield. He recimed his makeshift shields. However, as he lifted the impromptu defehe Hulk realized the futility of the shields against the soninons. He hurled one of the metal sbs with incredible force, his muscles ripplih his green skin as he put every ounce of his strength behind the throw. The makeshift projectile hurtled through the air, spinning end over end before smming into one of the Humvees with a catastrophic impact. The vehicle erupted in a fiery explosion, the bst wave rippling outward and engulfing the surrounding area in fmes and debris. The Hulk leaped towards the sed Humvee, his massive form arg like a greeeor. He crashed down upon the sonierator with the force of a falling mountain, his immense weight crushing both the devid the vehicle beh him, abruptly ending the sonic assault that had brought him to his knees mere moments before.

  As the dust and debris settled around the Hulk's t form, the same soldier who had previously engaged him in bat approached armed with an assault rifle sged from a fallen rade. The soldier opened fire in staccato bursts. But the Hulk blocked the bullets with his remaining shield, the metal sparking and ringing with each impact. Then, in a move that caught everyone off guard, the soldier walked up to the Hulk with fident steps, as though approag a familiar acquaintahe soldier's lips moved, f words that Natasha was too far away to hear.

  Whatever the soldier's iion, the Hulk's response was swift and brutal. With a powerful front kick, he sent the soldier hurtling through the air like a rag doll, his body twisting and tumbling as he flew. The man's trajectory ended abruptly as he collided with a nearby tree, his form crumpling upon impact.

  This act of aggression by the Hulk seemed to be the breaking point for the military personnel, who began to retreat in a chaotic, disanized fashion. Soldiers scrambled for cover, abandoning their positions and equipment as they fled from the unstoppable force of nature that had so thhly decimated their ranks.

  The reviously restrained by the soldiers, broke free. Her captors were too preoccupied with their survival to hold her. She approached the Hulk as if he were the only thing that mattered.

  As Natasha watched the unfolding se with bated breath, her ears picked up another sound; the distinct whirring of helicopter bdes. Her eyes snapped upward, sing the sky until she spotted the source. The helicopter swept into view, and its Gatling guns, mounted oher side of the fusege, immediately opened fire, unleashing a barrage of high-caliber bullets.

  In a surprising dispy of protectiveness, the Hulk positioned his massive frame between the woman and the ining hail of bullets. His green skin, tough as armor, absorbed the impacts. But the Hulk was not tent to weather the assault. He retaliated with a show of force that left even Natasha stunned. With a roar of defiance, he hurled his remaining makeshift shield at the helicopter, the metal sb spun through the air like a gigantic discus. The impact was devastating. The helicopter was knocked from the sky, plummeting towards the ground. It crashed to the earth in a fiery explosion, the bst wave washing over the Hulk and the woman like a tidal surge of heat and debris. For a moment, the two figures were lost from view, engulfed in the roiling fmes and billowing smoke that rose from the wreckage.

  As if in respoo the tumultuous events, the heavens opened up, releasing a torrential downpour. The rain fell is, the droplets hissing and sizzling as they struck the sm remains of the crashed helicopter.

  A remarkable sight emerged through the dissipating smoke and the curtain of falling rain. The Hulk stood amidst the wreckage unharmed by the fmes and the debris. His massive form was silhouetted against the flickering light of the dying fires. And there, cradled in his arms like a precious treasure, was the woman. Her face pressed against his chest as he held her close, shielding her from the destru that surrouhem. For a moment, the Hulk showed a flicker of tenderness, giving a glimpse of the humanity that still lurked beh the surface of his rage and fury. But the moment was fleeting, and as quickly as it had appeared, the Hulk's softness vanished, repced once more by the animalististincts that drove him. With the woman still held securely in his arms, the Hulk crouched down. And then leaped. His massive form hurtled skyward in a dispy of incredible power. The monstrous bound carried him and his panion far from the battle. The two figures rapidly dwindled into the distance as they soared through the rain-soaked air.

  With a few more mighty leaps, eae c an impossible distahe Hulk disappeared from view.

  Natasha Romanoff took in the devastated ndscape. With a fes on her phone, she ected to Director Fury's secure lihe call clicked through without dey.

  "Romanoff. Report."

  "Banner's gone, sir." Natasha kept her tone crisp and professional, the words clipped. "He evaded capture and fled the area with an unknown civilian."

  A beat of sileretched between them before Fury's asked, "And Ross's troops?"

  "That's where it gets iing. Ross has a soldier in his ranks with abilities far beyond the norm. I'm talking super-soldier strength, agility, bat skills. The whole package."

  "You're telling me Ross has his otain Ameriockoff?" Fury's skepticism alpable, but Natasha could hear the undercurrent of i beh his gruff exterior.

  "That's what it looked like, sir. This soldier ehe Hulk directly and held his own in ways no ordinary human could. He's been enhanced somehow."

  A heavy siletled over the line as Fury digested the information. Finally, he spoke, his words measured and grave. "Ross pying with super-soldier enhas is a wildfire waiting to happen. Keep your eyes on this, Romanoff. I want to know everything about this soldier; who he is, how he fits into Ross's pns."

  "Uood." Natasha's gaze hardened, her mind already spinning with strategies. "The soldier was injured in the fight. I'll gather whatever intel I ."

  — Rogue Rept —

  Date: Saturday, June 4, 2011.

  Location: Four Seasons Downtown, Manhattan, New York

  Tysohrough his suite when he awoke.

  Amora had left.

  The vish rooms seemed strangely empty, the only lingering trace of her was a faiic st that hung in the air like a half-remembered dream. As he moved through the space, his eyes were drawn to the dining table, where a single object stood out on the wood surface.

  Loki's dagger.

  The on that had been plunged into his eye socket during their brutal frontation on the Rainbe. He'd paid the cost for the bde with his near-death experiehat had marked his jourhrough the realm of the gods.

  Tysohed a sigh of relief, taking so the victories he had secured in Asgard. While he'd lost the fight with Loki; Tyson had lifted Mjolnir and with Amora's help, had learned more about his power. However, allowing Odin to remain in the Odinsleep, undisturbed, gave him the greatest sense of aplishment.

  Tyson had a theory that expined Odin's weakeate aual death during Ragnarok. He suspected the Allfather's steady dee began when he postpohe Odio oversee Thor's ation. Shortly afterward, when resg them from Jotunheim Odin seemed drained, only to fall into slumber soon after. Then came the destru of the Rainbe, f Odin to awakeurely. Later, in what will be Tyson's future, he'd jure dark magic to send Thor to Earth during the events of the Avengers. During the Dark Elves' attack, Frigga's death would drain Odin's will to tinue, leading to him moving on to Valhal and freeing He.

  It was an imperfect theory, Tyson admitted, yet it was his best expnation for Odin's death. By saving Thor, and allowing the Allfather to fully recuperate now, Tyson hoped to prolong his life and forestall Ragnarok. Doing so could also dey Thanos from acquiring the Space Stone in the wake of Asgard's destru.

  Tyson headed into the offid opehe desk drawer. He retrieved the backup cellphone he'd had the fht to purchase, plete with a duplicate SIM card. As he powered on the device, a thought struck him. He should get backups of everything. His mind wao his motorcycle. How many times had he found himself sprinting across the city on foot, havi his motorcycle somewhere urievable and forced to rely on his speed? Not that it truly mattered, since he was as fast as the vehicle iy streets and didn't tire, but still...

  The phone chirped to life in his hand, drawing his attention back to the present. Tyson's fingers danced across the s, pulling up the list of missed calls.

  The names fshed across the s like a roll call of the people who mattered most to him. Natasha, Felicia, Jubilee.

  He'd get to those in a moment. Tyson quickly posed a text message to Wilson Fisk.

  'Fisk, let's meet for lunch at House of M. Important matters to discuss.'

  After sending the message, Tyson ordered a vish lunch spread for delivery, seleg a variety of dishes from suct cuts of prime rib to delicate, fky pastries, catering to Fisk's preferences for fine dining. The order ced with one of the most exclusive caterers in lower Manhattan.

  With the meeti and the lunch arraysoled in to wait for Fisk's response. He khat the man known as the Kingpin was a force to be reed with, a figure of immense power and influen the shadowy underworld of New York City. But Tyson also khat he held sway over the man. Months earlier, Tyson had wrestled Felicia from under Fisk's thumb, and sihen, Tyson had been using the man as a hidden backer and subtly maniputing the Kingpin's pns. The crimelord was essentially w for Tyson, though, in Fisk's eyes, they held a mutually beneficial alliance.

  , Tyson decided to call Natasha, his fingers dialing her number as he exited the Four Seasons and stepped into the streets. The familiar sights and sounds of New York washed over him like a f balm, a reminder of the life he was returning to. As he walked towards House of M, the phone pressed to his ear, Tyso a flicker of anticipation stirring in his chest.

  The ph owice, three times before Natasha's voice finally came through the speaker, a mixture of surprise and relief c her toyson? Is that you? Fury told me you'd left the p yesterday. I didn't even know that ossible."

  A warmth spread through his chest at the sound of her voice. "Yeah, it's me," he replied, his toinged with amusement. "I'm ba Earth now. Sorry for not filling you in earlier. But I did warn you that it was aliens."

  Natasha's relief alpable, even through the tinny phone speaker. "I'm just gd you're bad safe, you goof," she said sincerely, "I was worried when Fury told me. Nods... I thought it was a joke when he briefed me."

  "It's real," he firmed, his mind fshing back to the incredible sights and sounds of the realm eternal. "I imagine I'll have to expin what I experienced iail. But what's been happening here? Did I miss anything good?"

  Natasha sighed, the sound heavy with the weight of ret events. "It's been chaotic," she admitted, her voice taking on a more serious tohere was an i at Culver Uy. The military got involved, and it turned into quite the situation."

  A flicker of passed over Tyson's face at her serious tone. "Are you okay?" he asked, a note of worry entering his voice.

  "Thied quickly," Natasha replied evenly, "We're still monit the situation closely. It's all over the news." She paused before adding in the same measured tone, "I'm fine."

  "Are you really fine? Or is this the kind of 'I'm fine' I'd get if I asked my girlfriend if she was okay, and she said she was, but she actually wasn't?"

  Tyson heard the uptiusement in her voice as she replied, "I'm not yirlfriend. So when I say I'm fine, I mean it."

  "I'm gd," he said, the words carrying siy.

  Natasha's tone shifted again, taking on a more businesslike air as she tinued. "After everything that's happened ie Antiguo and at Culver Uy, Fury's calling an agency-wide meeting. With you baow, you might o debrief them about... Well, where you went, I guess."

  Tysohat his experiences in the realm of the gods would be of great io SHIELD.

  "I provide some insight into what happened on Asgard, and I'm curious to hear more about the Culver Uy situation."

  There was a brief pause oher end of the line. "Where are yht now?" she asked.

  "I'm ba New York, heading to House of M," Tyson replied, his gaze sweeping over the familiar tours of the city streets as he walked.

  "Good. I'll be in touch soon," Natasha said.

  Tyson could hear the slight flirtatious edge in her voice. But beh that pyful tohere was a genuine sense of relief.

  "Thanks, Nat," he said with a familiarity that felt natural and intimate. "It's good to be back. I'll see you soon."

  "Take care," Natasha replied, her voice softening with a hint of affe. "And try not to leave the p without at least a text ime."

  Tyson couldn't help but chuckle at her gentle jibe. "Text ime. Got it," he promised.

  — Rogue Rept —

  Wilson Fisk arrived right on time, the seams of his -tailored suit straining to tain the mass of muscle packed beh the fine fabric. The executive meeting room had beeiculously prepared under Felicia's expert dire, not a detail overlooked. A vish spread y waiting, a veritable feast showg both luxury and attention to detail.

  As Fisk settled his imposing bulk into his seat at the table, he was joined by a finance manager whose name eluded Tyson's recolle. Pleasantries bounced between them as everyo situated, the gentle k of silverware on fine a undersg the idle chatter before the real versation began. As the meal progressed unhurriedly, the discussion gradually shifted to weightier matters of business and strategy. Sensing the moment was ripe, Tyson smoothly took the lead, guiding the talk where it o go.

  "Let's start with our financial status," he said, turning his gaze towards Felicia. "How did we fare with the Oscorp and Hammer stoents?"

  Felicia responded, "Your market predis were remarkably accurate," she said, her words carrying a note of genuine respect. "The put options we purchased against Oscorp and Hammer stocks paid off signifitly. Thanks to your fht, Mirage Enterprises, House of M's parent business has increased ih from around 350 million dolrs to its current value of 910 million dolrs."

  The room fell silent for a moment. Wilson Fisk leaned ba his chair. "Rather well done," he ented, "Your knack for predig market trends has proven quite lucrative. It's impressive, to say the least." Tyson ined his head in aowledgment. "So, what brings us here today?" Fisk inquired, his tone shifting to one of practionce. "I appreciate the lunch, but I suspect there's more on the agenda."

  Tyson leaned forward slightly, his elbows ing to rest on the polished surface of the table. "I'm looking to diversify," he said, "Specifically, into the teology sector. I've brought on board a pair of exceptional stists. Their expertise is unparalleled, and I io utilize their skills to their fullest potential."

  Fisk listened ily, his fiapping lightly oable in a rhythmic pattern that seemed to match the ce of his thoughts. After a moment of ption, he responded, "That's a bold move, especially sidering the current ndscape," he said, "But you should be aware, even with the shakeups iech sector and your substantial wealth, peting against giants like Stark, Hammer, or Oscorp won't be a walk in the park. They have deep resources, a solid market presence, and years of teological adva uheir belts. You're up against formidable oppos."

  Tyson aowledged Fisk's insights, "That's precisely why I invited you here, Fisk," he said, his tone veying respect. "Your business a is invaluable. I'm sidering acquiring aing pany, or at least a signifit ownership stake. panies like Trask or Essex Corp e to mind."

  Fisk leaned ba his chair, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully as he sidered Tyson's words. He looked to the finance manager who filled in the gap in Fisk's knowledge. "Essex Corp is very active in bioteology. They have several high-valued pharmaceutical products. Acquiring a stake there, even with your capital, is out of reach." He paused for a moment. "But Trask? That's an iing choice. They had a strong start in the seventies, particurly with military tracts. However, the pany's reputation took a nosedive after its founder was jailed for espiohey've been struggling ever since."

  Fisk worked through the potential risks and rewards of su acquisition but he remained skeptical. "You could potentially acquire a stake in Trask, or even the pany in its ey, given their current state. But the real question is, would it be worth the iment? Their past sounds troubled, and their future does not seem bright."

  He khe acquisition of Trask presented both an opportunity and a risk.

  "Could I acquire Trask ht?" he asked, "What would that entail?"

  The finance manager's words carried the weight of years of experien the business world. "Acquiring the pany is a possibility, but it's a plex process," he began, his voice steady and informative. "First, you'd o iate with the current sharehiven their struggles, they might be open to a buyout, but it won't be straightforward." He paused to emphasize his point. "You'll also have to deal with the legal and financial baggage from their past issues. Due diligence is key here. You'll need a solid team to b through their tracts, patents, pending litigations, and their financial health."

  The man's expnation painted a picture of a challengiure. "Once you've assessed the risks and have a clear uanding of what you're taking on, you'll o make an offer, ohat vihe shareholders that selling is in their best i." He added, "Lastly, sider the iion process. If you acquire Trask, aligning it with your vision and turning it around will require signifit effort, resources, and strategic leadership."

  Tyson listetentively, processing the wealth of information that Fisk's assistant had provided. The plexity of an ht acquisition was daunting, but his mind was already w through the possibilities.

  sidering Fisk's insights and the challenges of taking on Trask in its ey, Tyson proposed a strategy that leveraged Fisk's expertise and resources in a way that could be them both. "I'm not a businessman. What if I acquire Trask and outsource its ma to you, Fisk?" he asked, "Would that be feasible?"

  Fisk regarded Tyson with a long, appraising look as he weighed the proposal. "Outs the ma of Trask to me... It's an iing proposition," he began, his deep baritone voice resonating through the room. "But it's not a decision to be made lightly. Managing a pany like Trask would require a signifit itment, both in terms of time and resources."

  He leaned forward, his massive frame filling the space as he made eye tact with Tyson. "It's not just about steering the pany back to profitability; it's about overhauling its entire operational structure. My involvement would have to be hands-on, especially in the initial stages. We're talking about a plete transformation, from its corporate culture to its market strategy."

  "Also, sider the public perception," he tinued, his voice taking on a note of caution. "My association with Trask would bring a certain level of scrutiny and specution, given my reputation and background. We'd need a solid pn to hahe PR aspect of this transition, to trol the narrative."

  Tyson, upon hearing Fisk's expnation about the challenges and implications of managing Trask, aowledged, "That seems less than ideal," he admitted, his brow furrowing as he sidered the potential plications involved. But Tyson was already w on an alternative approach. "Could you supply the necessary persoo assist in the acquisition of Trask, simir to how you assisted Felicia?" he asked.

  "Yes, I provide the expertise and the team you'll need for this acquisition," Fisk said. "I put together a team to help navigate the plexities of the deal, from due diligeo iations and finalizing the acquisition."

  The sultant apanying Fisk, who'd been rapidly scrolling through information on his cellphone while they spoke, chose that moment to chime in with a crucial piece of financial advice. "From what I find of Trask Industries, I'd estimate their physical assets to be valued around 60 million dolrs, their patents, somewhere around 40 million, and their brand around 15 million. I'd assume the pany has accumuted debt over the decades of inactivity and likely some liabilities as well, say 25 million. You're looking at around 90 to 115 million to acquire the pany plus the acquisition team," he said, "It's a signifit iment, ohat should not be uaken lightly."

  Tyson absorbed this information with a slow nod, his eyes narrowed in ption. He ran the numbers in his head, weighing the costs against the potential bes. Trask Industries was the pany behind the infamous Sentinel program; the robots desigo hunt and elimiants. It was less than Tyson had expected to pay for the pany and its assets; only around a tenth of his total wealth. If that was the cost to gain trol of Trask Industries and prevent the dystopian 'Days of Future Past' oute, then he would gdly pay.

  Additionally, acquiring Trask would give Tyson access to their Sentinels and mutation inhibitor teology. With ownership of the pany, he could redirect their research toward more ethical goals, using the robots and inhibitors to help mutants rather than hunt them. y million was a small price to pay to protect the future of mutant-kind.

  "I uand the costs involved, and I'm prepared to proceed," Tyson said at st.

  With that, the meeting drew to a close, the details of the pn finalized, and the wheels set in motion for the acquisition of Trask Industries. Fisk and his sultant took their leave.

  Tyson had just set in motion a of events that could ge the timeline for the better.

  But for now, there was work to be done, and they wasted no time getting started. They pored over the details of the pn, mapping out the steps that would o be taken once Fisk's administrative staff was transferred over to assist with the acquisition.

  — Rogue Rept —

  The afternoon sun sank lower in the sky when Tyson and Felicia finally allowed themselves a moment of rest. They made their way to the retive peace of the VIP lounge. Felicia stepped behind the bar and grabbed a bottle of whiskey, spshing a few fingers' worths into a pair of crystal tumblers. She handed one gss to Tyson. They raised their gsses and ked them together without a word.

  As they each savored the smooth burn of the alcohol, Tyso out a tented sigh, the tension in his shoulders easing. Their respite was short-lived, however, interrupted by an ued arrival. Natasha strode into the lounge.

  "Ms. Rushman, it's good to see you again," Felicia purred, her voice dripping with honeyed sarcasm. The words were a pointed reminder of Natasha's previous undercover role as their gym teacher. It was a jab, expertly delivered with a smile.

  Natasha's expression remained ral as she replied, "Ms. Hardy."

  Felicia's lips curved up as she sauntered closer, her hips swaying with feline grace. "o be so formal, teach," she teased, her eyes trailing appreciatively over Natasha's figure. "Especially when you look so good in that tight suit."

  The Bck Widow's emerald eyes narrowed, but then rexed, with a smirk she shot back, her voice low and loaded with meaning. "I hear you look good in a catsuit yourself,"

  The air in the room suddenly grew thick with tension. Felicia's easy fidence faltered, her body going rigid as the implications of Natasha's words sank in. She hadn't realized that Natasha knew about her secret identity as the Bck Cat. Though she should have.

  Tyson, lounging at the bar, had been watg the exge with growing i. He noticed the shift in Felicia's demeanor, the way her fiwitched ever so slightly at her sides. With a casual air, he raised his gss of scotd drawled, "Don't worry, Felicia. If she es after you, I'll pay back whatever it was you stole."

  Natasha's attention so Tyson, her eyebrow arg in amusement. "You 't pay off what she stole with mohat we allowed you to steal," she fired back.

  Tyson's easy grin never faltered as he held up his gss in a mog salute. "Not sure what you're talking about," he said, "All my money has beeimately earhrough the gold trade, running a successful theater and art gallery, and through the whims of the stock market."

  Natasha rolled her eyes, the gesture somehow both elegant and exasperated. She took a seat at the bar, her posture a study of trolled rexation.

  Felicia, rec her plided behind the bar. As her nimble fingers selected a bottle of wine, Natasha's keen eyes followed her movements. Felicia poured a generous measure of deep red wio a crystal gss, sliding it across the polished surface of the bar.

  "Your favorite, I believe," Felicia said, her tone softer now, almost ciliatory.

  Natasha's fingers closed around the stem of the gss, raising it slightly. "You've done your homework," she aowledged with approval in her voice.

  "I always do my research before a... job," Felicia replied, the double meaning clear in her words. "But this time it was easy siyson buys so much of the stuff. It seems that he's trying to keep you happy."

  Natasha raised her gss in a small toast, the gesture both a challenge and a truce. "To professional courtesy," she said, her voice tinged with irony.

  Felicia's lips curled into a genuine smile as she ked her own gss against Natasha's. "And to the thrill of the job," she added, her eyes glinting with mischief.

  As they sipped their wihe tension in the room slowly dissipated. Tyson watched from his seat, fasated by the interpy betweewo formidable women. Without a visible movement, he summoned his powers. Copies of himself materialized behind both Natasha and Felicia, their arms draping over the women's shoulders.

  Natasha's body tensed but rexed as her rational mind reized the illusion. Felicia merely arched an eyebrow.

  "Not sure what that was," Tyson said, his voice a mixture of amusement and genuine curiosity, "but you both just became friends, right?"

  Natasha turned her head slightly, green eyes flickering over the illusory arms encirg her shoulders. "'Friend' is such a... fluid cept."

  Felicia chuckled, a low, throaty sound. She leaned back against the illusionary Tyson. "I'm starting tnize a pattern. When there are two women in the room and things get tense, you create illusions for each of us. Seems that it's being yo-to move."

  "But, Natalie's right, darling," she said, "We're more like... frenemies with bes."

  Natasha's eyebrow quirked upward in genuine amusement. "Bes, Felicia? I don't recall agreeing to any... bes."

  "You haven't cuffed me yet, which is a be in one way," Felicia replied, "But the night is young, and I'm very persuasive."

  Tyson's eyes widened. "Wait, are you two actually...?"

  "Actually what, Tyson?" Natasha asked, her tone i but her eyes dang with mirth. "Surely you're not implying anything... untoward?"

  Felicia ughed, the sound light and musical. "Oh, e now, Natasha. We shouldn't tease the poor boy too much. After all, he did bring us together."

  "True," Natasha ceded, raising her wine gss in a mock toast.

  Tyson's brow furrowed, his usual fidence faltering in the face of their banter. "So, are you...?"

  "Are we what, darling?" Felicia asked, her voice a sultry purr. "What are we even Tyson? Friends? Lovers? Partners in crime?"

  Natasha snorted delicately. "Partners in crime... so cliche."

  "Ah, but the w is such a b straint," Felicia tered, her firag the rim of her gss. "Don't tell me you've never... bent the rules a little?"

  Tyson's head swiveled betweewo women, his illusions dissipating as he lost focus. "I... I'm not sure I'm following anymore. Are we talking about us, or you?" he asked pointiween himself and Felicia, then Felicia and Natasha.

  Natasha turo him, her expression softening fraally. "You're so lost. It's probably for the best that you don't think about it too hard, Tyson. Some things are better left... ambiguous."

  Feliodded sagely, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the mischievous twinkle in her eye. "Pusible deniability is a girl's best friend. Well, that and diamonds."

  "I thought cats preferred fish," Natasha quipped, her lips twitg.

  "This cat has refiastes," Felicia retorted, tossiinum-blonde hair over her shoulder.

  Tyson slumped ba his seat, thhly fused. "So, you're not enemies or you're not friends?"

  "Did we say that?" Natasha asked, her voice deceptively mild.

  Felicia ughed, the sound rid full of secrets. "Oh, Tyson. Labels are so restrictive, don't you think? Natasha and I... we have an uanding."

  "An uanding," Natasha echoed, her tone dry but not disagreeing. "That's one way to put it."

  Tyson ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "You two are impossible, you know that?"

  "We 'professionally discreet'," Felicia corrected with a wink.

  Tyson threw up his hands i. "Fine, keep your secrets."

  Natasha shook her head. "Felicia, stop baiting him. Tyson, rex. Whatever is or isn't between us doesn't ge anything for you."

  "Unless, of course, you'd like it to," Felicia added with a suggestive waggle of her eyebrows.

  Tyson's jaw dropped, his mind clearly short-circuiting at the implications. Natasha rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of amusement in her voice as she said, "Now look what you've done, Felicia. I think you broke him."

  Felicia shrugged, uant. "What I say? I have that effe people."

  "What are you even doing here Nat? I didn't know you were ing back to town," Tyson remarked.

  "There's been a ge in pns," she said, her voice crisp and businesslike. "The agency-wide meeting ostponed because you have information on Asgard. I came here as your SHIELD handler."

  There was a moment of silence as Tyson digested this information, his brow furrowing slightly in thought. But before he could respond, Natasha pressed on, her eyes glinting with a hint of excitement.

  "I'm here to recruit you for a mission if you're ied," she said, her words hanging in the air like a tantalizing promise. "Given your unique abilities, your involvement could be invaluable."

  Tyson leaned forward, enthused by the prospect of a new challenge. "What kind of mission are we talking about?" he asked.

  Tyson studied Natasha's face, her pyful demeanor vanishing as her expression turned serious and focused.

  "Observation and intelligehering," she said, her tone all business now.

  "Who's the target?" Tyson asked, intrigued.

  "A stist named Bruce Banner."

  Tyson's mind raced, eg the dots. Bruce Banner - it had to rete to the events at Culver Uy that Natasha had mentioned earlier. Fshes from The Incredible Hulk movie sprang to the forefront of his recolle. Though the film had been poorly received and he hadn't watched it in years before arriving in this world, the highlights remained seared into his memory. Particurly, the monstrous Abomination and the battle that had raged through city streets.

  Natasha gazed at Tyson expetly in the lingering silence, awaiting his response. She wanted his answer.

  "I'm guessing this mission has to do with the aftermath of that campus i you mentioned?" he said.

  Natasha gave a slight nod, her pierg eyes never wavering from his. "An enhanced, like you. But worse. Stronger, more dangerous... deadly. We o gather intel on his activities, whereabouts, and dition. Discreetly."

  Reizing the importance of the mission, he didn't hesitate. "I'm in," he said.

  He turo Felicia, who had been watg the exge with . "We'll catch up in a few days," he assured.

  Felicia's brow furrowed with as she regarded Tyson carefully. "Are you sure this is the right decision?" she asked, a note of apprehension in her voice.

  "I'm pretty good at discreet," Tyson replied fidently.

  Felicia gave him a pointed look. "You fought a giant lizard on a bridge during rush hour," she reminded him.

  Tyson grasped for a justification. "That was oime," he argued weakly.

  Natasha interjected dryly, "Actually, you also fought the Green Goblin on a bridge too."

  "That wasn't during rush hour..." Tyson's voice trailed off mely.

  Felicia fixed him with an intense gaze, her apprehension evident. "If this guy is so deadly, why do you o go? Isn't there someone else?"

  Tyso her gaze steadily. "Yesterday, I fought a god," he stated matter-of-factly.

  Felicia's eyes widened in surprise. "A god?" she asked incredulously.

  "Which god?" Natasha questioned.

  "Loki, the god of mischief," Tyson answered casually, as if battling Norse deities was an everyday occurrence.

  "Did you win?" Felicia asked eagerly.

  "I could have," Tyson cimed fidently.

  Natasha gave him an incredulous look. "That's a no," she deadpanned.

  Tyson shrugged, her firming nor denying Natasha's assertion. His nont response made it clear he had not bested the Asgardian trickster god, but he didn't seem particurly bothered by that fact.

  "I've gotten into more superpowered fights than anyone else around here," he stated matter-of-factly. "That's why I earn the big bucks." He turned on his heel and started walking away, calling casually over his shoulder as he went, "e on, this is what you paid me 350 million for. Time to earn my sary. Everything will be fine, Felicia. Let's get moving, Nat."

  Felicia watched Tyson's retreating figure, worry creasing her brow. She turo Natasha and mouthed silently, "Keep him safe?" Natasha gave Felicia's hand a reassuring squeeze in response.

  With that, Tyson and Natasha made their way to Tyson's motorcycle.

  Natasha climbed onto the back of the bike, her arms ing securely around Tyson's waist as he kick-started the ehe motorcycle roared to life as they pulled away from the curb and merged into the flow of traffic. They headed east, the wind whipping past them as they sped along the FDR Drive. To their left, the t skyscrapers of Manhattan loomed. To their right, the East River stretched out, its waters choppy and dark beh the overcast sky.

  They journeyed northward. Murry Hill, Midtown, the Upper East Side - eaeighborhood flew by, the buildings and streets blending together into a seamless whole. As they approached 135th Street in Harlem, Tyson veered westward, guiding the motorcycle onto St. Nichos Aveh a turn of the handlebars. The streetscape had ged, the t high-rises giving way to a more residential area, with brownstones and apartment buildings lining the sidewalks.

  It was here, amidst the retive calm of the neighborhood, that the presence of the military Humvees became increasingly noticeable. The heavy vehicles, bristling with soldiers and onry, stood out like sore thumbs against the backdrop of everyday life.

  Natasha directed Tyson to park the motorcycle on the sidewalk adjat to St. Nichos Avenue Park, one of the many small parks that dotted Manhattan, breaking up the urban ndscape. She'd chosen this spot iionally. It was close enough to Greyburn College to allow for quick access, but far enough away to avoid drawing uention.

  As they dismouhe bike, Tyson took a moment to survey their surroundings. The park stretched out before them, a narrow strip of nd that ran parallel to the street. It was a barrier of sorts, a buffer between the college and the rest of the city. Two sets of stairs led up into the park itself, another desded into the depths of the 135th Street subway station. Natasha, following his gaze, owards the park stairs.

  "We'll have a better vantage point from up there," she said, "We o get a sense of what's happening at the college."

  Together they climbed the stairs. The park was small, no more than a block wide, but it afforded them a measure of cover and cealment as they made their way to the top of the hill.

  Tyson asked Natasha, "So what was all that between you and Felicia earlier?"

  Natasha's green eyes met his gaze steadily. "You know that SHIELD was you the whole time that I was at Midtown High, and even before that," she respoyson nodded in aowledgment. Natasha tinued, her voice crisp and matter-of-fact, "We knew you were going after a crimelord with another indepe. It didn't take us long to figure out what was happening with Felicia Hardy, particurly since you openly asked her out on a date right in front of me during css, then spilled the details during our sparring session." She paused, assessing his rea befoing on. "Director Fury deemed you a higher priority target thaher Felicia or Wilson Fisk, and decided to stay out of your way and not interfere with your operations, so long as things didn't look like they were turning bad."

  Tyson sidered her words, his expression thoughtful. After a moment, he said, "That's cool and all. I was more talking about the sexual tension."

  Natasha snorted in amusement at Tyson's ent. "You're such a boy," she said.

  Tyson was uerred. "That's not an answer," he responded, still fishing for details.

  Natasha shrugged, unwilling to indulge his juvenile curiosity. "It was just a bit of fun," she said vaguely.

  "You probably don't realize how much I coordih Felicia," Natasha tinued. "She's bee your sedary tact for SHIELD. When I o know something, she's a better source than you are since you don't manage... well, anything."

  It was true. Tyson had little involvement in the day-to-day operations of House of M. He preferred to focus on the big picture, leaving the details to others.

  "Felicia and I likely spend more time together than you do with either of us," Natasha pointed out.

  Tyson waved off her ent, uned. "Business isn't my thing..." he started to say. He stopped walking as her words sank in. "You spend lots of time together?" he asked.

  Tyson stared at her as she tinued walking, "Are you fug with me?" he asked.

  Natasha kept walking, her firming nor denying his suspi.

  As Tyson and Natasha reached the summit, they were greeted by the fading light of suhe sky above them painted in a breathtaking array es, pinks, and purples. The sun sank slowly towards the horizon, casting long shadows across the ndscape and bined with the trees, obscured the view of the college campus below. The elevation of the hill, which seemed to offer a vantage from a distance, fell short pared to the buildings of Greyburn College, which stood on even higher ground.

  Tyson and Natasha's eyes strained against the setting sun to survey the se at the college before them. The military vehicles stationed on the campus stood out among the architecture of the college buildings. However, their current position didn't offer the crity o effectively observe the campus. The trees and the shadows spired to obscure their view, leaving them with a frustratingly inplete picture of the situation on the ground.

  They faced a strategic choice. Either they could circle to the north side of the campus, seeking a better vantage point from which to observe, or they could traverse directly through the campus grounds, relying oh and speed to avoid dete. Both options carried risks, and Natasha weighed them carefully in her mind. Heading north would take preinutes. And there was always the ce they could be exposed to peripheral threats. Oher hand, walking right into the heart of a potentially hostile enviro was a gamble. The campus was crawling with military personnel, each armed and on high alert. A single misstep, a single moment of carelessness, could blow their cover and put the entire mission in jeopardy.

  Natasha turo Tyson with a suggestion that leveraged his unique abilities. " you cloak us with your illusions?" she asked, "It would allow us to move through the campus without beied."

  "Easily," Tyson firmed fidently.

  With a pn iyson closed his eyes, his mind reag out. He subtly weaved a cloak around them that would rehem invisible to any onlookers' perceptions. With his illusions shielding them, the duo cautiously proceeded onto the Greyburn College campus.

  The ter of the campus was a marvel of architectural beauty and tranquility. The cssic stonework of the buildings gave them the impression of modern castles. Eae seemed to exude a sense of history and tradition. At the ter of campus stood a fgpole, its banner flutterily in the breeze.

  But the facade of tranquility was just that. A fragile veneer, being shattered at that very moment by the heavy military presence.

  As they approached the rgest of the college buildings, Tyson heard a sharp intake of breath from Natasha, followed by a low curse. His eyes so the source of her frustration, his body tensing in anticipation of danger.

  Emerging from the building's entrance, were soldiers with their ons at the ready, wheeling out a man on a stretcher. The man's wrists were bound in heavy handcuffs, indig this was no ordinary medical emergeno simple case of a student falling ill or injuring themselves.

  Natasha's words were filled with a mix end resignation. "They captured Banner," she said, her eyes never leaving the se unfolding before them.

  Tyson trated, his enhanced vision zeroing in on the man's face. Even from a distahere was no mistaking the features of Bruce Bahe brilliant stist whose work had iently transformed him into the Hulk.

  Uanding the gravity of the situation, Tyson turo Natasha, his expression serious and focused. "Your mission was to prevent his capture?" he asked.

  Natasha's response was tinged with a hint of frustration, her eyes fshing angrily. "A little te for that," she admitted, her jaw g tightly.

  "It isn't too te," Tyson said, his voice filled with a quiet vi. "I get him out. Say the word."

  Natasha hesitated weighing the risks and implications of what Tyson was suggesting. But in the end, she khat it was the best choice. Banner was too important, too valuable to let fall into the wrong hands.

  "If you get him out without harming the soldiers, do it," she ordered.

  Tyson nodded, his eyes already sing the area for the best approach. He spriowards the group of soldiers esc Banner's stretcher.

  Before he started running, he was already within rao utilize his illusions on the group, but he waited, choosing the right moment for maximum impact. He watched the soldiers carry the stretcher dowairs from the building's entrance. As the soldiers reached ft ground, Tyson saw his opportunity and seized it.

  He activated his illusion, enveloping the soldiers.

  The illusion he employed was delicate, testing his trol and precision. Over the weeks of perf shows for thousands of spectators, Tyson's power had grown, straining him less ao put on a show for such rge numbers. But now he didn't need a big fshy show, he needed a small, simple but detailed distra.

  He focused ily, his mind weaving a tapestry of deception around the soldiers that would bend their perceptions to his will.

  The soldiers, wheeling Banner's stretcher, approached a point on the ground where there was a small hump. As they reached it, the soldiers, in unison, lifted the stretcher slightly to navigate the obstacle.

  Tyson moved quickly, to not miss the window created by his masterpiece of subtlety.

  Iy, there was no hump oh as the soldiers believed. As they raised their hands to navigate the perceived obstacle, they unwittingly released their grip oual stretcher, tinuing to push only the illusion of it toward the awaiting helicopter. The stretcher, along with Banner, remained behind, unattehe soldiers, pletely uyson's illusion, moved forward without it.

  The brilliance of Tyson's illusion y in its intricacy. To an outside observer, the soldiers appeared to be perf a normal and uninterrupted task. But the truth, Banner had been effectively separated from his captors, left in the open where he could be safely extracted without alerting the soldiers to their mistake.

  This feat was a showcase of Tyson's mastery over his powers and his ability to manipute perceptions effectively. The soldiers tiheir march towards the waiting helicopter, blissfully oblivious to the fact that their prisoner was no longer in their custody, a sleight of hand orchestrated by Tyson's skillful manipution.

  Seizing the moment he had so carefully engiyson approached the unguarded Bruce Bahe sound of his footsteps and his appearance remained hidden behind his illusions.

  The only one who could see his approach was Natasha in the distance, and Banner as he approached. "Dr. Banner, I'm Mirage, a local hero, and I'm here to get you away from these soldiers. Please e with me, I'm here to help," he spoke softly to put the stist at ease. The st thing he needed was Banner hulking out.

  Without wasting a moment, Tyson utilized his adamantium cws to slice through Banner's restraints. The heavy material parted as if they were made of paper. The bindings fell away, cttering to the ground soundlessly in a heap of metal aher and freeing Banner from his immediate fines.

  Tyson took in Banner's dition with a critical eye. It was clear the man could barely stand, let alone walk or run. His body trembled with weakness, swaying unsteadily where he stood. Dark circles ringed his eyes and deep lines of exhaustion were etched into his face. Tysoally reviewed the events leading up to this moment, trying to recall what had caused his curreed state. The details escaped him; some nuance of the movie's plot he had not deemed important enough to it to memory. But Tysohis fatigue was only temporary. Soon the cursed stist would tap into his rage, transf into the Hulk. Banner hulking out to protect his love from the Abomination was seared into his mind. The titanic brawl had left quite an impression. For now, though, he was vulnerable, barely able to remain upright. Tyson would o assist him if they were to make their escape. He offered a hand to assist Banner off the stretcher. However, it quickly became apparent that more diretervention was yson hoisted the doctor over his shoulder, taking care not to jostle the injured man any more than necessary. He was light in Tyson's arms. With the doctor securely in his hold, Tyson moved back to where Natasha waited with bated breath.

  As they reached Natasha's position, it was Bruce Banner who broke the silence, his voice weak but filled with a sense ency. "You're with SHIELD?" he asked, looking at the pat the side of Natasha's suit. Natasha gave a simple nod. "They have my blood, lots of it. We o destroy it. It's too dangerous," Banner revealed, his tone ced with palpable .

  Tyson looked to Natasha fuidance. He was a fighter, but when it came ty, tactics, and pnning, he would rely on her expertise. It was clear that Banner's blood could not be allowed to fall into the wrong hands. The sequences of such a sario were too horrible to pte. But what good would it do if they left Bao be recaptured?

  "We o get him to safety, but we 't let the blood fall into the wrong hands," Natasha curred, her voice filled with frustration. The mission had just beore plicated, but there was no question of what o be done.

  "I've got an idea. Banner y low at my pce. I'll call Felicia and have her meet him there. We get Bao a taxi, then e back to secure the blood," Tyson suggested.

  Natasha's expression tightehe gears turning behind her eyes as she weighed the merits of Tyson's pn. "No good options, but that'll work with small adjustments," she agreed, "I'll call for a team here and head into the building to secure the blood. You get Bao the taxi, then join me."

  With their course of a decided Tyson wasted no time. He led Banner off the campus making for the stairs that desded into the park below.

  Behind the Ses

  - Natasha being at Culver Uy art of The Avengers Prelude: Fury’s Big Week, a limited ic series. Those ics are generally sidered , outside of the points where they tradict the films.

  - Much of the numbers from the talk with Fisk I derived from what I could researg military tractors that were acquired or absorbed during the 70-90s. Please five me if it's not an accurate assessment of how big business happens. Like Tyson, I’m not a businessman.

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