The darkness was every where, heavy, and smelled of ozone and ancient dust. Logan's consciousness was fadding, barely enough to register the shreds of sound. He couldn't feel his legs. He couldn't feel his arms.
"The timing is exquisite, Amora," a voice purred. It was smooth, cold, and carried an arrogance that made Logan's skin crawl—or it would have, if he could feel his skin. "Odin has finally succumbed to the Odin-Sleep. The All-Father is a statue, dreaming in his gilded bed. He will not stir for another day at the least. Asgard has never been more vulnerable."
Logan tried to open his eyes, but his eyelids felt like they were welded shut with lead.
"And the defense?" a female voice asked. She sounded nervous, her tone vibrating with a mix of awe and terror.
"Thor," Loki spat, the name dripping with sibling rivalry and centuries of resentment. "Only Thor remains to lead the golden sheep. And for that very reason, I have brought him a playmate. Look at it, Amora. A creature of such unimaginable rage, such limitless physical power, that it defies the very laws of the Nine Realms. The Midgardians call it the Hulk. I call it the end of my brother's reign. Only this beast possesses the raw savagery required to break the God of Thunder."
A low, pathetic sound interrupted the god's monologue. It was a wet, rattling groan.
"I... I don't... where..."
Logan recognized that voice. It was Bruce Banner. He sounded broken and confused, clearly like himself he didn't know where he was or how he got here.
"Please... stop..." Banner whimpered.
"Quiet, mortal," Loki snapped. "You should be grateful for I Loki, the God of Mischief, have bestowed on you glorious purpose."
Logans mind slipped back into unconsciousness, and the world went pitch black again.
Time didn't feel like it was moving. It could have been minutes or hours before the next whisps of sound pierced through the quiet of his mind rare as it was nowadays.
"As always," Loki's voice echoed, sounding further away now, "the Asgardians will claim they have emerged victorious against the siege of darkness. Thor will walk among the ruins, chest puffed out, seeking peace and offering mercy to those who sought to destroy him. He is so predictable. And that, my dear Amora, is exactly when I shall strike. When his hammer is lowered and his heart is full of false hope, I will erase him from existence."
Another blackout. This one was shorter, ending abruptly with a sound that made even the metal over his bones shake..
ROOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!
It was the Hulk. The stone beneath him vibrated. The air in the room seemed to displace, pushing against his chest with the force of a tidal wave. The sheer volume of the anger in that sound was enough to kick Logan's heart back into a rhythm.
Blackout.
Then, a sensation. Movement. Someone was grabbing his shoulders, shaking him violently.
"Wake up! Wake up, you stubborn man! Wake up!"
The voice was female, insistent, and sharp. Logan's eyes flew open.
The light was blinding. He squinted, his vision swimming through a haze of emerald green and gold. As the blur settled, a face appeared inches from his own. She was striking—long, flowing blonde hair that looked like spun gold, eyes the color of a forest at dusk, and wearing robes of deep green silk that clung to a form that was undeniably divine. Amora the Enchantress.
Logan didn't think. Not as feeling came back to his limbs. He reacted.
His hand shot out, his fingers locking around Amora's throat before she could even blink. He surged upward, his boots skidding on the cold stone floor as he slammed her back against a jagged wall.
CRACK.
The stone splintered behind her head. Snikt. Two adamantium claws slid out of his knuckles, flanking her neck like silver shears. The third claw stayed half-retracted, the tip resting right against the soft skin of her windpipe.
"Where am I?" Logan growled. His voice was a gutteral rasp, thick with the metallic taste of his own dried blood.
Amora gasped, her hands clutching at his wrist, her eyes wide with a mix of shock and genuine fear. "You... you are in Asgard," she managed to choke out.
Asgard. The name hit Logan like a physical blow. He remembered the movies, the comics, the shows. The home of the Asgardians. The Golden kingdom. It then came back to him in a flash, he remembered the green portal and the man with the golden horns.Loki but he couldn't tell her his name since he wasn't supposed to know it.
Yet still the rage flared. "What am I doing here? Why did that horned freak bring me here?"
"We... we need your help," Amora wheezed, her face turning a pale shade of blue. "The Beast... the Hulk... he will destroy everything. He will kill Thor. He will level the realm."
Logan's grip didn't loosen. "Why should I care about your people? And why is the big guy trying to tear the roof off this place? Last I checked, me and him were too tired to even move before."
Amora's eyes flickered with a sudden, deep shame. She looked down, her gaze avoiding his. "I was angry," she whispered. "Thor... he chose Sif. He chose that boarish warrior woman over me. I wanted him to suffer. I wanted him to regret his choice. I sided with Loki. We thought we could control the monster. We thought we could use him to humble the Prince. But Loki... his ambition is a black hole. He doesn't want to humble Thor; he wants to burn the Nine Realms. We made a mistake, Wolverine. A terrible, bloody mistake."
Logan narrowed his eyes. "Where's Banner? I heard him."
Amora's voice went small. "Loki... Loki killed the mortal. He killed the only one who could reel the Hulk in. There is no more Banner. There is only the Hulk now. An eternal, mindless engine of destruction."
Logan felt a cold knot tie itself in his stomach. Banner was a decent man. A victim of his own genius. To be snuffed out by a god for a power play... it sat wrong with him. It sat very wrong. Even if he thought him before he knew that the Hulk had a stronger healing factor than even him, he read the immortal hulk before.
He held her at claw point for a moment longer, his breathing heavy and ragged, before he retracted his claws with a sharp clack and released his grip.
Amora collapsed to the floor, sliding down the stone wall. She held her throat, coughing violently as the air rushed back into her lungs. She looked up at him, a weak, mocking smile touching her lips despite the bruises forming on her neck.
"You know," she wheezed, "on Asgard, men are taught to treat goddesses with a bit more... grace."
Logan scoffed, wiping a smear of grime from his chin. "I ain't an Asgardian, and from what I can see, you ain't much of a goddess. You're just another merk who played with fire and got burned."
He looked around the room. It was a dungeon, but a fancy one. Carved stone, glowing runes, and cold air. He was still in the shredded remains of his X-Men suit, the yellow fabric hanging off him in bloody ribbons.
"I need clothes," Logan said. "And I need 'em now. Then you're gonna point me at the green guy."
Amora stood up shakily, smoothing out her robes. She gestured toward a chest in the corner of the room. Inside, Logan found a set of Asgardian warrior gear—thick, dark leather breeches, a fur-lined tunic, and heavy boots reinforced with iron. It was sturdy, practical, and didn't have any bright yellow on it. He changed quickly, the heavy leather feeling good against his healed over skin.
"Follow me," she said.
She led him out of the chamber and up a winding stone staircase that seemed to go on forever. They emerged onto a high balcony overlooking the city of Asgard.
It was a nightmare of gold and fire.
In the distance, the legendary spires of the city were crumbling. Massive clouds of golden dust and black smoke billowed into the sky. Every few seconds, a flash of green light erupted, followed by the sound of falling masonry that echoed like thunderclaps across the valley.
"He is there," Amora said, her voice trembling as she pointed toward the grand plaza in front of the royal palace. "He has already broken the Einherjar. The Valkyries are falling from the sky. He is heading for the throne."
Logan looked at the destruction. Part of him—the rational part—wanted to just turn around and find a way home. This wasn't his world. These weren't his people. The Hulk would eventually be stopped by Thor or by Odin. But then he saw a group of Asgardian civilians—women and children—fleeing a collapsing building in the distance. He saw the way the Hulk was moving, no more like a man, but like a force of nature that didn't care what it stepped on.
"I'll go distract Loki," Amora said, her eyes turning hard. "I cannot face the Beast, but I can perhaps slow the Master of Mischief. The rest is up to you."
She vanished in a swirl of emerald mist before Logan could respond.
He stood alone on the balcony. He closed his eyes and summoned the system. He needed to know exactly what he had to work with.
[SYSTEM INTERFACE OPENED]
[SYSTEM...RECALIBRATING]
[BERSERK RAGE: RECHARGED (Ready for use)]
[AVAILABLE STAT POINTS: 6]
[VAN HELSING TEMPLATE: 5/10 SHARDS]
Logan's eyes widened at the stat points. Six? He did a double-take. According to the last mission prompt he'd seen, he was only supposed to get one point for finding the Hulk. Where did the other five come from?
He scrolled through the logs. There was a notification he'd missed during the blackout.
[BONUS POINTS GRANTED]: AVENGING THE INNOCENT LIVES LOST AGAINST SSS-TIER THREAT.(The Hulk).
"Well," Logan muttered. "I ain't gonna complain."
He looked at his Core boxes. Mutant Physique was at Level 2. He tapped it. A sub-menu appeared.
[UPGRADE MUTANT PHYSIQUE TO LEVEL 3]
[COST: 4 STAT POINTS
EFFECT: MASSIVE INCREASE TO CELLULAR DENSITY, SENSORY RANGE, AND NEURAL REACTION SPEED.
He hesitated for a split second, looking at his Mutation core. It was also at Level 2, but to upgrade it, he saw a requirement: [SKILL: HOT CLAWS].
He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Requirements. Always with the requirements."
He looked at the Hot Claws skill.
[HOT CLAWS]: INFUSE YOUR ADAMANTIUM CLAWS WITH THERMAL ENERGY GENERATED BY YOUR ACCELERATED METABOLISM. SLICES THROUGH REINFORCED MATERIAL WITH 50% MORE EFFICIENCY.
[Cost: 2 STAT POINTS.]
He looked at the battlefield in the distance. The Hulk's skin was already like armor. He needed every bit of cutting power he could get.
"Fine. Do it."
He clicked the Mutant Physique upgrade first.
The reaction was instantaneous. And like adrenaline it was a violent surge of electricity that felt like it was being pumped directly into his veigns. Logan's back arched, his teeth grinding together as his muscles expanded and condensed at the same time. His hearing suddenly exploded—he could hear the individual heartbeats of the soldiers miles away. He could smell the specific blend of mead, horse sweat, and fear coming from the city. The constant, nagging ache of the adamantium skeleton—the weight he had carried since the systems update—suddenly lessened. It wasn't gone, but his body was now strong enough to carry it without effort.
Two new skill nodes sprouted from the Level 3 Physique box:
[CARBON FIBRE MATRIX]: BONES ARE REINFORCED WITH CARBON FIBRE ALLOWING FOR IMMENSE STRENGTH AND FLEXIBILITY.]
[COST 3 POINTS]
[ADAPTIVE LUNGS]: IMMUNITY TO GAS BASED ATTACKS WITH LUNGS ADAPTING TO FILTER OUR GASEOUS THREATS.]
[2 POINTS]
He didn't stop to look at them. He dumped the remaining 2 points into Hot Claws.
A searing heat blossomed in his forearms. It felt like his blood had turned into molten copper. He could feel the energy humming against the metal of his claws, waiting to be unleashed.
He was ready.
Logan looked at the Van Helsing template. 5/10. He smirked. "Halfway there."
He turned toward the edge of the balcony. He didn't take the stairs. He dropped into a sprinter's crouch, his fingers digging into the stone. He exhaled, clearing his mind of everything but the target.
BOOM.
Logan launched himself forward. The speed was unlike anything he'd ever felt. The stone balcony shattered behind him, a small shockwave of dust and debris marking his takeoff. He was a blur of leather and fur, leaping from rooftop to rooftop, covering hundreds of feet in a single bound. The air whipped past his face, and for the first time in his life, he felt like he was actually faster than his own instincts.
The Plaza of Valor:
The Hulk had earned a new title, besides incredible and immortal it was now a god-slayer.
He stood in the center of the royal plaza, surrounded by the broken bodies of Asgard's finest. A troop of Einherjar warriors charged him, their spears glowing with runic energy. The Hulk didn't even look at them. He swung his massive arm in a wide arc, the sheer wind pressure of the move knocking the front row off their feet. He grabbed two of them by their breastplates and smashed them together with a sound like a church bell being hit by a sledgehammer.
Above him, a dozen Valkyries circled on their pegasus, raining down enchanted arrows. The Hulk let out a roar, reached down, and ripped a five-ton slab of gold-flecked marble out of the ground. He threw it with the speed of a bullet. The slab hit a pegasus mid-flight, sending horse and rider spiraling into the side of a tower.
He turned toward a group of Asgardian mages who were trying to weave a containment spell. The air was thick with blue light. The Hulk didn't wait for them to finish. He brought his hands together in a massive thunderclap.
P-KROOOOM!
The sonic boom was visible. A wall of distorted air slammed into the mages, shattering their staffs and sending them flying backward like ragdolls. Their spells dissolved into useless sparks.
The Hulk let out a roar that made the golden walls of the palace ripple. He started his march toward the great doors of Odin's throne room.
A lone warrior stepped out to meet him.
It was Sif. She stood tall, her shield raised, her sword gleaming. Her face was set in a mask of grim determination.
"Back, beast!" she commanded, her voice ringing out over the chaos. "You shall not pass this threshold while I draw breath!"
The Hulk didn't stop. He didn't even slow down. He lowered his shoulder and charged.
Sif was fast. She dove to the side as the Hulk thundered past, her sword flashing as she delivered a two-handed strike against the giant's flank. The blade hit his skin and sparked. It didn't even leave a scratch.
The Hulk skidded to a halt, turning with a speed that defied his size. He brought both fists down in a massive hammering strike. Sif rolled backward, the ground where she had been standing caving in, sending a spray of stone and dirt fifty feet into the air.
Before she could recover her footing, the Hulk's hand swept out. A backhand the size of a shield caught her in the chest.
Sif was launched into the air. She hit the massive gold doors of the palace and crumpled to the ground. Her armor was dented, and blood leaked from the corner of her mouth. She struggled to push herself up, her sword shaking in her hand.
The Hulk took slow, heavy steps toward her. The madness in his gaze was growing with each second. He didn't see a woman nor a warrior he saw an object to be crushed. He raised his fists high, his muscles bulging like boulders.
Sif looked up at him. She looked past the monster at the full moon hanging high in the purple Asgardian sky. She closed her eyes and whispered a final, silent goodbye to Thor.
THOOM.
A dark shape slammed into the Hulk's side.
And following the hit was a powerful ground shaking shockwave of kinetic energy. The Hulk was sent reeling, his massive feet sliding across the plaza as he crashed through a heavy stone pillar. The pillar shattered, burying the giant in a mountain of rubble.
Logan stood where the Hulk had been. He was panting, his shoulders broad and powerful in his new Asgardian gear. His claws were out, the silver edges shimmering under the moonlight.
Sif stared at him in shock, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "Who... who are you, warrior? Why have you come to this place?"
Logan didn't look at her. He kept his eyes on the pile of rubble. He let out a low, dark chuckle.
"Name's Wolverine," he said. He glanced back at her with a grim smirk. "And I'm here to do what I do best."
The rubble shifted. A massive green hand punched through a block of stone. The Hulk pulled himself up, his skin smoking, his eyes locking onto Logan. The green fire in his gaze turned a toxic, glowing emerald. He recognized Logan. He remembered the pain.
Logan's smirk widened.
"And what I do best," he growled, "isn't very nice."
He pointed a claw at the giant. "You want me, big guy? COME GET ME!"
The light of the full moon hit Logan's body, and the "beast inside" finally broke its chains.
It started with a sound—the sound of wet leather tearing. Logan's body began to twist and grow. He wasn't just getting bigger; he was changing shape. His skin didn't stretch it split and his clothes were torn apart. Logan reached up with his claws and literally ripped the human skin off his face, pulling it away like a mask to reveal the snout and fangs of a nightmare.
Pitch-black fur erupted from his pores, thick and coarse, shining like obsidian under the lunar glow. He grew taller, his spine lengthening, his muscles swelling until he was a seven-foot-tall engine of predatory destruction. His eyes lost their human brown, turning a brilliant, terrifying yellow that pierced the dark. His claws grew even longer, the adamantium blades now glowing with a faint, orange thermal heat.
[Image here]
The True Werewolf stood in the center of the plaza.
He threw his head forward and let out a roar.
ROOOAAAAARRRR!!!!!
It was so loud and so ferocious that the Asgardian soldiers who were still conscious recoiled, their hearts freezing in their chests and for a brief moment they saw Fenrir, the Great Wolf, returned to swallow Odin himself.
[Image here]
The Hulk let out a roar of his own, the air between them vibrating with the force of their combined hatred.
[BERSERK RAGE: ACTIVATED]
[TIME LIMIT: 10 MINUTES]
They lunged.
They met in the center of the plaza with the force of two colliding boulders.
CRACK.
Logan's claws hit the Hulk's chest. This time, they didn't skid off. With the added strength of the Level 3 Physique and the thermal energy of the Hot Claws, the silver blades sliced through the green skin like a hot wire through wax. Six deep, cauterized gashes opened across the Hulk's torso.
The Hulk roared in agony and hate. He grabbed Logan by the throat and slammed him into the ground.
The earth shattered. Logan felt the impact in every tooth, but he didn't feel the pain. The Berserk Rage had activated the moment the blood hit the air. He felt his healing factor working at a high speed pace, closing wounds as fast as the Hulk could open them.
Logan kicked out, his werewolf strength sending the Hulk stumbling back. He flipped onto his feet and lunged again. He was a blur of black fur and orange-hot silver. He slashed at the Hulk's eyes, his throat, his knees. Every strike left a smoldering trail of burnt green flesh.
The Hulk swung a wild, heavy fist. Logan didn't dodge. He leaned into the punch, using his Apex Reflexes to tilt his head just enough that the blow hit his shoulder instead of his skull. As the punch landed, Logan buried his claws into the Hulk's bicep and yanked.
SHRAK.
A chunk of green meat the size of a steak was ripped away.
The Hulk roared in pain—real pain. He grabbed Logan's head with both hands, intending to pop it like a grape. Logan retracted his claws, thrust his hands upward, and popped them again, straight through the Hulk's palms.
THWIP-SHLKT.
The claws went through the green flesh and out the other side. They were locked together.
The Hulk howled, shaking his hands to get the wolf off him. Logan stayed clamped on, biting into the Hulk's neck, his fangs tearing at the thick, leathery skin. They spun in a circle of violence, crashing through statues of Odin and Bor, tearing the very architecture of Asgard apart as they fought.
The ground beneath them was a mess of green and red blood. The air was thick with the smell of burnt hair and radiation.
Hulk managed to pull one hand free, tearing his own palm open in the process. He slammed his fist into Logan's ribs. Logan heard the crack of the metal-coated bone, but he just bit harder. Black like endless darkness spread along Hulks kneck where Logans teeth were, a dark supernatural corrosion eating away at the green giants healing factor.
They fell to the ground, rolling through the debris of the plaza.
BOOM. CRASH. ROAR.
Sif watched from the palace steps, her sword forgotten in her hand. She had fought frost giants, fire demons, and dark elves. She had seen the end of worlds. But she had never seen anything as terrifyingly beautiful as the Wolf that stood before her in the moonlight.