Mysteries On Marvel

A hand suddenly emerged from the darkness, grabbing Bruce Banner, who had reverted to his human form, and pulling him into the shadows.

"Who?!"

Bruce's heart seized in shock, and in the dim underground parking lot, his skin began to glow with a faint green hue, a telltale sign of the Hulk trying to surface.

"Doctor, stay calm. Control your emotions. I'm here to get you out of here…"

"Of course, if you'd rather return to the military and become one of their test subjects—helping them create more monsters like Abomination—I can leave right now…"

"The choice is entirely yours."

Just as Bruce was about to transform, a hoarse voice echoed from the shadows of the underground garage.

At the same time—

Bruce finally caught sight of the figure in the dim lighting.

A pale, sickly face, as though deprived of sunlight for far too long.

But more striking than the unhealthy complexion—was the missing left arm.

Seeing that the stranger was a cripple, Bruce's guard lowered significantly.

The green glow beneath his skin gradually faded away.

"Even in my weakest form, I should be stronger than a man missing an arm, right?"

Unaware that he was standing before Bucky Barnes, Bruce instinctively thought to himself.

This small bit of self-reassurance helped him regain his composure.

After a few deep breaths, Bruce replayed Bucky's words in his mind, his emotions stirring.

Bruce hated the idea of returning to the military. He had been running from them for years to avoid becoming their lab rat.

And after witnessing what they had done tonight—after seeing Abomination unleashed upon New York, causing destruction and killing innocent people—Bruce's disgust toward them only grew stronger.

Without hesitation, he said, "No. I don't want to go back to the military. There are already two uncontrollable monsters—Hulk and Abomination. I won't help them create more."

Even though Bruce had made his stance clear, he wasn't foolish enough to fully trust the stranger.

Shrugging off Bucky's grip, he eyed him warily.

"I don't want to be the military's experiment… but I don't want to be someone else's tool either. Tell me—who do you work for? And what do they want from me?"

Bucky smirked.

"You've already met my employer."

Bruce frowned. "What?"

"Unlike the military, my boss values your intelligence, Doctor."

"We have medicines—formulas capable of changing the world. But due to material limitations and production issues, we can't mass-produce them."

"My boss wants your help in refining the formulas—finding alternatives, simplifying their production. That's all."

Then Bucky's voice turned amused.

"And in return? My boss can help you control—or even seal away—the big guy inside you."

Bruce's eyes widened slightly.

"He can do that?"

"Of course. With my boss's help, at the very least, you wouldn't have to worry about transforming into the Hulk… during certain intimate moments."

Bucky smirked.

"Sorry, that's exactly how my boss phrased it. Not trying to be rude."

He shrugged, as if to say, "Not my fault."

Bruce stiffened.

The way Bucky phrased it was crude—but it struck a nerve.

Ever since the Gamma Radiation accident, Bruce's life had become a living nightmare.

He had spent years in hiding, always on edge, fearing that a single moment of anger or excitement could trigger the Hulk.

Even recently, when he had tried to reconnect with Betty, things had nearly gone wrong.

He barely managed to suppress the transformation.

It left him feeling utterly helpless.

For years, he had been forced to live like a monk—constantly restraining himself, avoiding strong emotions, and living in self-imposed exile.

The stress was unbearable.

If this so-called boss could truly help him gain control over the Hulk, then…

Maybe it was worth considering.

Cough… cough…

No, that's not what I meant.

If this mysterious employer could actually seal the Hulk, then working for them—temporarily—might not be such a bad idea.

At worst, if things went south, Bruce could always escape using the Hulk's power.

At that moment—

Bucky's ears twitched, and he immediately turned toward the entrance of the underground garage, his expression sharpening.

From outside—

The sound of boots marching and armored vehicle engines rumbled in the distance.

The military was closing in.

"Doctor, you need to decide—now."

Bruce might not have superhuman senses like Bucky, but even he could now hear the sounds of approaching soldiers.

The noise was like the final straw.

Taking a deep breath—

Bruce clenched his fists and said, "Fine. You convinced me. Just tell me how we're getting out of here. And don't tell me I need to fight my way through the military—I've had enough battles for one night."

Bucky chuckled.

"Of course not. Just follow me. I'll get us out of here—without a fight."

With that, Bucky turned and walked ahead, leading the way.

As he did, a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

So this is the power of the Instigator.

Not bad.

The truth was—

From the moment he appeared, Bucky had been using the abilities of the Instigator to subtly influence Bruce's thoughts.

Without it, convincing a paranoid scientist like Bruce Banner to trust him wouldn't have been this easy.

Still, he had to give credit to the military—their perfectly-timed arrival had helped seal the deal.

Bruce hesitated for a moment—

But as the footsteps of soldiers grew louder, he quickly shoved his doubts aside and followed Bucky into the shadows.

Guided by Bucky, the two slipped into a partially-sealed maintenance tunnel, emerging into an abandoned subway line.

From there, they entered New York's massive underground transit system—

Successfully evading the federal forces hunting them.

Elsewhere…

"You lost him?"

"You useless fools! Are you all incompetent?!"

In the underground garage, General Ross erupted in fury as his men reported their failure.

A high-ranking colonel, one of Ross's trusted subordinates, let out a bitter smile.

"General, with all due respect, this isn't entirely their fault. New York's subway system is too complex—we don't have enough manpower to search every tunnel. Losing Banner was inevitable."

Then, hesitating for a moment, he leaned in and whispered:

"Besides… maybe this isn't a bad thing."

Ross's glare was ice-cold.

The colonel gulped, but continued, "Even if we did find Banner, what could our men do? We all know their weapons wouldn't stand a chance against the Hulk."

"Sir, our troops have already suffered massive casualties tonight. Morale is at an all-time low… they're in no condition for another fight."

Ross stared at him for a long, silent moment.

Under his icy gaze, the colonel broke into a nervous sweat.

If this were wartime, Ross would have shot him for such defeatist talk.

But looking around—

At his exhausted, demoralized soldiers, still shaken from the horrors they had faced tonight—

Ross let out a long sigh.

"Fine. Call them back."

With Hulk gone, there were other problems to deal with.

...

Meanwhile—

Changing into a fresh outfit, Eren blended into the crowd, leaving Harlem's ruins behind.

As he walked—

His gaze drifted to the praying survivors, thanking a god that hadn't saved them.

He smirked.

"You're praying to the wrong person."

But then, that smirk slowly faded.

Would he be any different, if he lacked power?

And if that fateful 'Snap' came—could he truly escape it?

Eren moved steadily through the crowd, his eyes sweeping across the devastated remains of Harlem.

The air still carried the stench of blood and decay.

Countless skeletons littered the streets—bodies devoured completely by the Writhing Swarm.

Among the survivors, some were muttering prayers, thanking a god that had not answered them.

Eren's lips curled into a faint, mocking smile.

"They're praying to the wrong person."

But as he continued walking, that amusement faded.

The despair on their faces… the fear in their eyes…

How many of them even understood what had truly happened tonight?

They didn't know why their peaceful lives had suddenly turned into a nightmare.

They didn't know why two monsters had descended from the sky, leveling buildings as they fought.

They didn't know why the Writhing Swarm had suddenly appeared, consuming their homes, their loved ones.

And most of all—

They didn't know what they had truly witnessed tonight.

A projection of an evil god, staring down at them from the skies.

An angel descending like a figure from myth, performing miracles before their eyes.

To these ordinary people, tonight was nothing but chaos.

And in their helplessness, they turned to prayers—begging for salvation.

Because that was all they could do.

For a brief moment, Eren felt a strange sensation—

A suffocating sense of inevitability.

If he had been just an ordinary man, lacking power, wouldn't he have been just like them?

Wouldn't he, too, have been powerless in the face of fate?

Wouldn't he, too, have been forced to kneel and pray, hoping for some invisible force to save him?

"And if the Snap really happens one day… will I be able to avoid it?"

Eren clenched his fists.

If he wasn't strong enough—

If he was turned to dust in an instant—

Then the "him" that returned five years later… would he still be the same person?

Could a man who had ceased to exist for five years truly call himself the same person upon return?

And as a traveler from another world, someone who wasn't even supposed to exist in this universe—

Would he even be brought back at all?

(End of Chapter)

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