Marvel's Strongest Mage

The wide street was already in chaos. Countless cars had clogged the entire roadway, their occupants fleeing in panicked swarms, scrambling further and further from the disaster. Gunshots still echoed from somewhere deeper in the city, adding to the nightmarish scene—it looked like the end of the world.

It wasn't surprising. Whenever catastrophe struck in the United States, there was always a faction that took advantage—smashing, looting, setting fires, spreading fear. But right now, the police didn't have the manpower or focus to deal with petty criminals. Not with a monster rampaging through Manhattan.

Far more people were watching the scene unfold on Hollywood Boulevard through their televisions. At this moment, nearly every pair of eyes glued to the screen widened in disbelief.

The monstrous figure—Blonsky, transformed into the Abomination—who just moments ago had been violently wrecking the entire district, was now trapped inside a massive sphere of water. He floated helplessly high above the ground.

This wasn't just a three-meter-tall brute weighing half a ton. This was a powerhouse of destruction—and yet he was suspended mid-air by what seemed to be nothing more than a giant water balloon.

Blonsky's legs flailed, but there was no footing. His massive limbs thrashed uselessly inside the water sphere. No matter how hard he tried to pull himself forward, he was stuck in place. Gravity offered no escape; the water refused to let him go.

Worse, the water inside the sphere wasn't still. It was pressing into him, filtering through his mutated skin, trying to invade him. If he had been anyone else, his internal organs might've been seized by now.

Now, the savage brute looked like a clown. Huge, terrifying, and completely powerless—his grotesque figure trapped, his furious eyes rolling madly. People watching from home laughed nervously, disbelief giving way to cathartic relief.

Even the President of the United States, who had been watching with his Vice President, Secretary of State, Chief of Staff, and military advisors, let out a long, audible breath.

The situation was finally under control.

And it was the military who had responded. That was good for the President's approval ratings. In fact, if played right, this could even boost his numbers.

"Mr. President, is that soldier active duty?" the Secretary of State asked quietly.

But in the tension-choked room, even a whisper might as well be shouted. Everyone looked at the President.

"That's an active Army major," the Secretary of Defense replied quickly before the President could speak. He was one of the few in the room who actually knew Daniel's true identity. Right now, Daniel had stepped up in front of the whole country. He had given the U.S. military a symbolic victory—and if anyone revealed the truth about him, it could spell trouble for them all.

The Secretary of State's question had been loaded. He and the Defense Secretary worked together on paper, but behind the scenes, there was no love lost. Every man here had his own political ambitions.

"It would be better if we could meet him," the Secretary of State added, his tone oozing false warmth. "He should be rewarded. The one who ended this crisis deserves it."

"Yes, he should," the Interior Minister agreed immediately, with a few others echoing the sentiment.

But the President just stared at the screen. The ten-meter-wide water sphere hovered on camera, holding the now-humbled Abomination. The President didn't speak. And slowly, the others fell silent too.

Off to the side, a few generals from the Joint Chiefs of Staff chuckled under their breath.

It wasn't unusual. Anyone familiar with American military politics knew: while the President might be the Commander-in-Chief in title, only a handful of elite forces were truly under his direct command. Most of the real military power lay with the Joint Chiefs.

The Secretary of Defense? A civilian appointee. Even a decorated general had to be retired for five years before he could be considered for the post. His role was procurement, recruitment, logistics—not battle strategy.

So if the man on-screen really was an active-duty soldier, and the Joint Chiefs hadn't been informed, then he wasn't theirs.

He belonged to the President.

And that, more than Blonsky's rampage, was the real threat in the room.

The U.S. military was already the most powerful force on the planet—but some people weren't satisfied. They didn't want a superhero team under military control. They wanted it for themselves. And now the tug-of-war had begun.

Daniel knew none of this. His attention was focused entirely on Blonsky.

Despite being trapped, Blonsky was adapting fast.

He stood firm within the water sphere and suddenly threw a punch, hard enough to spin the currents. Then another. And another.

Each strike sent spiraling vortexes rippling through the water. Gradually, the liquid started resisting Daniel's control.

This wasn't a mindless brute. This was Abomination—an intelligent, calculating monster fueled by rage. And now, Blonsky had stopped treating the water as a barrier. He treated it like an enemy. An enemy he intended to break.

Meanwhile, the hydrants across the street kept pumping water into the massive floating sphere. But the viewers watching noticed something strange: the water sphere wasn't getting larger. It was shrinking.

And the monster inside was growing more focused.

Daniel could feel Blonsky pushing back, but his lips curled into a quiet, mocking smile. It was all still within his control.

None of the spectators could see it, but Daniel wasn't just fighting—he was performing. Putting on a show. This wasn't a real struggle for him, not yet.

Even though his powers had diminished after returning to Earth, his combat experience hadn't. So long as he wasn't facing a cosmic-level threat—someone wielding the Infinity Stones, for example—Daniel still reigned supreme.

Hulk might someday grow powerful enough to challenge him. But Bronski? He was just another pawn.

Still, Daniel's face grew serious. He furrowed his brow as though he was straining, losing control.

Then—with a loud crack— Blonsky broke free.

The water exploded outward, thousands of droplets forming razor-sharp arrows that punched through buildings on both sides of the street. Cars below were riddled like swiss cheese. Civilians screamed. Panic surged again.

Blonsky roared and charged at Daniel mid-air, fist raised.

Daniel didn't flinch. He threw a punch of his own.

The moment his fist extended, the nearby water surged toward him, enveloping his body in a thick aquatic armor. In the blink of an eye, a towering water giant—three meters tall—materialized around him.

The water giant intercepted Blonsky's attack.

Though Blonsky's punch connected, it passed harmlessly through the giant's liquid body. Suddenly, the giant reformed behind him.

Blonsky whirled, confused.

He felt cold. Like something had been stolen from inside him.

He'd felt this once before—when Daniel first intervened. But this time, the sensation was even more pronounced.

"Damn it!" he shouted, more from frustration than pain. He turned and launched a furious barrage of punches and kicks at the giant.

Water splashed everywhere.

But it was useless.

Even when Blonsky managed to tear off an arm or crack a leg, the fire hydrants fed more and more water into the construct, restoring the damage almost instantly. The water giant reformed again and again, invincible.

The two titans clashed in the middle of the street—blow for blow, punch for punch. The entire city watched, mesmerized. So did General Ross and Bruce Banner from the helicopter above.

To Ross's eye, it looked like Daniel had hydrokinesis. But the wand he'd glimpsed in Daniel's hand suggested otherwise.

"Blonsky's finished," Banner muttered.

Ross and Betty turned to him in surprise.

"I don't know if you noticed," Banner said, "but the water giant keeps absorbing more and more water… and it's not getting any bigger. In fact, it's shrinking."

They both looked again—and Banner was right. The giant had started taller than Bronski, but now it was slightly smaller.

Don't underestimate water, Banner thought.

General Ross was a seasoned strategist. Betty was a doctorate-level scientist. They both understood exactly what Banner meant.

Then, with a crash, the water giant's fist met Blonsky's in a thunderous collision.

The shockwave blew out windows, flipped nearby cars, and pinned debris to buildings with concussive force.

But when the dust cleared… the water giant was still standing.

And now, it had Blonsky exactly where it wanted him.