The Silver Lining
A year from now, a certain silver line zipped through the dark starry sky, this glowing line could easily be seen in the pitch black dark. Suddenly, as a young child watched from his window, he witnessed the beam of silver stop. Running up to his father's bedroom, he reached for the telescope. Spending a few seconds to get it ready in a hurry, he looked through it. Looking straight at the silver comet, which had oddly stopped, he stood back in awe. It was an amazing sight, and as he took another look he realised the comet had disappeared, perhaps to keep flying through the starry skies. He sat on his father's bed and couldn't believe what he saw. His father awoke, "What's the matter, Franklin?" he questioned, still lying in his bed. "I saw the surfer, dad!" The young child replied, with glee. The father in the bed leaned forwards from lying down. "You saw the surfer? I must've miscalculated the time I'd be able to see it. That's a bit of a shame…" He spoke, reaching for his glasses on the side. The father had grey hair, and brown eyes. His son was around the age of nine, and already showed the intellect of his father, Reed Richards…
On the grounds of the Xavier institute, sat the great Beast and leader Scott Summers. There they stood, in large overcoats. Beast was no different than his usual self, yet most of his face was covered by the shadow of his hat. Both mutants stood before a golden gravestone. "I miss him, Hank. I really do." Scott said, sorting out his left sleeve. "I think we all do, Scott. He was a great leader; even after his passing he inspires most mutants so powerfully. I spoke to Emma last night, by the way." Beast replied, looking at the smaller gravestone beside Professor Charles Xavier's. "How is she?" Scott wondered, peering up into the starry sky. "She's not too bad, she's finding it incredibly hard to overcome the fact she's lost her telepathy. Scott, I do believe she wouldn't mind making contact with you once more." The blue furred mutant claimed, looking at Scott. Summers shook his head briefly, "I don't think I would like to speak to her. The past may be something to be forgotten, sometimes…but our memories? Nothing to be proud of. Remember Hank, it was my obsession with Jean that lead to her demise." Scott answered, looking away. "Well, try to think about it…Ororo and I are leaving for England tomorrow night. I hope you'll be there, alongside our old friends." Beast hoped, as he walked away slowly. "I'll make it, Hank. You take care." Scott finished, as he stepped back into the mansion….
1 year ago…
"Just took a detour, and I presume it's more than enough for you to consume. I understand I'm enslaved, but I don't approve of your hunger. Can't we at least move onto a different planet? This is more than you need. It's going to take a lot, to take this planet down." A man, cloaked in a silver substance said. He was speaking to another being, and they were oddly having their conversation on the surface of the moon. The man in the silver substance was hovering with a sleek, silver board. He was bald, and had no eye colour either. His muscles could easily prove he was tough. He was speaking to a man his stature, who wore a strange purple suit. He looked extremely old, yet had the same muscle structure as the man dressed in silver. He had blue eyes, and had short black hair. The man in purple sighed to himself, as he was sitting. "The other planets have done nothing for me, Surfer. I need to taste something challenging, for once…I'll assign you to accomplish various tasks, to bring the planet down slowly." He replied, in a very deep voice. The man addressed as Surfer placed his board on the dusty, uneven ground and sat beside the man. "I managed to take an account of the history, and they've had a rough past few years. Can't you at least try to satisfy your hunger elsewhere?" The Surfer questioned, awaiting a response. The man dressed in purple stood up and crossed his arms. "What a shame, for now they must face the most difficult force ever. The world devourer, Galactus!" He boasted, with his arms held high in the air. "Galactus, surely you can comprehend with what they've been through?" The Surfer questioned, still. "I've already transferred the memories you've gathered in your head, into my brain. They haven't been through that much, have they? There have been a few deaths here and there, heroes lost. You are my herald, Surfer. Stop persuading me to change my mind. They haven't prepared for me, yet. I have no place in my heart for those human beings. Time to devour this rather odd planet." He yelled, as he began to hover in the air. "Now, now we begin. Have you found the strongest advantages the planet has?" Galactus spoke, as he looked straight at the planet Earth. The Surfer leapt onto his board which was already hovering, and he slowly moved towards the planet Earth. "Yes, I've found out pretty much all I need to know." The Surfer answered. "Good, I'll implant the orders, once you land on the miserable planet." Galactus replied. The Surfer looked back at Galactus and sighed to himself softly. He pulled the tip of his board up, as he entered the Earth's atmosphere. His silver body was glowing red, and his whole body and board were glowing that colour. He struggled only the slightest, unlike any other person would. It was obvious he was a cosmic being, he was able to create sound, survive in space and even enter Earth's atmosphere without a burn. Finally, he had reached the atmosphere of Earth, but for some bizarre odd reason he didn't concentrate and fell from the skies. Yelling in fear, he was falling into a vast barren rocky plain…
It was a late afternoon, in the sunny place of Spain. A well known American hero, stood outside on the balcony. He sipped his wine, and felt the loneliest he had ever been…in a long time. His old friend, Bucky…died just a few years back. He was the only friend Steve Rogers had left, of his generation. Nothing much had changed with Steve Rogers, sure he had retired from the superhero lifestyle but his appearance stayed the same. The super-soldier serum still flowed through his veins. Around twelve years ago, superheroes became something of the past. The world became a better place; villains were either locked up or killed. S.H.I.E.L.D became a greater importance across the world, finally being able to recreate the serum that made Steve Rogers; Captain America. S.H.I.E.L.D operatives filled in the boots of the famous superheroes. Heroes retired, to lead a normal life. Steve Rogers was the last to retire, to lead a married life with Janet, known as The Wasp. She hadn't changed much; just her brown hair was much longer. She walked up towards Steve, who was in another world…thinking about the past life. She wrapped her arms around him, and relaxed her head on his back. "Are you okay, Steve? You've become rather distant recently…" Janet questioned, closing her eyes. "Steve? Are you okay?" She repeated. Steve finally stopped thinking about the few years back, and answered. "Not really, Janet. You'd think, after all this time…I would have adjusted. It still only feels like last week, when I was thawed out of the ice. I've lost Bucky, the only one I could relate too in this new world. His death, it's just affected me. Today was the exact day he died on that hospital bed years ago. Why can't I adjust, Janet?" Steve wondered, looking down. Janet didn't reply, she had been receiving this behaviour from Steve all year. She tried to comprehend with the fact Steve came from a different generation, but she just couldn't cope. Her arms left Steve's side, as she walked into the room to pick up a phone call. As she did, she briefly turned to the saddened Steve Rogers. For some bizarre reason, Janet didn't want her husband listening in on her conversation over the phone. The main reason was because; she was speaking to an old flame, her ex-husband…Hank Pym. Janet felt neglected, and saw Hank Pym as her comfort. Steve walked back into the main living area, and looked up at the glistening American shield. He closed his eyes briefly, and remembered the last time he used that weapon…
Twelve years ago…
The Helicarrier that belonged to Nick Fury was a nightmare. Johann Schmidt, formerly known as the Red Skull had finally left his mark on the world. He had killed dozens of S.H.I.E.L.D agents by unleashing a deadly flesh eating virus. The exact same virus that had disfigured his face. Flames surrounded the Helicarrier, weapons were destroyed, and prisoners were freed. Considering this was the beginning of the end of an era, the Red Skull knew he had a great chance to finally topple S.H.I.E.L.D. He was vastly successful, in killing hundreds…and even, Steve Roger's old flame from the 1950's, Wendy. This meant, for definite…that Captain America wouldn't take this lying down. Nick Fury was busy tackling the escaped villains with the remaining agents. Only one man stood in the way of the Red Skull. He had planned to devastate New York, by allowing the damaged Helicarrier to crash on the people below. Amongst the bodies and flames, stood the proud Red Skull. A helicopter swooped over, which was piloted by Steve himself. He was in his Captain America attire, and yielded his shield. This wasn't the time for perfect landings, so Steve leapt out of the helicopter before it crashed into an already partially destroyed control room. From the flames, emerged Steve Rogers; as Captain America. He equipped his shield on his left arm. The Red Skull smiled, at the presence of Captain America. "So, came to enjoy the display? Finally arrived, to see the destruction of S.H.I.E.L.D? I did it, Cap'n. You thought you killed me, don't you know…villains like me, never die?!" Red Skull boasted, whilst laughing. He then proceeded to fire his pistol at Captain America. With his maneuverability, Steve easily evaded the gunfire. "You sicken me, and today…I'm taking you down, for good." Steve claimed, leaping in the air. Such a hate never filled Captain America's heart, yet losing loved ones, losing so many people had affected his mental stability. He couldn't care about right or wrongs; he wanted the Red Skull…dead. The shield of America was thrown at an angle, to make a direct hit. The Red Skull's arm was scuffed, yet he didn't show it. "You almost ruined Peter's life, Skull. I can't let you go on!" Steve yelled. The Red Skull had had enough with weapons; he wanted Steve dead by the use of his bare hands. "Well, I guess this is our defining moment. Come and get me, Cap'n!" The Red Skull sniggered. They ran up towards each other amidst the fire. Yelling at each other, they both managed to get a punch across the face. It all happened so slowly, Steve's right leg kicked the Red Skull in the gut. He didn't feel it, and actually used his rotting teeth to bite into Steve's arm. Steve surely felt that, and yelled in agony. Steve landed another blow, across the jaw. Without Steve's knowledge, the Red Skull was playing dirty. He disguised a small knife in his left hand, and out of the blue…stabbed Captain America in the right lung. The sharp stab immediately hurt Steve. Blood slowly dripped from his chest. Steve's eyes widened, is jaw dropped. As the Red Skull looked on in glee, he didn't realise what was behind him. The trajectory of Steve's shield was made so it would act like a boomerang. The spinning side of the shield smacked the rotting flesh at the back of the Red Skull's head. He was dazed slightly, as his dark blue blood dripped down his neck. Steve pulled the small knife from the Skull's grasp and threw it aside. The Red Skull felt the surge of pain down the back of his head. "You…bastard, Steve Rogers. You actually caught me off guard! Your shield, I actually forgot about! How could I have acted so idiotic?!" He screamed with his arms up in the air. Steve was having trouble breathing; internal bleeding was affecting him badly. He collapsed on the ground and placed his hands over his chest, gritting his teeth together. "Having trouble there, Steve?" The Red Skull asked, as he laughed. He picked up Steve's shield, which had the Red Skull's blue blood smeared on. "Oh, how great. Your shield will actually be the death of you…how, suitable." The Red Skull couldn't stop sniggering, as he held the shield high. Steve ordered himself to focus; else he knew he would be dead. He squinted and felt the wound throb with pain. Clenching his fist so ever so tightly, he punched the Red Skull in the private parts. It was a low blow, but anything counted in this fight. The Red Skull looked down at the position of Steve's fist. Steve looked on in shock. "Pathetic Rogers!" He spoke, kicking Steve across the face. He coughed blood and his vision began to blur. He crouched onto his knees, and breathed deeply. As the thunder and lightening struck above them, Steve knew what he had to do. He had to muster all his strength, one final hit…to kill the Skull. "So long, Captain America…" The Skull said, lifting the shield high. Steve closed his eyes, clenched his fist…and threw his whole fist into the Skull's gut. He literally punctured through the Skull's skin, leaving his fist in the Skull's stomach. The Red Skull screamed in suffering, as he dropped the shield. "This is my chance…and my shield shall be the death of you!" Steve breathed in deeply, and reached for his shield. Leaning backwards, he started to put the swing of the shield in motion. He kicked the Red Skull briefly, to make sure this shot would count. The Red Skull looked up at Steve, and actually saw a serious fury within his eyes. A murderous fury. Steve mustered all his strength, all his power into this one swing. Letting go of the shield, it spun directly in the Red Skull's direction. It was a direct hit, into the Red Skull's torso. The throw was so powerful, that the body of the Red Skull was thrown into the distance, too. Steve collapsed, and began to have serious trouble breathing. He began to blank out, in short bursts. A huge explosion followed, and Steve was almost blinded. Shrapnel flew in all places as flames circled Steve, and even burned most of his legs. Smoke couldn't fill his lungs right now. A burning body appeared, set alight by the most ravaging flames. The Red Skull staggered from the explosion, holding the same pistol. His whole body shook, as his scarred body was enduring the burning fire. The burning sensation was inside of him. He struggled to keep a direct aim, and then decided he got one. You couldn't keep the Skull down, that easily. With one move of the index finger, he fired the gun. The bullet went straight into Steve's left shoulder. Steve couldn't yell in pain, he didn't have the strength too. The Red Skull couldn't smile, his face was that disfigured. His tongue was heavily burnt, so he couldn't speak either. He just staggered closer towards Steve, who was blacking out. A metre or two away from Steve, the Skull actually managed an evil smirk. His torso, then suddenly broke in half before Steve. The upper half of the Red Skull laid beside Steve, as the peering stare of the finally dead Skull still gazed at him. That was the last image he saw, before finally giving into the pain. He closed his eyes, and stopped breathing. There lay Steve's body, battered and bruised…to be soon rescued by Fury himself.
Months later…
"B-Bucky, is that you?" An injured Steve Rogers questioned, lying in a hospital bed. Half of his body was bandaged up, as major burns made their mark on his legs. It had been the first time Steve had woke up since he killed the Skull. His old friend, Bucky…may have been pushing seventy-three, yet he stayed beside Steve everyday. "Did we…kill Schmidt?" Steve questioned. Bucky turned to Steve, in such happiness. "Yes, the Red Skull…is no more. You killed him on that very day, on the Helicarrier. You did it Steve!" Bucky responded. "That's awesome…" Steve spoke, before falling asleep once more. Janet entered the room, alongside Hank Pym. "How is he?" Janet wondered, standing beside the bed Steve laid in. Bucky looked up, "He just woke up. Questioned me about the Skull, and then fell asleep." He answered. Hank was on the other side of the bed, sitting beside Steve. He was his usual self, short brown hair, a sly grin and he still didn't respect Captain America. Hank picked up a box of chocolates given to Steve, and opened the box. Looking at the selection of different flavours, he picked his favourite. "Hank, how dare you. Put them away!" Janet ordered, crossing her arms. "Oh, Jan. Don't be like that, by the time he wakes up again…there'll be out of date. At least someone will enjoy em." Hank replied, as he continued to eat more. "Oh, Steve…please wake up soon…" Janet spoke softly under her breath.
11 years later
"I don't know, Jan. Surely Steve suspects something? I doubt it'll be a great idea meeting up this weekend. I'm also rather busy; I've been introduced to this new body enhancing serum these eggheads have been trying out. If it all goes well, I'm helping them introduce it to Fury. Perhaps we can see each other, Monday morning? I have an excellent idea, of where we can have dinner." Hank Pym spoke, over the phone. He was sitting in his lonely apartment in Chicago, leading a partially normal life. Yet he always had an urge to return to science, in his basement now and then. For him, he was rather fortunate. After such a lonely life, an old flame had recently got in contact. She was tired of her married life; she found comfort and relaxation with Hank. This woman, being Steve Roger's wife Janet. She was growing distant from Steve, she couldn't handle the fact they were from different generations. Sure, they spent a lot of time together. Yet this ate Janet up slowly, and she needed a retreat. "Monday morning, sounds fine with me. Will you pick me up?" Janet questioned. She needed this, regardless of her past relationship problems with Hank. She was getting tired of Steve complaining about the television, sick of his clothing, his lifestyle. Hank was Janet's escape.
"What the hell, are you?" A man asked, standing above a body. He face couldn't be seen; the sunlight shadowed his face from above. Yet, the shine of his spectacles could be viewed. He continued to speak, "Your whole body…it's some silver substance. You're either one of Fury's latest freak agents…or, you're an alien. Well…an alien surfer." The man walked up towards the shiny silver board, which the alien known as the Silver Surfer owned. This 'alien' was indeed the Silver Surfer, who had fallen from the skies. His attempt to reach the Earth's atmosphere didn't go so greatly this time round. He landed in a vast desert, an old testing army testing ground. The Surfer was conscious, just a little dazed. The Surfer found himself amongst a lone male, who seemed to live in an extremely secluded hut in the middle of the desert. The man adjusted his glasses, and crouched down towards the Surfer. He was easily recognisable by the Surfer, this man had dirty messy, long brown hair. His stubble almost became a beard, and his clothes…were ragged. The Surfer turned his head to the man, and questioned him. "You're Banner, right?" He wondered. The Surfer placed his right hand on Banner's shoulder. The Surfer was right; this was Bruce Banner crouching beside him. "How do you know my name?" Bruce asked. The Surfer rubbed his forehead, and turned to Banner. "Oh, well you are well known for your past." He replied, finally standing up. Bruce looked aside, in disappointment. "What are you doing here, anyway?" The Surfer asked, brushing the dust from his arms. Bruce Banner adjusted his glasses, and spoke. "This little hut you see before you, it's my escape." He moved his hand in the direction to show the dilapidated hut. "Your escape…?" The Surfer questioned.
Hundreds of miles away, in an old abandoned training facility, thirty-something S.H.I.E.L.D agents stormed in. They all ran in immediately, and stood amongst each other in a straight line. A wooden door opened slightly, and out stepped S.H.I.E.L.D agent Gabriel Jones. He was one of the first of black men to work in an entire white S.H.I.E.L.D community. A trusted friend of Nick Fury, he leaded a small portion of the 'Deltite' super soldiers. The 'Deltite' soldiers were S.H.I.E.L.D's very own collection of Steve Rogers. With the matching DNA, they managed to give these once normal human beings, the strength of Captain America. Gabriel Jones' face couldn't be seen, it was overshadowed by his cap. "Soldiers. You're here today, to neutralise this pest…" He turned, and with his index finger; pointed at a cracked monitor screen. The soldiers stood silent, looking on as a small video began to play. The video itself was of awful quality, most definitely amateur footage. Some of the soldiers squinted, some didn't show many emotions. On the screen, the Silver Surfer was shown. Taking down various agents years ago, so he could gain access towards the files of every known super powered human. The footage cut off when the Surfer noticed it, and then yet another video appeared. It was only a few mere seconds, but it was a shot of the Surfer across the sky above Asia. Gabriel ordered the video to cut off, as he addressed the soldiers with the problem. "We've nicknamed him, 'Silver'. He's been spotted around the world, for the past few months. Our fellow extra-terrestrial agents S.W.O.R.D have ordered us to neutralise this alien foe. Regardless of whatever he intends to bring onto this planet, have it good or bad. In this new world, we don't take chances anymore men. He's powerful, extremely powerful. This is why we need around thirty of you, at your very best. He bizarrely obtains some cosmic power. We'll be equipping with you with these conveniently small jetpacks," Gabriel spoke, whilst displaying the equipment behind him. "We will drop you off, at the point where he turned up on our radars. A few hundred miles from here, this shouldn't take too long to get to in time. Soldiers, prepare yourselves for this." Gabriel finished, as he walked slowly out of the room to be accompanied by someone else. Little did they know, when they would reach the Surfer…the alien wouldn't be their only problem.
"I tell ya, Kang…who the frickin' hell does he think he is?! He arrives at Stark's house. Stark house. My old house. He tells us he's from the future. From the future. Like from the year 3000 or summit. Who the hell, is from the…the, that year? Loser. Hell. What me drinking?" The drunken Tony Stark questioned, rocking back and forth slightly. He sat there, alone. In his 24/7 nightclub, where a certain mechanised barman gave him drinks at the touch of a button. Tony had once again, lost his soul to alcohol. He was a changed man, for definite. Stark enterprises couldn't fund anyone else anymore. Times had changed, no nerdy teenager would idolise Iron Man with tons of posters scattered across their walls. Tony lost most of his friends, who either got hitched, or disappeared. Tony's only ever had one friend nowadays, which he always argued with. That friend being the non-responsive robotic barman. "Well then? What is this?" Tony Stark then collapsed on the floor, in a paralysed state. This poor man had lost it. A door opened, and then the nightclub's music stopped. Dawn Fury walked up towards the paralysed Tony Stark. Dawn Fury, was the blonde haired sister of Nicholas Fury. She didn't have much to do with S.H.I.E.L.D itself, but for some bizarre reason the recent occurrences got her interested. Dawn crouched down, beside Tony Stark. "You've gone off the rails, hun. I'm afraid; methinks we'll need your assistance sometime soon. Something big is coming our way. Not that you can hear me, though. Oh well, let me just take you to your bed. We'll talk when you wake up…" Dawn claimed, picking up the heavy Tony Stark.
We return to the desert, to find the Surfer still speaking with Bruce Banner. "Well, I infiltrated S.H.I.E.L.D, and looked into their log files. I know pretty much about your past. Didn't know you were living here, though. They got you down as MIA. Guess you chose a rather secluded place, well done there. It was a surprise I even came across you here on this barren desert." He spoke, looking into the sky. "It's not easy…living with my past. I've killed so many people…wrecked, so many lives." Bruce replied, adjusting his glasses once more. The Surfer placed his right hand on Bruce's shoulder. "Look, forget about the past. Live in the present. No matter what you've done before. You're here now, living a new life." The Surfer said, trying to reassure Bruce Banner. He stopped speaking, and looked into the sky immediately. "Something…isn't right." He murmured, clenching his fists. A slightly small object could be seen falling down at a tremendous rate. Bruce looked up into the sky, yet the sunlight blinded him briefly. "What is it?" Bruce questioned. Before the Surfer could reply, they were hit with an extremely powerful missile. It was a direct hit, engulfing the area in a circle of ravaging fire. From the flames and smoke, miraculously…the Surfer appeared. He was covered in a few flames, yet he didn't seem phased by the explosion or fire. He flew out from the smoke immediately. Circling the crater it created, wondering what had become of Bruce Banner. He squinted; trying to make sure Bruce had actually survived the attack…somehow. As he did so, he didn't recognise the full fleet of super-soldiers behind him. On their jetpacks, equipped with various weaponry. Two of them stopped in midair, metres away from the frantic Surfer. This was rather odd; the Silver Surfer was the herald of Galactus…yet cared deeply for the condition of Bruce Banner. "Excuse me. You're not from this planet, are you?" One of the super-soldiers asked, clenching his fists. He had a slight smirk upon his face; he was ready to punch the Surfer. The Silver Surfer turned around slightly, with an odd expression on his face. Noticing the amount of super-soldiers, he began to worry. Before even being able to move, one super-soldier landed a fatal blow against the face. The Surfer was stunned slightly, as the super-soldiers moved in. Some of them grabbing his limbs to make sure he couldn't move, some even trying to pry the board off his feet. The Surfer became enraged; it was obvious these people had just attacked them with a missile. He struggled, as the strength of each soldier held him back. He couldn't concentrate enough to use his cosmic powers. Yet, he didn't need to worry for much longer. Some soldiers looked down at the smoke below, noticing a strange feeling coming straight from that crater. A few even heard deep growling. "Get out! We've miscalculated our actions. The Surfer wasn't alone; I repeat…the Surfer was accompanied by Bruce Banner!" Gabriel yelled down the earpieces of each soldiers. They stopped attacking the Surfer, who looked confused. "Hey, you've given up already?" The Surfer questioned, looking puzzled. Most of them were in shock. Their jaws dropped, their eyes widened. Before them all, was the savage, brute…incredible, Hulk.
Some of the soldiers retreated a few metres back with the use of their jetpacks. They knew of the horrors the Hulk could accomplish. They knew of his unstoppable brute force. They knew that, they were in trouble. Down below, the unleashed Bruce Banner had spasms in various places. His muscles even throbbed; his whole green body was of such a sheer enormous size. The Surfer had never seen such a sight; he had only seen pictures of the destruction left. Now he could comprehend with how Bruce Banner could create so much damage. The Hulk's green pupil eyes squinted in the sunlight. He gritted his teeth together and cracked his knuckles quickly. Bruce always lost his intelligence when he became the Hulk, something he wished he could keep. So, this latest attack on the Hulk…wouldn't go down lightly. He had already figured out who was to blame. A small part of his memory remembered the Surfer consoling Bruce. With a deep breath, the Hulk was ready to take down the soldiers. Leaping in the air with such ferocity, he managed to gain so much height. The Surfer was shocked, to see this green skinned brute attacking the soldiers. Some fired their weapons, some even screamed. The Hulk was in midair, and threw two soldiers with such a force they came crashing down to the desert ground. The Surfer knew these soldiers would easily be obliterated. As he watched on at Hulk's rampage, he received a rather disturbing message via Galactus' thoughts. His orders were transferred into the Surfer's memory.
"You want me to, dispose of the Hulk being?" The Surfer asked, in a telepathic conversation with Galactus. "Yes. I'm reading his power scale, it's off the charts. Destroy him, before he gets even more powerful. Bruce Banner feeds off his own anger. He will pose as a major threat, a thorn in the side." Galactus replied. The Surfer didn't reply, he disconnected his psychic link with Galactus. He was saddened, he knew disposing of the Hulk…would also kill Bruce. Already, half of the soldiers were killed, or in major pain. Broken bones made the men cringe in pain. Some had blood dripping from their chin. A few were lost in the ground. The Hulk hadn't even finished.
"This is Gabriel, Commander Fury. Requesting back up! This is a major problem, it's about Bruce Banner!" Gabriel yelled down the phone, amongst other agents. This was a serious matter; the Hulk hadn't been unleashed for many years. Gabriel awaited an answer. He didn't receive one from Nick Fury himself. "This is S.H.I.E.L.D agent April, what is your situation?" A woman answered. "This is Gabriel Jones. The Hulk has been unleashed, I repeat. The Hulk is attacking our men!" Gabriel threw the phone aside. He turned to three agents. "We still have the serum here?" He questioned. Gabriel wanted the super-soldier serum; he wanted it running through his veins. One of the agents handed him the briefcase, with the pneumatic injector gun inside. "We ever strengthened the amount?" Gabriel wondered. "In all honesty, we can't. It's not advised you inject it like this, Gabriel…" One agent replied. "My men are dying out there, I ain't gonna sit here and watch the massacre. Drop me down, now." Gabriel ordered, as he reached for the injector. Closing his eyes, he injected himself in the leg. He didn't feel the surge of power as of yet, but it would surely kick in soon enough…
One soldier on the ground had already received a broken arm. "Please…spare me." He said, with a trembling voice. The Hulk looked down on him; he didn't feel the need to speak. Two soldiers crept up behind the Hulk, armed with powerful daggers. Leaping onto his back, they stabbed him in the shoulders. The Hulk did bleed, but didn't receive so much pain. He was angered though, and helped release that frustration by smacking the two soldiers high into the sky. A recorded six super-soldiers were dead. This was frightening; they weren't named super-soldiers for no reason. These were the human beings, with a certain serum inside them which makes them 'perfect'. How could the Hulk kill them so easily? Up from above, the Surfer knew he had to make his unwilling move. He hovered down slowly, amidst the fight. He hovered before the Hulk and three super-soldiers. "Hulk…I can't let you go on…stop killing these men." He ordered. Staring straight into the Hulk's green eyes. The super-soldiers walked up towards the Surfer. "You're not against us?" They questioned. "I'm not here now, for your benefit. Unless you think, otherwise. I need to dispose of this Hulk creature." The Surfer claimed. The Hulk stopped to think, oddly enough, "Silver man…dispose?" He wondered. The Surfer nodded, whilst he decided of how to extinguish the Hulk's rampage. "It's probably for the best. I'm sorry, Bruce." The Surfer claimed, placing himself beside his silver board. The Hulk's eyes widened, those exact words hit his memory like lightening. He saw visions, of his horrendous past. At first, he glimpsed the feeble body of Bruce Banner in his mind. As if, he was watching his own life through someone else's eyes. His first images of his past showed Bruce Banner sealed away, watched upon by many scientists. Holding their clipboards, revising graphs on computers. A woman with shoulder length black hair pressed against the glass. Her face got closer to the bleary eyed Banner. "You've killed many people, Bruce. What these people are doing for you, it's for the best." She spoke, before being pulled away from her lover. The Hulk's mind was filled with yet another memory, before him stood the mighty Captain America. Steve Rogers stood in his Captain America attire, amongst ravaging flames. Iron Man was beaten badly in the background, Hank Pym was knocked unconscious, the Wasp was missing and even Luke Cage was almost dead. The ever powerful Thor stood beside Steve Rogers, who was speaking in front of a dazed Hulk. "This serum, will probably kill you…Bruce, I'm sorry. If it wasn't for you, I may not have lived again…but, I can't let you go on killing more people. Sorry, Bruce Banner." Steve Rogers had just injected the large muscled Hulk with a lethal dose, enough to even kill him. The Hulk had gone on a mighty rampage across Japan, after seeing the love of his life dining with someone else. He had yet again, gone a killing spree. Thankfully, the Avengers stopped him in his tracks. The past thoughts of Hulk seemed to carry on. His mortal enemy, who yielded the same strength of the Hulk, could be seen from such a height. He named himself Abomination, a rival in Bruce Banner's genetic research. This was the Hulk's last major brawl with his worst foe. Bruce was finally rebuilding his life, with his last hope; his cousin Jenny. The Abomination wanted the Hulk's power, and Bruce Banner's intelligence. He succeeded, and plagued Bruce's life for years. Until one day, when the Hulk totalled all of the Abomination's life work. Abomination decided to finally leave his mark on the Hulk. During the last brawl they had, the Hulk was distracted by the opposing human forces. Amidst the foray, Abomination caught Jenny. Looking onto a petrified Hulk, Abomination spoke. With only one arm left, he smiled. "Bruce. If there are any remnants of your intelligent mind in this creature before me, I want you to know…this may be our last conversation. I can't fight you much longer. You've disfigured my face with this hazardous waste; you've ripped off my left arm. You destroyed my life work. I'm left with nothing. This woman I clutch in my hands, was the only person to get you back up to your feet, right? Well, this is for the best…I'll leave my mark on the rest of your pitiful life!" He yelled, before tossing his arm back. With such fury, he threw Jenny hurling into the air. Bruce's own blood, his own cousin was left in the skies. The anger had never filled Bruce's alter ego so much. In a fit of rage, the Hulk pounded into the skull of the Abomination. Without hesitation to leave the monster known as Abomination, dead. All these vast, painful memories filled the Hulk's mind.
Back at the desert, the Surfer still stared at the Hulk. "I'll give you a moment Bruce…" The Surfer spoke. The Hulk actually stood still, as a slight tear appeared. This beast had some emotions left in him. You'd presume that the Hulk would want the Silver Surfer to extinguish his power but he didn't. He felt like living his life should be a punishment, not choosing death as an easy option. The Hulk didn't want this, Bruce probably didn't…either. The Surfer's left hand was raised and his palm was open. He was ready to use his cosmic powers. The super-soldiers still looked on, helping others heal from their wounds. Helicopters swooped by, from above leaving long ropes for the soldiers to grab. It was their official retreat, to regain their strength. This distracted the Surfer, who watched on. After a second or two, the Surfer turned to continue with the Hulk. Within those mere seconds, the Hulk had left. He had leapt into the skies, in some random direction. Knowing he had to get away from the powerful Surfer. Galactus immediately contacted the Surfer via telepathic ways. "He's gone. Leaping great distances. Find him, Surfer. Tracing back his history, he's defeated the mightiest of heroes in his past. We can't lose him…" The Galactus spoke, ordering the Surfer to move. The Surfer leapt onto his board and turned to witness the helicopters swooping off into the distance. A piercing noise of a powerful jet engine could be heard. Above the Surfer, a fighter jet flew by which was obviously attempting to reach the Hulk. The Surfer knew this would only fuel the Hulk's anger. He closed his eyes, as the board hovered. Within a second, he was already flying through the sky. The Surfer was hesitant to make his move, yet knew he had no choice.
The lone pilot of the fighter jet tried to attempt a lock on the ever moving Hulk. Leaping from rock to rock, the Hulk gained great distances with each jump. The pilot was distracted by the figure beside the jet. There beside it, was the Silver Surfer. On his board, turning to the pilot the Surfer made hand gestures to order the pilot to leave the Hulk away. The pilot didn't take any particular interest in what the Surfer was asking. "Well, it's your funeral…" The Surfer thought to himself. He gained some speed to reach the Hulk before the jet did. The Hulk leapt once more, only to stop on a cliff's edge. He began to pant heavily, before seeing the Surfer and the jet behind. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. The Surfer hovered in front as the jet flew on by. It was definitely going to return in the opposite direction, but in the meantime the Surfer greeted the Hulk. "Hey, Bruce I'm afraid this may be the last time you'll see me. Now, I want this over and done with before that jet turns back at us…" The Surfer spoke, as he was suddenly rudely interrupted by the sound of a jeep a few metres away. It was Gabriel driving the jeep; who now had the super soldier serum running through him. The jeep's brakes were used vigorously, as it creates a wave of sand that hits the Surfer's eyes. Gabriel stepped out, and slammed the door shut. The Hulk breathed heavily still, as he looked upon Gabriel Jones. The Surfer brushed the sand away from his arms, and questioned Gabriel. "Excuse me, but what's your intention of being here?" He wondered. Gabriel looked at the Surfer, and answered before he reached for his gun. "My name is Gabriel Jones. I command the 'Deltite' super soldiers, of S.H.I.E.L.D. I was commanded to neutralise an alien threat, with the use of my men. Yet, someone intervened and killed a few. That monster who murdered them, being Bruce Banner before us. So, I have two opponents to destroy right now…" Gabriel pointed at the Surfer, and then the Hulk. The Surfer didn't reply to Gabriel, he just smiled softly. The Hulk looked at them both, confused as to what they were speaking about. Yet, he always seemed to pick up on the certain words which would worry Bruce Banner. "Destroy…?" The Hulk wondered. The Surfer knew it was best not to respond, yet Gabriel didn't hesitate too. "Yes, Bruce. Destroy you. Kill you. Rid you of the world, forever. Finally get you off this planet, you miserable waste of gamma radiation." Gabriel said, as he loaded his gun. Surely, a gun wouldn't harm the Hulk…a missile can't even make a slight wound. He pressed the trigger, yet the bullet didn't attempt to penetrate through the Hulk's skin…he fired at the Surfer. The Silver Surfer's telekinetic powers stopped the bullet a few inches before it made a hit through his skull. In that time he concentrated to stop the bullet, he didn't realise Gabriel was already running towards the Hulk. The Hulk gritted his teeth fiercely and clenched his fists. Gabriel leapt into the air, and landed an extremely strong right armed punched across the Hulk's face. The Hulk's anger built up, yet he was shocked to feel a slight pain even from Gabriel. The Hulk stepped back, as Gabriel took another jump. All the Silver Surfer could do in the situation, was watch on. Gabriel reached for a large knife in his left pocket and pulled it out. He stabbed Hulk through the neck, using his left hand. This was the pinnacle for the Hulk. In a burst of such aggression, he literally picked up Gabriel. The Hulk's whole left hand began to crush the bones in Gabriel's body. Whilst this was happening, the Surfer noticed the return of the jet. With a great throw, Gabriel was sent flying through the air. The Surfer noticed what was going to happen. Gabriel would be killed by a collision into the jet. Gabriel actually screamed in pain as he closed his eyes. The main reason why, was because the Hulk actually didn't intend to throw him. The Hulk stood there confused, holding the left arm of Gabriel. He opened his eyes, only to witness the jet flying towards him. So, he closed his eyes. Within a few seconds, he collided straight into the fighter jet. A large explosion followed, which was easily the death of Gabriel Jones. The fighter jet had been destroyed, and Gabriel had been killed. The explosion filled the Hulk with a passion he always felt whilst he was on a rampage. Seeing ultimate destruction, he always wanted to create more.
The Silver Surfer was shocked, to say the least. He walked up beside the Hulk, and commented on his actions. "You see, that's the kind of power you have. That's why I need to get rid of you, unfortunately. Bruce Banner, you're a great person…I'm…sorry." He claimed. The Surfer closed his eyes and rose up his right palm. He turned his arm to the direction of the Hulk. "Please forgive me in the afterlife…" He thought. The Hulk turned to the Surfer, which was the last thing he'd ever see. The Surfer used his cosmic powers, and made the whole area around him flash. The Surfer had to close his eyes, as the Hulk was levitated into the air. He was angered, confused. The Hulk was immobile, he couldn't move a muscle. Yet, he felt a strange pain within his muscles. The colour of the Hulk changed, he even turned grey. The Hulk had never felt so much psychical pain before, which is saying a lot. The Hulk yelled in pain, and then finally…the Hulk was no more. He had disappeared, the Hulk was vaporised into thin air. Bruce Banner was taken alongside his alter ego. The threat which once plagued the planet Earth had gone; forever. Nothing was left of the Hulk, or Bruce. The Surfer collapsed onto his knees on the cliff side, all alone. He felt drained; the Surfer used too much cosmic power to extinguish the Hulk. He completed the mission, so he climbed up onto his surfboard. It floated into the air slowly, before disappearing into the sunset…
One week later.
There he lay in his hospital bed. Tubes all connected into his body, to keep this man alive. He was found in an extremely bad shape, with one arm missing. His face was unrecognisable, due to the bruises and cuts. This recovering man was none other than Gabriel Jones. He hadn't died during the jet incident, yet survived to recuperate in a hospital bed. In this exact hospital, Gabriel was going to see an unexpected visitor. At the hospital desk stood a familiar man, a well known man. He wasn't wearing his trademark eye patch over his left eye. Considering the advances in today's technology, the leader of S.H.I.E.L.D had a techno organic left eye. No need for a patch, as this new technologically advanced eyesight helped in various ways. He stood in front of the desk, and questioned whether they had a 'Gabriel Jones' in the recovery ward. They did, and directed him to that exact ward. He also questioned about another man, yet couldn't be heard over the noise commotion about some shocking news on the television set. Nick Fury sighed to himself, and walked down the corridor.
As Gabriel rested, the curtains were drawn. Fury stood beside Gabriel. "My, you look a mess Jones. How are you coping?" He questioned. Gabriel couldn't speak all too well, yet the look in his eyes gave Fury a feeling of guilt. Fury was holding some documents, and sat beside Gabriel. "Once I heard what happened…there was an overwhelming bad feeling. This is partly, my fault…" Fury claimed. He was about to hand these documents to Gabriel, only to realise he only had one hand left. Fury smiled slightly, and then opened the documents. "You're going to hate me even more, for this. We have a serious problem, with the Silver Surfer matter." He shuffled through a few photos of the Surfer, to come across satellite pictures of Bruce Banner's last transformation. "We knew of the utter destruction this Silver Surfer was capable of. We actually knew…for years. We came across data stored on alien technology, about some 'planet devourer'. We even had records of some unknown African tribe that worshipped 'The Surfer'. Look, here are some pictures of the paintings they made. Bizarrely enough, they even created monuments. This was a rather obscure religion from these Africans, yet we had tons of information on this attack. S.H.I.E.L.D or S.W.O.R.D didn't act upon these mere worries. Until a month ago, when we finally decided to take action. Unfortunately, it was too late. Reed Richards can't be contacted anymore, after his wife had filed in the divorce papers. I'm sure you're not really concerned about that…" Fury finished, and awaited the slightest response. "Look, Jones. I apologise for this, it's mainly my fault. I should have acted a lot sooner. You wouldn't be here, if it weren't for me. Considering you've been a long, trusting friend…I'll will get that alien. Bruce Banner couldn't be blamed; we all know this was an unfortunate mistake. It came out of the blue. A mistake which was created by the presence of the alien, Silver Surfer. I've already ordered you an extra arm, to be grafted onto your shoulder within this week. I hope you can forgive me, Jones. I'll leave these documents behind, if you want to chase up this case. We'll be awaiting your return." Fury finished, and placed the documents beside his desk. "I'm sorry they aren't flowers…" Fury spoke, as he walked out.
As he shuffled through his pockets down the hallway, he heard the faint sound of his voice coming from one ward. Fury stood there, just to make sure it was his name he could actually hear. So, once he clarified that; he stepped into the ward beside Gabriel's. It was none other, than the badly bruised and scarred Bruce Banner. He lay there in the hospital bed, with various tubes plugged into him. His left eye opened slightly, to stare at Nick Fury. "Banner…We thought you were dead. How the hell are you?" Fury questioned, shuffling his coat. "My glasses…are they beside me?" Banner wondered. Fury stepped closer, to hand over Banner's glasses. "Thanks," Bruce spoke, as he could see clearer now. "My, you've changed Fury. Where's the eye patch gone?" Banner questioned. Fury smiled, and then replied. "Oh, it's a surgical tech implant. Like it?" Fury asked. "Not really. I prefer you with the eye patch. It gives you more of an edge, in my opinion." Banner answered. Fury turned to look at Banner's charts. "This is a funny coincidence. Gabriel Jones is in the ward down the corridor…he wouldn't be best pleased to know the man that ripped off his arm is a mere few metres away." Fury said. Bruce turned to the window, "Fury. I need to say something…it's about, the Hulk."
Fury sat down and listened intently. "That alien being, has immense powers. All my life I had tried to find a cure, for my transformation. Without this alien breaking a sweat, he completely tore the monster apart. I'm worried, Fury. Before the Hulk was killed off, I felt myself actually speaking to it. It warned me, the Hulk being…was actually scared…"
MacDonald Gargan, I never knew the guy personally. He doesn't seem to have any well known relations. Apparently, Mac was working in the printing factory by the port. Oh, I've made sure. The guy has no relatives, whatsoever. Poor guy, I guess that means nobody will miss him. Searching through his crime history, I was shocked to realise this guy was one of Spider-man's old villains, none other than the Scorpion. I remember him rather well, walked around in some green costume. He was quite the villain for ol' Spider-man, with that stinging tail. Yet he retired from all that, years ago. Looks like he destroyed all evidence of his past life. Yet, if he decided to live a different way…surely no one would hold a grudge for this much time. So then, I wonder…why was MacDonald Gargan just found outside his apartment, murdered?