Marvel's Strongest Mage

Imperial University.

Those two words flashed on Daniel's phone screen in a text message. He closed it with a blank expression, then silently brought the dinner he had prepared to Betty Ross. Without waiting for a response, he turned away and returned to his own work.

Betty removed her glasses and glanced at Daniel's retreating back. A moment later, she turned back to her laptop and quickly tapped across the keys. The display wasn't full of research data or reports—it was a game interface. Through this online game, she was covertly communicating with someone.

Daniel had been behaving impeccably since arriving. Aside from preparing Betty's breakfast, lunch, and dinner, he mostly buried himself in his own tasks. Sometimes they went an entire day without exchanging more than a single sentence. And strangely enough, Betty didn't mind that silence—on the contrary, it felt... comfortable.

No interference. Quiet companionship. Someone to take care of the details of life while she immersed herself in work. For a scientist like Betty, this arrangement almost bordered on ideal. Perhaps having someone like Daniel nearby wasn't so bad after all.

Marriage might be sacred in theory, even in the United States, but Betty knew the truth behind the tradition. Flings were tolerated before vows were exchanged, but after marriage, public condemnation followed infidelity, and worse, divorce often entangled shared assets and triggered moral clauses in certain contracts. The fallout could be catastrophic.

It was why so many couples simply cohabited for years—even decades—without ever tying the knot.

But the thought passed quickly. Betty snapped her focus back to her screen.

The person she was communicating with was none other than Dr. Bruce Banner. She had chosen this obscure method of contact specifically to avoid detection by her father, General Ross. If the military caught wind of her helping Banner, it could blow everything open.

The truth was, she and Daniel hadn't spoken much these past few days mostly because of her father. If Daniel hadn't warned her, she never would have suspected surveillance had been installed in her home. She'd expected the military to monitor her communications, but planting physical bugs in her house? That was another level.

Looking back, Ross had spent quite a bit of time with her that day. She hadn't noticed any of his men moving through her place—but now it all clicked. He had used the time to distract her while they planted the equipment.

Daniel had figured it out first, which was why he began to minimize contact with her. Betty had followed suit, turning to this secure method of communication with Bruce. As for Bruce, he was now hiding at Imperial College.

Daniel hadn't needed Betty's help to locate Bruce Banner. In a city like New York, it was just a matter of time before an anomaly drew attention. Unlike the slums of Brazil, Bruce couldn't hide so easily here. One hint of irregular energy consumption, or any research activity that deviated from the norm, would immediately trigger alarms across multiple agencies.

Daniel had already deduced Banner's location by scanning which labs had begun drawing large amounts of power, disproportionate to what would be expected from their registered research projects. In a place like New York, there were only a handful of candidates with Bruce's background.

And Daniel suspected General Ross had already started tracing him too. Their teams moved slowly—but not too slowly.

At that moment, deep inside Imperial College, Bruce Banner had just finished exchanging messages with Betty. He turned away from his laptop and faced Dr. Samuel Sterns—also known online as Mr. Blue—an experimental biologist and theorist with a flair for fringe science.

Sterns, or Dr. Stewart as he was known in academia, had been working on experimental cellular modulation. The two had originally connected through a dark web scientific chat room, where researchers discussed projects deemed too dangerous or unethical for traditional channels.

Everyone in those rooms used aliases, and their identities remained anonymous, constantly rotating. Bruce had long conversed with Sterns under the pseudonym "Mr. Green," but this was the first time they were meeting in person. And from what Bruce had seen, Sterns was very much the kind of man who chased radical, boundary-breaking ideas.

Their current plan was simple in theory and suicidal in practice: during Bruce's transformation into the Hulk, inject a toxic serum meant to suppress the alteration in his nucleic acid structure. If it worked, it could halt or even reverse the transformation.

The problem? Dosage.

Too little wouldn't work. Too much might kill Bruce on the spot.

Worse, timing was everything. Injecting it before the transformation could render it inert. Afterward, Hulk might be uncontrollable. The success window was razor-thin.

Sterns' lab was outfitted with state-of-the-art technology—independently funded and equipped beyond what most universities could afford. Located in one of the most expensive parts of New York, the lab was soundproofed, shielded, and secure. The kind of place where controversial science could thrive unnoticed.

Bruce lay strapped to the reinforced bed, bound at every limb—at his own request.

Dr. Sterns initiated the process by extracting large volumes of blood from Bruce's body. Blood loss weakened Hulk transformations, making them slower and less violent. That small delay could be just enough to inject the serum at the right moment.

Then came the electric shock.

"Zzzzt!"

Electrodes slammed against Bruce's temples. His eyes turned green.

He roared.

The transformation was immediate, powerful, and grotesque. Muscles split his skin. Bones cracked and expanded. Restraints strained and snapped as the beast fought to break free.

And just at that critical moment, Sterns jabbed the antidote into his arm.

The result was... miraculous.

The Hulk's rage stumbled. His struggle slowed. His roar faded into groans. The data screens lit up—proof the serum had altered his transformation successfully.

Sterns' gamble had paid off.

Outside the lab, General Ross was watching everything through a live military feed.

"Execute," he commanded.

Moments later, soldiers led by Emil Blonsky stormed the building. They tore through checkpoints, cleared the area, and subdued Bruce—still half-conscious from the serum.

Ross had timed the operation perfectly. This was the weakest Hulk had ever been.

With support from S.H.I.E.L.D., specialized equipment allowed them to breach the reinforced lab, and soon, Bruce Banner was dragged out in chains. Ross's attention was locked entirely on Bruce. He didn't even notice that Blonsky and Dr. Sterns had both remained behind.

Minutes later, chaos erupted.

A monstrous, yellow-green abomination erupted into the streets of New York—towering nearly three meters tall. Its joints jutted like bone spurs. Its head was triangular, lizard-like. It was stronger than Hulk, but devoid of reason or restraint.

The soldiers had lost control.

Inside the lab, researchers in white hazmat suits stormed in. Every guard had either been killed or lured out by the monster. The new arrivals swiftly packed up Bruce's remaining blood samples and dragged away an unconscious Dr. Sterns. No one noticed the faint trickle of green blood running down his temple.

"Down."

Daniel's phone buzzed with a one-word text. He read it, deleted it instantly, then calmly changed clothes.

He walked to the living room and gently shook Betty Ross awake.

"There's something on the news," he said coolly. "A monster is rampaging through Manhattan."

That got her attention.

Betty snapped to life, flipped on the TV, and tuned into CNN. The feed was grainy and distant—shot from behind barricades—but it was enough.

The creature was grotesque: greenish-yellow skin, bone spikes, a hunched back, and no sign of humanity. It tore through cars. Bullets bounced off its skin. One swat of its arm sent a police cruiser flying.

"That's not Bruce!" Betty exclaimed.

Daniel nodded. "This isn't him. Unless... your father had something to do with it."

Betty's blood ran cold.

She knew her father had been overseeing Banner's experiment. If this thing was the result of that project, then it meant General Ross had done something reckless. Again.

"Damn it," she hissed, just as her phone rang.

"Betty," Ross said. "I need Daniel's help."

Stark was unreachable in Los Angeles. S.H.I.E.L.D. was too far away. Ross had only one option left.

Daniel didn't answer. He was already moving.

By the time he and Betty stepped outside, a military helicopter was descending from the sky. General Ross was inside—tense, grim—and standing behind him was Bruce Banner, pale and bruised, but alive.