Arc 5 - Ch 18: The Abomination
Chapter 65
Arc 5 - Ch 18: The Abomination
Date: Friday, June 3, 2011.
Location: St. Nicholas Park, West Harlem, Manhattan, New York
As they reached the stairs down into the park, Bruce Banner found himself regaining some of his strength. He was now able to walk steadily on his own without assistance. Together they descended the concrete steps. Once they were out of sight of the campus, Tyson properly introduced himself.
"I'm known as Mirage," Tyson began, hoping to reassure the scientist. "But considering you've been off-grid for a while, Dr. Banner, I doubt you've heard of me." In a gesture of trust, Tyson removed the mask covering his face, revealing his true identity. "My real name's Tyson Smith, and I'm a senior at Midtown High School."
Tyson continued earnestly, "I know we're short on time here, but if you're willing, I'd like to tell you my story." he offered sincerely, attempting to build understanding between them.
Banner looked startled, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "A senior in high school? How in the world did you wind up mixed up in all this?"
Sensing the man's intense curiosity, Tyson replied candidly, "Because, Bruce, I'm special. Like you."
To emphasize his point, he gave a small wave of his hand. Their surroundings instantly transformed. First into a vast desert, then Tyson snapped and it became a sun-drenched beach, followed by another snap and a lush rainforest, before phasing back to the original city park. The rapid, seamless transitions vividly demonstrated Tyson's remarkable abilities.
"Well, not exactly like you," Tyson amended. "But I think you get the idea."
Banner's eyes widened in surprise as he took in the display. "Incredible," he murmured, a note of awe creeping into his voice.
Sensing an opening, Tyson broached a topic he hoped would resonate with the man. "Dr. Banner, are you familiar with Dr. Curt Connors? He was the head of the Department of Genetics, Bioengineering, and Cellular Studies at Oscorp."
Banner nodded thoughtfully. "I never met him personally, but I'm familiar with his work in the field."
Encouraged, Tyson continued his tale. "If you didn't meet him, you might not know Connors was missing an arm. His research into cross-species genetics was entirely motivated by a desire to regrow that lost limb." Tyson paused, letting his words sink in. "A few months back, Connors had a breakthrough and hastily tested the unfinished formula on himself. It worked. He regrew his arm overnight."
Tyson allowed a grim tone to enter his voice. "But there were unforeseen consequences. The formula transformed him into a raging lizard monster and afterward, he went on a destructive rampage through the city."
Tyson held Banner's gaze, allowing the weight of his story to register. He then posed a subtle but pointed question. "Does any of this sound... familiar, Dr. Banner?"
Banner's eyes widened slightly at the question, as Tyson's words stirred a swell of uneasy recognition within him. Though framed as rhetorical, the inquiry probed at his deepest vulnerability; the lack of control over his monstrous alter-ego.
Sensing Banner's dawning comprehension, Tyson pressed on, drawing out the parallels between their plights. "The Lizard is strong enough to toss around cars, but he's not even close to the Hulk's strength. However, in his transformed state, Connors retained his human intellect. The metamorphosis corrupted his mind, fueled his aggression, but did not wholly erase his identity."
Tyson paused, letting his words sink in. Banner's gaze was distant, his jaw tight. Tyson could almost see the scientist visualizing that scenario, his brilliant mind spinning out the implications.
"Now imagine," Tyson continued, "the Hulk unleashed inside a crowded high school, amid throngs of innocent teenagers."
Banner's eyes snapped back into focus, his head shaking slightly in mute horror at the proposed scenario. The notion of the Hulk rampaging unchecked in such a vulnerable environment was anathema to him.
"Unfortunately, that scenario came to pass," Tyson said heavily. "Connors hunted one of the other local heroes, Spider-Man, to his high school, intending to confront him. However, the Lizard did not anticipate I would be there that day." A hard glint entered Tyson's eyes at the memory. "Together, we were able to drive him back."
Tyson delved deeper into the heart of his story. "The parallels in your experience with Connors isn't the only reason I'm telling you this," he said, his gaze steady on Banner as if to ensure the scientist grasped the true purpose. "It's the conclusion that matters most. Instead of turning Connors over to the authorities, I sheltered him. Given the Lizard's rampage, transformed state, and threat to the public, it was unlikely the authorities could provide the necessary resources to cure him. Chances were that he'd either be imprisoned indefinitely or killed."
Tyson's voice carried a resolute yet compassionate tone. "My unique abilities allowed me to hide him from the world. To everyone else, the Lizard escaped the high school after the attack and simply vanished. But in reality, I set Connors up with a fully equipped lab in the lower levels of my building, providing the resources and solitude he needed to work on a cure for himself."
The account Tyson shared with Banner was one of empathy, understanding, and taking action to improve the situation of someone who unwittingly transformed themselves into a monster. This revelation held significance beyond merely protecting another individual with extraordinary abilities; it offered hope and a path to normalcy. Tyson's steadfast gaze and earnest words made it clear he believed Banner, too, deserved such an opportunity.
"I know you've been running a long time, Dr. Banner. Always looking over your shoulder, never trusting anyone. I imagine after escaping the army's clutches, the last thing you want is to fall into SHIELD's hands."
Banner's shoulders tensed ever so slightly at the mention of SHIELD, his eyes darting around the empty park.
Tyson raised a placating hand. "While I do contract work for SHIELD, they allow me a measure of autonomy. I'd like to offer you a safe haven in my building if you'll accept it. At the very least, it will buy you some time before SHIELD catches wind of your presence." Banner's expression remained wary, but Tyson pressed on. "You would have full use of my labs and technology, with Dr. Connors' assistance should you need it. I have millions to fund any equipment or assistance you need. And regarding the Hulk..." Tyson paused, holding Banner's gaze, "Illusions isn't my only ability. I'm uniquely suited to fight the Hulk. I'm not exaggerating when I say that I'm one of the few people on the planet who could possibly match him in raw strength. If you lose control, I'm uniquely equipped to stop you. But I don't want it to come to that. I only want to help you, if you'll let me."
They reached the far side of the park, and Banner slowed, considering Tyson's offer. Behind the caution in his eyes lay a glimmer of temptation at the thought of an equipped lab and a powerful potential ally.
Tyson stepped to the curb and waved down an approaching yellow cab. He retrieved three crisp hundred-dollar bills and held them out to Banner.
"I'm certain you've become quite adept at avoiding detection over the years," Tyson said, "But if you're tired of running, head to the House of M. 68 Lexington Ave. Ask for Felicia Hardy and say I sent you. She'll set you up with a room, no questions asked."
As the taxi pulled up beside them, Tyson grasped the handle and swung the door open for Banner. "I hope to see you again soon, Dr. Banner. But if you opt to disappear instead, I wish you the best of luck," he offered kindly, acknowledging Banner's need for autonomy given his complex predicament.
Banner paused, glancing between Tyson and the open cab door, considering. After a moment, he slid onto the worn back seat.
Tyson watched as the yellow taxi merged into the flow of traffic and disappeared down the street. Though the door was now open, it remained to be seen whether Banner would choose to walk through it. The scientist had two paths before him; seek refuge at the House of M, where Tyson and Dr. Connors could provide research support to help control the Hulk, or leave the city entirely, putting as much distance between himself and Tyson, SHIELD, and the military as possible. Even if he opted to vanish, Tyson knew it would only be a matter of time until the Battle of New York forced Banner's return. For now, simply getting Banner away from the city would prevent the imminent showdown with the Abomination and the catastrophic damage their fight would unleash upon Harlem. Hopefully, Tyson saving him from the military and offering help would put him in the scientist's good graces going forward.
Tyson turned and sprinted back up the hill. He did not know if the Abomination would still emerge with Banner gone. But if it did, Tyson needed to be ready. He'd do what he could to prevent the neighborhood from becoming a war zone. Just as he reached the campus, a cloud of dust and debris erupted from the side of the building they'd captured Banner. Chunks of concrete rained down amidst the haze.
A massive, hulking shape lurched out from the gaping hole in the building's side.
The Abomination.
Tyson's eyes widened at the sight of the grotesque creature. Standing at least ten feet tall, its body was a horrific perversion of the human form, swollen with distorted, bulging muscles. The Abomination's skin was a sickly greenish-gray, stretched taut over its freakish frame. Sharp, uneven teeth filled its snarling maw. Spikes of bone jutted out along its shoulders and spine, completing its terrifying visage. The Abomination barreled down the alley with shocking speed. Each pounding step cracked the concrete below its feet. The rampaging behemoth disappeared from view down the narrow alleyway, leaving crumbled rubble and clouds of settling dust in its wake.
The pungent, earthy stench of the Abomination assaulted Tyson's senses as he leaped into the gaping hole left in the creature's wake. The potent, musky odor clung heavily in the air, impossible to ignore. It was thick with the raw, animalistic funk of an untamed beast, underlaid by the sharp tang of metal. Tyson grimaced reflexively, the overpowering reek nearly taking on a physical presence in the confined space. Yet beneath the Abomination's overwhelming stench, Tyson's heightened senses detected another, more welcome scent; the subtle hints of exotic spices and leather that denoted Natasha's presence. Alarm jolted through him. With the Abomination's capacity for destruction, anyone crossing its path was in mortal peril. Urgency drove Tyson to track Natasha's scent through the maze of debris. Locating her became his sole focus; her safety was paramount, no matter how capable he knew she was.
The trail led Tyson to a laboratory ravaged by the Abomination. His shoulders sagged in relief at the sight of Natasha, unharmed amidst the destruction. The lab was a shambles, with equipment and supplies scattered wildly across the room. His eyes settled upon the slender, pale green-skinned figure standing beside Natasha. Though diminutive in stature, an air of formidable intellect emanated from the man. His head was enlarged and egg-shaped, suggesting a massive brain housed within the smooth, unlined expanse of his high forehead. Small, deep-set eyes conveyed keen intelligence and calculation. Below them, a thin nose and pursed mouth completed the man's distinctive visage.
Tyson hesitated, not wanting to intrude on the scene before him. But concern for Natasha propelled him forward through the debris-strewn laboratory. Though the man posed no obvious threat, he remained wary.
As Tyson drew nearer, Natasha addressed the man, “Dr. Samuel Sterns?”
The man exuded confidence. “I was Dr. Samuel Sterns. But now, I am changed,” he proclaimed, his voice carrying an eerie surety. “My exceptional intellect has been unleashed. I see the future unfolding before me, a future defined by power and influence, with my augmented mind shaping the world.” Sterns paused, his intense gaze boring into Natasha. “This illustrious future begins at this very moment.”
Tyson tensed, ready to act should the peculiar man attempt to harm Natasha. But she showed no fear in the face of Sterns' grandiose claims.
Samuel Sterns' gaze shifted, scrutinizing Natasha with a calculating eye that seemed to peel back the layers of her being. "Assist me in gathering my work and eluding the authorities, and this radiant future will be yours as well, my little Russian darling," Sterns proposed, his words dripping with both enticement and manipulation.
Natasha's face registered a flicker of surprise at Sterns' bold proposition and his casual use of the intimate term of endearment. Undeterred by her reaction, Sterns pressed on eagerly, "The faint traces of your accent have not escaped my notice. They reveal to me that you were born in Stalingrad, do they not?"
His observation demonstrated not only his heightened powers of perception but also his ability to use personal details to attempt to sway others to his grand cause. Sterns' newfound confidence and sense of destiny were palpable in his voice and bearing. His offer was clearly just one part of a larger, more ambitious plan he had devised for himself now that his intellect had been unleashed.
And that fact was not lost on Natasha.
In a moment as swift as it was unexpected, she smoothly pulled out her handgun. With a single practiced motion, she fired, the shot echoing through the ruined lab. The bullet tore through Sterns' kneecap and he collapsed to the floor with a howl, clutching his mangled leg as blood seeped between his fingers.
Tyson raised an eyebrow, surprised by Natasha's swift, ruthless actions. She justified her decision, "He's been transformed, and not for the better. His intellect makes him manipulative and deductive. A dangerous combination." Her piercing gaze shifted to Sterns, writhing in agony on the cold floor. "We can't risk him being out there with his capabilities and intentions. The cleanup crew will take care of him and all of this." She gestured around the ruined lab, indicating that Sterns and all evidence of his work would be handled by SHIELD.
Tyson recognized the logic behind Natasha's calculated actions. Though harsh, she had disabled a potential threat. He approached Sterns, his muscular frame and commanding presence capturing the scientist's attention from his throbbing wound. Sterns met Tyson's distinct mismatched eyes. When Tyson spoke, his voice was backed by his power. "Heed me well. That's my Russian darling you tried to deceive." He jerked his chin towards Natasha. "Do not attempt to manipulate her again. Do not speak beyond answering our questions."
His words were not just a warning, but a command to protect Natasha from further attempts at coercion. Tyson's power and tone allowed no room for anything but complete obedience.
"Now tell me about the thing that caused this destruction," Tyson demanded.
Sterns blinked twice, still reeling from the shock of the gunshot and Tyson's illusion powers. Despite the pain lancing through his leg, Sterns' supreme intellect was evident in his sharp gaze. Tyson could sense that Sterns was partially resistant to his coercion, the scientist's mind too keen to be fully swayed. Regardless, while Tyson's knowledge of Marvel comics was far from extensive, he knew from his meta-knowledge that Sterns had become The Leader. A villain who was the counterpart in intelligence, to what the Hulk was in strength.
Tyson's eyes darted to Natasha quickly. He was prepared to end Sterns if necessary. Leaving an unknown villain to bite him in the ass later was not on his list of things to do. He released his talons with a snikt and held them poised at Sterns' throat, repeating his command, "Tell me. Now."
Compelled by Tyson's uncompromising stance and perhaps realizing he would follow through with his lethal threat, Sterns began to speak. "That soldier came to me seeking power," he said. "He wanted what Banner had. It was evident he had already undergone some chemical modifications to his physiology."
Stern's explanation painted a picture of a man driven by ruthless ambition, willing to take extreme risks in pursuit of power.
"I've done nothing wrong. I warned him of the potential consequences of using Banner's irradiated blood as a mutagen, but he remained adamant. Blonsky gave his informed consent before we proceeded with the procedure," he asserted, his gaze fixed steadily on Tyson and Natasha despite the claws at his throat. His words also revealed Stern's ethical detachment, as a scientist focused more on the relentless pursuit of knowledge with little thought for the moral implications. "Blonsky was well aware there was a chance he would become an Abomination. And yet, I was assaulted with a deadly weapon." His accusation was clearly directed at Natasha, referencing her shooting him in the leg to disable him.
Sterns' self-assured words only hardened Natasha's resolve. She maintained her firm stance, retorting sharply, "Don’t make me shoot you in the other leg." Her tone was like iron. The threat hung heavy in the air between them.
Sterns glanced at the gun still gripped tightly in Natasha's hand. Recognizing the seriousness of her threat, he chose not to continue arguing his supposed innocence.
In the tense silence that followed, the full reality of the threat posed by the Abomination crystallized in Natasha's mind. She knew that this creature, born from Banner's blood and Blonsky's body mutated by a variation of the Super Soldier serum, represented a danger that could not be left unchecked. If Banner, a man of normal physical ability became the Hulk, what would a supersoldier become? It was a volatile combination, a monster created by science without thought for the consequences. Turning to Tyson, she saw a glint of hardened resolve in his eye, indicating his readiness to confront the Abomination. He gave a subtle wink, a gesture of confidence and assurance, but Natasha was immediately apprehensive.
"You can’t go after it," Natasha argued, her voice laced with concern as she stepped closer. "If that thing was made from Banner’s blood, it's far too dangerous. We don't fully understand what we're dealing with."
Tyson understood her fears but responded calmly, "I know the risks. But remember, I’m the one with the best chance of stopping the Abomination. My ability can match its strength." His tone conveyed both reassurance and certainty.
Natasha's breath caught in her throat as the weight of their predicament settled upon her. Her analytical mind raced through scenario after scenario, calculating the potential outcomes and risks associated with each course of action. Allowing the Abomination to rampage unchecked was simply not an option. It could inflict untold damage and casualties in the densely populated city. Yet the thought of Tyson confronting the beast head-on filled her with dread.
As she stood there, Natasha was torn by conflicting impulses. The pragmatic agent in her hesitated to send her partner into the jaws of almost certain danger. But her heart, which had come to care for Tyson as more than just an ally, rebelled at the thought of putting him at such risk. She searched his face, seeing the steadfast determination in his stance coupled with a glimmer of concern in his eyes that betrayed his awareness of the peril he would soon face. Her mind drifted back to a harrowing memory from months earlier. She vividly recalled watching Tyson engage the Lizard in brutal combat. The scene had left an indelible mark on her psyche. Particularly the heart-stopping instant when Tyson was struck by the Lizard's powerful tail and sent crashing violently into a nearby car. She hadn't known about his healing at the time. She had thought for certain that Tyson was dealt a fatal blow. The moment remained etched deeply into her memory. She had felt a sharp pang of failure at that moment, believing that she had utterly let down the brave young man who had shown such incredible courage against the rampaging creature.
Since that fateful day, Natasha's relationship with Tyson gradually evolved. Over time, they had grown closer, and Natasha came to fully comprehend the true extent of Tyson's formidable physical strength and capabilities. But now, as she faced the stark prospect of sending him into battle against the nightmarish Abomination, seeds of doubt crept insidiously into her mind. She wondered, was even Tyson's power a true match for the monstrous creature born of Banner's mutated blood? She knew that she herself was utterly helpless against the Abomination's devastating power, but Tyson was different. His unique abilities gave him a fighting chance, a chance to match the unstoppable creature that lay far beyond her own reach.
After a tense moment that seemed to stretch on infinitely, Natasha's sense of duty won out over her personal worries. With great reluctance, she gave a single nod of consent. "Okay," she said, her voice taut with anxiety. "But please be careful."
Though deeply worried for his safety, she knew the gravity of the situation demanded action. With a heavy heart, she trusted Tyson, hoping it would be enough.
As Tyson turned to depart and confront the Abomination, Natasha's eyes were filled with a complex torrent of powerful emotions. She felt lingering fear for his safety, fragile hope for his success, and above all, a deep sense of faith and trust in his extraordinary abilities.
Meanwhile, Sterns lay prone upon the hard ground, his keen intellect making him a silent but observant witness to the interaction unfolding before him. Despite the pain wracking his body and the disorienting shock of his situation, he closely watched the subtle dynamics between Tyson and Natasha, his razor-sharp mind calmly calculating...
— Rogue Replacement —
Tyson burst out of the building through the gaping hole the Abomination had smashed through mere minutes before. Immediately orienting himself, Tyson spotted the trail of utter devastation the monstrous creature had left in its wake and the musky scent of the monster. Both were unmistakable.
Sprinting down Broadway, Tyson took in the horrific aftermath of the Abomination's rampage. Vehicles of all shapes and sizes were strewn about like discarded toys. Some had been viciously crushed and crumpled nearly beyond recognition, while others burned and smoldered, twisted metal skeletons emitting pillars of greasy black smoke. Storefronts along both sides of the street had been shattered, their contents vomited out onto the road in heaps of broken glass, debris, and merchandise. The urban landscape itself had been savagely rearranged. Streetlights and traffic signals lay bent and snapped like fragile twigs, the concrete, and asphalt underfoot gouged by deep furrows and craters where the Abomination had unleashed its terrible strength. Chunks of brick and masonry from damaged buildings littered the area, forcing Tyson to use his agility to find a path. Despite the destruction, car alarms continued to blare out their futile warnings, mingling with the distant wail of approaching sirens. The air was choked with concrete dust, limiting visibility and coating the scene with a grim, hazy pall.
Several blocks away, Tyson spotted the Abomination's unmistakable silhouette. Even at a distance, the creature was a mountainous figure of pure menace. Without an instant's hesitation, Tyson broke into a full sprint, his own prodigious speed rapidly closing the distance between them.
As Tyson drew nearer to the rampaging behemoth, the scene erupted into greater chaos. A military Humvee roared into view, firing a rocket directly at the Abomination. The creature snatched the speeding projectile right out of the air. Then, in a twisted parody of a frat bro crushing a beer can, the Abomination smashed the live rocket against its head, detonating it harmlessly against its seemingly impervious skin. The explosion washed over the monster, who absorbed the impact as though it were nothing.
The Humvee, already battered and damaged, recognized the hopelessness of its attack. In a desperate bid to escape the Abomination's wrath, the vehicle jerked into reverse, tires screeching as it sped backward down Broadway in panicked retreat.
The Abomination thundered after it in pursuit, flinging aside cars and debris easily. Vehicles were sent cartwheeling through the air, tossed aside like children's toys by the creature's overwhelming might. It was a surreal and nightmarish sight, watching the hulking Abomination stampede down the road, swatting anything in its path aside with casual indifference, as though brushing away insects.
Tyson witnessed the chaos unfolding, and the wanton destruction this rampaging behemoth unleashed with each sweeping gesture. He understood the need to stop Blonsky before the damage and loss of life grew more severe. The Abomination left only havoc and ruin in its wake. Steeling himself, Tyson sprinted towards the creature, prepared to confront one of the most dangerous foes, and certainly the strongest, he had ever faced.
The desperate chase through the streets ended as the Humvee, trying in vain to escape the pursuit of the rampaging Abomination, careened into a wall of abandoned vehicles. The soldiers inside the armored truck braced themselves, trapped with no way out, as the monster closed in.
At that moment, a taxi cab entered the intersection, the driver unaware of the unfolding situation. The car collided with the Abomination.
Despite the impact, the creature was utterly unfazed. With a stomp of its gigantic foot, the Abomination crushed the taxi partially underfoot, the force sending the vehicle's back rising into the air. Grabbing the car as it rose, it hoisted the yellow cab over its head with terrifying ease.
Its guttural voice echoed through the streets as it challenged, "Give me a real fight!"
Holding the taxi high, the Abomination prepared to slam it down onto the helpless military vehicle, intending to crush the civilians in the within, and the soldiers in the Humvee, destroying both vehicles in a single, devastating blow.
In an act of sheer audacity and bravery, and what Tyson knew was stupidity, he positioned himself directly in front of the trapped Humvee.
As the taxi came crashing down. Tyson raised his hands, intercepting the vehicle in mid-air.
Tyson stood locked in a tense battle of strength…
with the Abomination.
The Abomination loomed over Tyson, using its colossal physical might to bear the taxi down on his newest challenger. Despite Tyson's superhuman strength, he was outmatched by the creature's monstrous force. Slowly, tauntingly, Tyson was driven down to one knee under the immense weight and power.
A cruel, mocking laugh erupted from the Abomination's throat. "You're weak, but you might be fun for a few seconds," it taunted Tyson, its words dripping with malice and dark amusement. The creature's eyes, filled with the promise of violence, locked onto Tyson's determined gaze. Maintaining eye contact, the Abomination's attention was momentarily drawn to Tyson's distinctive blue-green eyes. In that brief, entrancing moment, Tyson seized his opening and ensnared the monster in his illusion. With a blink of his eyes, Tyson's illusory powers transformed the chaotic urban landscape into a serene and surreal scene.
The taxi that the Abomination had been about to crush vanished, along with the surrounding destruction and the city itself. In their place materialized an idyllic setting; a tranquil grassy field bordered by a lush, dense forest.
Confused and disoriented by the sudden, inexplicable change of environment, the Abomination lowered his massive hands and spun around, searching for clues.
His eyes, filled with bewilderment and anger, scanned the peaceful surroundings until they landed on the only other figure in sight. The man he'd been about to crush now stood a distance away across the field. Though he appeared calm and composed, the man's appearance had changed dramatically. He now wore a striking black robe embroidered with red clouds.
Unable to comprehend the abrupt shift in reality, the Abomination leaped towards the robed man in a single, powerful bound, closing the distance between them.
Frustration and curiosity were evident in the beast's gravelly voice as he demanded, "Who are you?"
Tyson stood confidently before the hulking, towering figure of the Abomination. "They call me Mirage," he said.
The Abomination snarled, rage and confusion simmering in its beady eyes. "They're going to call you dead," it growled.
Drawing back its massive fist, the creature aimed a punch at Mirage with enough force to shatter concrete. Tyson held his ground as the blow descended. The massive fist connected squarely with his face, but instead of crushing bone and sinew, it passed through. Tyson's figure dispersed into a flock of crows, leaving the Abomination stumbling forward. The crows swirled into the sky, merging and spinning in a black vortex before coalescing once more upon the ground.
The Abomination blinked in bewilderment as not one, but two identical Mirages now stood before it.
"Stand still and let me kill you!" the monster roared.
It charged the two Mirages, swinging its arms furiously, but each time it struck only crows erupted from its blows. The birds reformed again as four calm Mirages, multiplying in the face of the creature's rage.
In synchronized motion, Four identical figures of Mirage reached behind their backs, producing deadly kunai daggers. The Mirages began to encircle the Abomination, spreading out strategically to surround their massive foe. Then the ninjas charged as one. It was like watching a deadly choreographed dance, the four figures flowing around the Abomination as if they shared one mind. Each strike was timed perfectly to exploit vulnerabilities in the creature's defense.
The Abomination responded with wild, powerful swings of its massive arms, attempting to bat away its adversaries. But the Mirages flowed around each blow evading the attacks effortlessly. Most of Abomination's strikes met empty air, finding no purchase as the nimble Mirages ducked and dodged each swipe. On the rare occasions when a blow did connect with one of the figures, they dispersed into a murder of crows, only to re-form again nearby.
"You're a fly!" the Abomination bellowed in defiant rage. "Even a swarm of you can't harm me! I took a rocket to the face. What can your little daggers do?"
The boast died in its throat, transformed into a wheezing gasp. The Abomination's eyes went wide with shock as it staggered.
A precise blow pierced its back straight through to the heart.
Dark blood dripped from its slack jaw as the mighty Abomination sank to its knees. He collapsed to the ground, a gaping hole in his back marked the blow that had penetrated his seemingly unbreakable defenses.
— Rogue Replacement —
The Abomination released its hold on the taxi as it turned and leaped away, trapped in Tyson's illusion. Its release left the vehicle's full weight in Tyson's hands. Kneeling beneath the yellow cab, he found that without the creature bearing down, he could manage its weight easily.
Tyson called to the stunned soldiers he'd saved within the Humvee, "Get out of here, now!" The firm order snapped the soldiers back to reality. Still reeling from the shock of the encounter and their unexpected savior, the soldiers scrambled from their battered vehicle without hesitation. Eager to distance themselves from the behemoth, they took off in the opposite direction.
The Abomination, meanwhile, stood disoriented, attacking invisible foes.
Tyson wove misdirection and manipulation. The Abomination relied on straightforward brute force, but that was useless here. Each attack was unbeknownst to the creature, directed only at the empty street. Tyson turned the tide seamlessly, shifting the fight from a physical confrontation to a mental battle. The Abomination was outmatched, its anger and power useless against the illusions.
It was the mouse and Tyson the cat, his prey ensnared in an inescapable trap.
With the immediate threat under control, Tyson shifted his focus to the taxi driver's safety. Gently, he lowered the battered cab to the ground, allowing the man to escape the twisted confines of the vehicle.
Tyson approached the Abomination. Within his vision, he saw the grassy field and forest he had conjured overlaid over the cracked concrete and abandoned cars on the street. He was the master of the illusion, allowing him to navigate both worlds at once.
The Abomination was lost in Tyson's illusory Mirages. Frustration boiled over into defiant rage and he bellowed, "You're a fly! Even a swarm of you can't harm me! I took a rocket to the face. What can your little daggers do?"
Tyson, behind the oblivious behemoth, unsheathed his adamantium claws. He drove both sets of talons into the Abomination's exposed back. The indestructible adamantium pierced through skin, muscle, and bone before penetrating the Abomination's chest in a spray of dark blood.
The Abomination's arrogant shouts transformed into a gurgling gasp. Shock flooded the creature's face as he sank to his knees, slack-jawed with Tyson's claws still buried deep in his back. The once mighty foe collapsed, the gaping wounds in its back marked where the adamantium had penetrated its seemingly impregnable defenses.
He was raised in a small, unremarkable town in England. As soon as he was old enough, he joined the Royal Marines. He thrived under the rigorous demands of military life, his body and mind honed into instruments of combat and strategy. His skills and dedication did not go unnoticed, and soon he was offered a promotion to Colonel. However, the prospect of a desk job, removed from the action and the front lines, held no appeal for him. He refused the promotion, choosing instead to remain where he felt he belonged; in the thick of the fight, leading his men from the front. He became involved in black ops missions. These covert operations took him to the darkest corners of the world, where the rules of engagement were blurred. The danger was constant, but so was the thrill. But the thrill of combat and the satisfaction of a mission accomplished began to wane. He was aging, his body unable to keep up with his drives. He started to crave more power, more strength, a way to push his limits beyond the natural capabilities of his body. He met General Ross who gave him a chance to become more than a soldier, a super soldier. But even so, he couldn’t defeat the monster. He needed more strength. It was this relentless pursuit of strength that made him coerce Dr. Sterns to use the monster’s blood to push him past human limitations, making him an Abomination.
Tyson underwent a dramatic transformation. His muscles were the first to morph, swelling rapidly as they expanded to exponential size and density. Tearing through his clothing, each muscle group bulged and rippled, becoming more pronounced and powerful. His skin toughened into a thick, resilient texture, while his adamantium skeletal structure adapted to support the increased mass. Tyson's height shot up as his bones lengthened and thickened, reshaping his physique into an imposing, formidable form that towered over even the hulking Abomination.
Tyson's features grew more rugged, embodying the ferocity of his new form. His jawline hardened, and his teeth sharpened into animalistic points. His eyes, which had always been one of his most distinctive features, now glowed with an intense, fierce energy.
With staggering strength, Tyson grasped the Abomination's rapidly beating heart. He flexed his powerful muscles and forcefully pulled his clawed hands from the creature's back in a shower of viscera.
Mortally wounded, the monstrous being stumbled and fell heavily to its knees. It teetered there briefly before collapsing face-first onto the pavement with a resounding thud. The Abomination lay unmoving, bleeding out on the street.
Tyson stood victorious over the Abomination, the creature's heart still in his hand.
The hulking monstrosity began to shrink. As its mass dwindled, it reverted to the human form of Emil Blonsky. The gaping hole in its back closed as it transformed.
Tyson snatched up Blonsky's limp body in one massive hand and tossed him carelessly into the backseat of an abandoned car on the street. Gripping the sedan in both hands, Tyson hefted it overhead. He tensed his legs and leaped skyward, each bound propelling him high and covering immense distances. After three such titanic leaps that left craters in the concrete below, Tyson landed with an earth-shaking thud amidst the campus grounds of Greyburn College. With a grunt, he released his hold on the car, dropping it heavily to the pavement where it landed with an ear-splitting crash of metal and glass.
— Rogue Replacement —
The SHIELD cleanup team had arrived on the scene, handling the situation with Dr. Sterns and the critical blood samples of Bruce Banner. Natasha had just stepped out of the building when a startling scene unfolded in the center of the Greyburn College campus.
From the night sky, a hulking figure descended with an earth-shaking thud. The creature held a crumpled car aloft, its metal frame creaking and groaning. With a grunt, it released its grip, dropping the mangled vehicle to the pavement where it crashed in a bang of metal and shattering glass. A limp body was thrown about inside like a ragdoll before coming to rest.
Natasha's heart sank at the sight. Her mind raced to the worst possible conclusion.
Tyson had failed.
The Abomination prevailed. Fear gripped her, wondering if Tyson was dead.
Nearby soldiers reacted on instinct, opening fire on the beast. Their bullets seemed ineffective, barely marring the creature's thick hide. It turned to face them, unfazed by the barrage. But as its head swiveled, Natasha's sharp eyes caught a distinctive feature that changed everything. The creature's eyes glowed in the darkness, one azure blue and the other emerald green.
At the sight of the beast's mismatched eyes, Natasha's mind reeled. In an instant, the truth dawned on her.
That was not the Abomination.
The hulking creature before them was Tyson, transformed. He must have made contact with his monstrous foe, taking on its horrific appearance. Relief washed over Natasha, followed by concern.
The soldiers nearby continued their pointless gunfire. Their bullets ricocheted off Tyson's thick hide.
Natasha acted quickly, raising her voice. "Hold your fire!" she commanded.
To her surprise, the soldiers complied, their gunfire ceasing abruptly. Perhaps her authority gave them pause or the futility of their actions finally sank in. Whatever the reason, their compliance gave Natasha the opening she desperately needed.
With the threat of friendly fire eliminated, Natasha cautiously approached Tyson. She moved with her hands raised in a peaceful gesture. He towered over her, but Natasha showed no fear. She stopped a safe distance away, her eyes locked onto his. She sought to convey trust and reassurance. Her voice was gentle yet firm as she addressed the man within the monster.
"Hey, big guy," she called, "I know you're in there. This isn't you. The fighting is over. You've done it. You stopped the threat."
She took a small step forward, hands still raised. "You've saved everyone here. But I need you to come back. I need the real you, not this creature."
Natasha's voice was soothing and hypnotic. "Remember who you are, deep down. You're not a monster. You're a hero. You help people."
"Look at me. Focus on my voice. You're in control here, not the monster." Moving closer with slow steps, Natasha maintained her calming presence. "I know you can fight this. You're stronger than you realize. Come back to us now. Come back to me. I know you're still in there."
Her voice dropped to a murmur. She was close now, close enough to touch him. "Je pense que je pourrais t'aimer aussi."
As Natasha's words reached Tyson, he slowly sank to his knees before her. Gradually, almost imperceptibly, the grotesque, overgrown muscles bulging under Tyson's skin began to wither. The thick, resilient hide stretched taut over his frame returned to its original human texture and tone. His towering height diminished as he shrank back to his familiar size. The hardened features of his face relaxed and reformed into their human shape. The wild glow faded from his eyes as the last traces of the transformation left him.
Kneeling before Natasha, Tyson was himself again. Seeing the man return from the depths of his monstrous state, Natasha immediately stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him in a fierce, comforting embrace. Her hug conveyed relief, support, and care as she enveloped Tyson in the warmth of her presence. Natasha held him close reassuring him that he was no longer alone in his struggle and that someone understood and cared for him. In that embrace, she conveyed her relief at his return to humanity, and her unwavering support.
Tyson, still kneeling, looked up at Natasha. He flashed a grin, his eyes glinting with mischief. "I was in control the whole time, you know," he remarked cheekily.
Natasha rolled her eyes, though the quirk of her lips betrayed her amusement. "Of course you were," she replied dryly.
Tyson's expression softened then, turning earnest. "But it was nice to hear you say that you love me," he added in a gentle voice.
Though she often played it casual, Natasha could not hide the affection in her gaze as she looked at him. The words had slipped out unbidden in a moment of relief and raw emotion. Voicing it aloud made it real in a way that pierced her usual composure.