New York, the top floor of Stark Tower.
This place is less of an apartment and more of a futuristic lair blending technology and luxury.
Outside the massive floor-to-ceiling windows lies the breathtaking skyline of Manhattan, while the interior is filled with streamlined minimalist design, hidden smart devices, and some abstract art pieces that look incredibly expensive.
The air circulation system maintains the temperature and humidity at optimal levels, and the air carries a faint scent of cedar and ozone.
At this moment, in the spacious living room, the atmosphere is subtly different.
Artoria sits on a large, soft white sofa, having changed back into her usual simple clothing, though her face still bears the pallor of lingering exhaustion.
Minerva stands quietly behind and to the side of her sofa, still in that sharp, dark gray casual outfit. Her tinted glasses hide her optical sensors, but her posture is ramrod straight, her presence impossible to ignore, like the perfect statue of a guardian.
Opposite them, Tony Stark sinks into another sofa, his posture lazy, holding a glass of whiskey on the rocks. However, his eyes are sharp, darting from time to time toward Artoria, then to Minerva, and finally, he cannot help but glance toward the corner of the living room at the massive open kitchen island, which has been temporarily repurposed for tea service.
By the island, Dr. Banner is somewhat flustered, attempting to pour a pot of freshly boiled water into an exquisite porcelain teapot.
He has changed into the well-fitting casual clothes provided by Tony, his hair is combed, and his beard is trimmed, but the exhaustion deep in his eyes and a trace of lingering terror remain evident.
His movements are very careful, as if he is afraid that one unsteady motion might cause him to crush the teapot, or worse.
Pepper Potts (who insisted that Artoria call her Pepper) smiles nearby, encouraging him with her gaze and occasionally whispering reminders like, "The tea leaves are in the silver canister on the left."
Yes, Dr. Banner is here too. It is the result of negotiations (or rather, "enforced protective custody") between Tony and S.H.I.E.L.D.
After the Abomination incident, General Ross was temporarily suspended pending investigation, and his "Hammer" project became a massive scandal in the Pentagon and Congress.
As the key "source" and victim, Dr. Banner's situation is extremely delicate.
S.H.I.E.L.D. took him away from the chaos in Nevada under the guise of "assisting with the investigation" and "providing necessary protection," while Tony provided this temporary refuge—after all, the security and comfort of Stark Tower are top-tier, and besides, "she" is here.
"So," Tony takes a sip of his drink, breaking the somewhat overly quiet air, his gaze turning to Artoria. "Herrscher of Finality? That sounds much cooler than 'Aerith' or 'Magical Girl'."
"Wielding finality, defining order, negating existence... Wow, this title and scope of business are much grander than my 'Iron Man'. Jarvis, make a note of it. When developing new armor in the future, we might consider using 'Finality' or 'Herrscher' as code names. We can discuss the copyright fees later."
He tries to use his usual bantering tone to dilute the shock left by that battle, but the sense of inquiry in his voice is thick and inseparable.
Artoria picks up the warm water that Minerva poured for her, which is at the perfect temperature, and takes a light sip. "It's just a code name, Mr. Stark. It represents the essence and manifestation of a power, no more special than your 'Iron Man'."
"Come on," Tony puts down his glass and leans forward. "'Iron Man' is a combination of my brilliant brain and a pile of scrap metal. What you did... you directly rewrote local physical rules, turning a bunch of murder weapons into kindergarten playdough. That's completely on a different dimension. Seriously, what are you? An alien? A visitor from another dimension? Or some kind of... ancient god that just woke up?"
His question is blunt, even a bit rude, but it also voices the inner thoughts of everyone present except Minerva (including Dr. Banner, who seems to be concentrating on making tea but is actually pricking up his ears). Pepper also looks at Artoria, her eyes curious and cautious.
Artoria sets down the water glass and meets Tony's gaze calmly. "I am Artoria, a... Traveler with some special abilities, temporarily settling here. The source of my power is complex, involving the... convergence and manifestation of the rules of different Worlds. You can understand it as me having the ability to connect with and 'roleplay' certain specific 'concepts' or 'existential templates.' 'Aerith' is one of them, leaning toward healing and purification; 'Herrscher of Finality' is another, leaning toward defining order and adjudicating existence. They are all me, but not entirely me."
She chooses a response that is relatively honest but leaves plenty of room for interpretation. Revealing the concepts of "roleplay" and "templates" is enough to explain the different ability systems she has displayed, without needing to delve into core secrets like the system, the Projection, or traversing Worlds.
Tony rubs his chin, his eyes flashing with the light of rapid thinking. "'Roleplaying' conceptual templates? Like putting on armor with different functions? But armor is external; your changes... are more fundamental. And, does this 'connection' and 'roleplay' have a price? Just like Dr. Banner and his big green friend?" He glances at Dr. Banner.
Dr. Banner's movements in making the tea freeze for a moment.
"Any use of power that transcends the norm consumes energy and imposes a burden," Artoria admits frankly, "but it is different from Dr. Banner's situation. My 'changes' are controllable and temporary; they do not alter my essential consciousness, nor do they leave behind an 'other me' that cannot be controlled." She looks at Dr. Banner, her tone gentle. "Dr. Banner's situation is an accident and a tragedy; it is the erosion and kidnapping of an individual by power, not the proper way to obtain it."
Dr. Banner finally finishes making the tea and walks over, carrying the tea tray somewhat awkwardly. He places a cup of black tea gently on the coffee table in front of Artoria, sets one down for Pepper and Tony each, and then sits carefully on the edge of the sofa, holding his own cup.
"Thank you... thank you, Miss Artoria." Dr. Banner's voice is somewhat dry. He lowers his head, looking at the dark tea swirling in his cup. "Not just for this time... but also in New York, in Culver... although my memory is very blurry, I can feel... that you helped me and calmed... him down. And this time, you dealt with that... monster, and... didn't hurt me." He takes a deep breath and looks up, his eyes filled with sincere gratitude and confusion. "Why? We... I don't even really know you. I am a... trouble, a walking disaster."
"Because the one who needs help is not 'Hulk,' but Bruce Banner." Artoria looks at him, her voice clear and peaceful. "You have endured pain you shouldn't have, tortured by power you cannot control. Helping you, stopping the disaster caused by you, is the right thing to do. As for being trouble..." She shakes her head slightly. "The ones causing trouble are General Ross's ambition and his unethical experiments, not you, and not the power within you itself. Hulk is the external manifestation of your pain and fear when they are out of control, but he himself is not necessarily just a 'disaster'."
Dr. Banner is stunned, a flash of bewilderment and... a faint glimmer of hope crossing his eyes. "You... you mean Hulk... he himself?"
"I have seen him, twice," Artoria says. "In New York, his final gaze was one of confusion and a trace of... hesitation after listening to advice. In Nevada, when he saw me, it was first confusion, then a kind of... reliance, like seeing an existence that could calm his pain. He rages because he bears your pain, fear, and the constant stimulation and hostility from the outside World. But his core may not be just a desire for destruction."
Tony raises an eyebrow: "Are you saying that the big green guy is actually a cranky baby at heart who needs to be coaxed?"
Pepper gently pats him, signaling him not to speak nonsense.
But Artoria nods, looking at Dr. Banner: "You could understand it that way, though it's not accurate. Hulk is a mixture of your subconscious self-protection mechanism and primal power; his intelligence is perhaps like a child's, and his emotions are direct and intense. The more you fear him, resist him, and view him as an enemy and a disease that needs to be eradicated, the more violent he becomes, because your resistance exacerbates his anxiety and your pain, forming a vicious cycle."
Dr. Banner's hands tremble slightly, and the water in the teacup spills out. "Then what should I do? I've tried everything! Meditation, breathing techniques, medication... nothing works! As long as my emotions are agitated, or I am threatened, he will come out!"
"Perhaps," Artoria chooses her words carefully, "you could try... not treating him as an enemy that needs to be suppressed, but as a part of yourself, an injured, angry, and needy... 'other you.' Instead of fearing and fighting that power, try to understand why he is angry, why he is in pain, and try to communicate with him before or when the transformation happens, to soothe him, to tell him that you are safe and there are no enemies that need to be destroyed. Just like... soothing a child having a nightmare."
This concept is too novel, perhaps even absurd, for Dr. Banner. He opens his mouth but cannot speak, his eyes fluctuating intensely.
Just then, a low, muffled, and clearly dissatisfied and aggrieved muttering sound suddenly echoes in the living room, as if coming directly from inside Dr. Banner's body, or echoing in everyone's mind: "Hulk... not baby! Hulk... strong! Hulk... hate pain! Hate... noise! Hate... hitting Hulk!"
This voice is like muffled thunder, with a touch of childlike petulance. Instantly, everyone in the living room is stunned.
Tony almost spits out the drink in his mouth, staring wide-eyed at Dr. Banner. Pepper covers her mouth. Minerva's optical sensors instantly turn toward Dr. Banner, entering alert analysis mode. Artoria also opens her eyes slightly, somewhat surprised.
The most shocked is Dr. Banner himself. His face turns deathly pale instantly, then flushes red. His hand loosens, and the teacup drops onto the carpet with a "clatter." Fortunately, it doesn't break, but the tea soaks into the expensive hand-woven carpet.
"He... he..." Dr. Banner is incoherent, clutching his forehead as if something inside is speaking.
"Hulk... hear!" The voice sounds again, seemingly dissatisfied with Dr. Banner's shock, its tone rising a bit. "White... warm... talking about Hulk! Hulk... know!"
This confirms the source of the voice—it is Hulk! In a situation where Dr. Banner has not transformed, his consciousness is actually able to be transmitted directly?! Is it because of the lingering effects of Artoria's previous "Finality's Consolation"? Or is it because of Dr. Banner's intense emotional fluctuations at this moment, and Artoria's words touching upon some deep connection?
Artoria reacts quickly. She stands up, walks to Dr. Banner, and squats down to look the panicked and distraught Dr. Banner in the eye, her voice becoming extremely gentle, as if she were truly speaking to a child: "Hulk, you can hear me, right?"
Dr. Banner's body is stiff, but the voice inside hesitates for a moment before sounding again, its tone lower, seemingly carrying a bit of curiosity and... caution: "Mm... white... warm... not hitting Hulk... let Hulk... no pain."
"Yes, I won't hit Hulk, I'll help Hulk not be in pain." Artoria's voice carries a soothing rhythm. "Hulk is very strong, I know. But powerful strength needs a smart brain to control it, right? Bruce is very smart, but he is very afraid, because when Hulk comes out, everyone dislikes it, things get broken, and people get hurt. Hulk doesn't want that either, right?"
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