While Ross raced against time—moving troops, pressuring subordinates, and feeding his own spiral of obsession—S.H.I.E.L.D. was also accelerating its operations. The board was set, and every piece was advancing toward an inevitable confrontation.
Bruce Banner and Betty Ross had only recently arrived at Grayburn College, seeking temporary shelter and information that could help them in their ongoing escape. They had hoped that, at least for a few days, they could breathe without fear. But the world had never been kind to Bruce Banner…
It was there that Natasha had her first close contact with Banner—"alone."
She had abandoned her previous mission without hesitation to take on this new operation. It was a direct order and top priority. She understood perfectly the weight of the mission she now carried: to approach a man who, under emotional pressure, transformed into the most dangerous creature on the planet.
But Natasha wasn't just an agent.
She was a meticulously honed weapon.
And today, her weapon was her disguise.
She wore a delicate floral dress made of light fabric, her hair loose, giving her an aura of calm and innocence. The contrast was striking: anyone who looked at her now would never imagine she was someone capable of snapping a man's neck in less than three seconds.
When she smiled, she seemed like a kind student approaching to ask for directions—not one of the most dangerous spies alive.
"Bruce Banner and Betty Ross, it's a pleasure to meet you…" she said, her soft voice perfectly rehearsed.
The impact was immediate.
Banner and Betty tensed, like cornered animals sensing something wrong. But Natasha's disguise was so convincing that, despite their growing suspicion, neither of them reacted drastically. Banner merely narrowed his eyes.
"Who are you?"
Natasha raised both hands, the universal gesture of I mean no harm.
"I'm an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.," she replied calmly. "I'm only here to talk…"
The word agent fell over Banner and Betty like a bucket of ice water.
Both froze.
Their pupils contracted, and their muscles tightened.
Banner's first instinct was to look for escape routes. Betty's was to protect Bruce.
Natasha noticed everything. She stepped back, reinforcing the illusion of vulnerability.
"Relax. If I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn't have come alone. I wouldn't be wearing this," she said, gesturing to her dress with a crooked smile.
It was too convincing.
Banner and Betty exchanged glances, scanning their surroundings. No agents. No suspicious vehicles. Nothing. The tension eased—just enough for Natasha to continue.
After all, even intelligent and cautious men… tend to lower their guard in front of a beautiful woman who appears defenseless.
Only after establishing that thin, fragile trust did Natasha explain who she was and why she was there. She described S.H.I.E.L.D.'s structure, its global reach, and its covert operations.
Banner and Betty listened, initially wary, but every word from the spy was delivered with confidence. Gradually, their resistance weakened.
But the final blow came when Natasha revealed:
"We located you through the encrypted network you were using to communicate with 'Mr. Blue.'"
Banner was stunned.
He had always been extremely careful. He had always believed he was using an impenetrable, isolated, unreachable network. It had been his only safe way to seek help and research that could save his life—and the lives of everyone around him.
To discover that this network belonged to an international secret organization genuinely shocked him.
And, against all expectations, he believed most of what Natasha had said.
But nothing compared to the next shock.
"The objective of S.H.I.E.L.D. sending me here…" Natasha said with absolute clarity, "is to recruit you."
"What?" Banner asked, unable to hide his disbelief.
Recruit… him?
For two years, all he had known was fear, running, and humiliation.
He had seven PhDs—seven! Under normal circumstances, he should have been a respected professor, a renowned researcher, a brilliant scientist.
But instead… he had lived hiding in slums, abandoned warehouses, miserable dormitories—always on the edge of an emotional collapse that could unleash the worst.
He had lived in fear of the military.
Fear of being hunted.
Fear of himself.
No one had ever offered him anything—let alone trust.
Banner swallowed hard.
"You're not worried about… my other self?"
"The Hulk?" Natasha replied immediately. "Yes, we're aware of him."
Banner struck his own head in frustration.
"You don't understand! I can't stop it! When I get angry… when I lose control… he shows up! He destroys everything! Everything!"
His voice trembled. And in that instant, Natasha understood: he didn't fear the Hulk.
He hated the Hulk.
He hated the monster that had torn him away from his own life.
She smiled faintly—not in mockery, but in understanding.
"You've been trying to control it, Bruce. And you've succeeded many times. Almost every time you lost control, it was because General Ross forced you into it, wasn't it?"
Stumbling through his emotions, Banner felt his eyes burn. His chest tightened.
For the first time in years… someone besides Betty was offering him a helping hand.
Betty covered her mouth as tears streamed down her face.
"Bruce…"
She had suffered as much as he had—perhaps more. Torn away from the man she loved, caught between her father and her fiancé, marked by guilt and fear. The few days she had spent on the run with Bruce had already shown her the terror he had endured alone.
Banner squeezed her hand tightly. His watch began to beep, signaling imminent danger.
Natasha felt her heart race.
One second too much of emotion—joy, sadness, anger—and everything could collapse.
But taking a deep breath, Banner managed to regain control.
And that made Natasha step back mentally, impressed.
This… might truly be a viable chance.
"See?" Banner said, his voice trembling. "I'm unstable. I can't get angry, or excited, or… anything. And still, S.H.I.E.L.D. wants to recruit me?"
Natasha simply smiled.
A calm, gentle smile.
Like a spring breeze.
"Of course we do," she said, extending her hand to him.
Banner hesitated. Then, slowly, he reached out and shook it.
"Success…" she murmured in relief.
On the other side, Nick Fury—secretly monitoring everything—allowed a rare smile to form. Agents observing the operation quietly celebrated. For the first time, it seemed that the Hulk might not be a problem… but an ally.
However…
Before anyone could celebrate for more than a second—
BAMMMMM!!!!
A sharp blast echoed.
A hole suddenly tore open in Bruce Banner's chest.
Blood burst out—hot and thick—splattering Natasha and Betty's faces in an instant. The sound of impact still echoed as Banner collapsed to the ground.
Betty's screams shattered the silence, while Natasha froze in shock.
In a single instant, all the hope that had been built crumbled.
Soon… the other guy would awaken in his boundless fury.
---
(End of the World)
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A/N: Back when I wrote this Arc 3, a lot of people were bothering me—and unfortunately, some still are—about the supposed "lack of proper explanation" regarding the protagonist's acquaintances. Something that, by the way, was never actually necessary within the story's premise. Even so, some "geniuses" kept insisting there was no explanation at all and that the protagonist just magically knew everyone. Seriously… what the hell was that?
Is it really that hard to use basic reasoning and understand what's written between the lines? Do I really need to constantly stop the narrative to shove in massive flashbacks just to spoon-feed something that was already explained clearly in a single paragraph? Do I really have to draw it out, add arrows, captions, and maybe even a PowerPoint presentation just to make it clear? Because honestly, it feels like anything that isn't absurdly explicit already exceeds some people's level of comprehension.
If you need a script that holds your hand and explains every single breath the characters take, then maybe this story just isn't for you. Because, frankly, I was—and still am—completely fed up with dealing with people who refuse to use their brains for more than two consecutive seconds. It got to a point where I started seriously questioning the average level of reading comprehension of humanity… and, well, that wasn't a very encouraging conclusion.
Anyway, sorry for the rant—I know this may have been annoying to read. This situation stressed me out far more than it should have, to the point that it ended up negatively affecting all of Arc 3. Because of that, I ended up sidelining the protagonist a bit and focusing much more on Gwen, as well as stretching the arc far beyond what would have been ideal. Soon, once Arc 5 (Fate/Zero) is completed, this arc will go through a full revision—and depending on the case, possibly even a rewrite. There's a lot here that needs improvement, and that will become very clear in the chapters ahead.