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Luke hit the wall hard enough to crater concrete.
It didn't hurt.
The demonic transformation had rewired his nervous system. Pain receptors now only activated for genuinely lethal damage—anything less simply didn't register. His sense of touch, conversely, had become more sensitive. An interesting trade-off.
Blonsky's mind was drowning in rage. The transformation had amplified every violent impulse, every aggressive thought. And the man who'd ordered him to submit? Who'd promised power in exchange for obedience?
That man was going to die.
The Abomination charged.
SHING.
A flash of steel. Blonsky's arm separated from his body and crashed to the floor.
"AAAAARGH!"
The super-soldier serum had enhanced his nervous system too—made every sensation more intense. Having a limb severed felt like... well, like the worst pain a man could imagine, amplified tenfold. The bone spurs were connected to dense nerve clusters. When Yamato cut through them, the agony nearly made Blonsky black out.
Luke held the demon sword casually.
He still couldn't perform Vergil's dimensional cuts—that technique required mastery he hadn't achieved. So he used Yamato the way Nero did: as an exceptionally sharp cleaver. Point at enemy, swing hard, let the blade's inherent properties do the work.
Given how sharp Yamato was, the approach worked fine.
Blonsky clutched his stump, howling. The Hulk cells in his blood would eventually regenerate the limb, but severe wounds took time. Time he didn't have.
"I don't have patience for this," Luke said flatly. "Die."
He lunged.
Blonsky dodged the first strike and countered with a leg sweep—three meters of gamma-mutated muscle swinging at Luke's torso with enough force to demolish a building.
Luke backflipped over the attack. Mid-air, Yamato flashed again.
Blonsky's leg joined his arm on the floor.
Another scream. The massive body toppled, suddenly unbalanced. Blonsky tried to push himself up with his remaining limbs, desperate to keep fighting.
Too slow.
Yamato split his skull from crown to jaw.
"Soul, life, spirit, will... give me everything you have!"
[Soul Harvest!]
Luke's hand closed around what remained of Blonsky's head. Demonic power surged, and the Abomination's soul was ripped from its flesh.
A massive orb of light emerged—and within it, Blonsky's face twisted in eternal anguish, mouth open in a soundless scream.
Luke made a choice.
He could preserve the consciousness, create a weapon with intelligence and memory. But that meant dealing with a personality. Agni and Rudra never shut up. Constant chatter, endless commentary, weapons that talked back.
No thank you.
Luke flooded the soul with his own demonic energy, erasing Blonsky's identity completely. The orb shifted from white to blood-red as its original consciousness was scrubbed clean—a blank slate, ready to be shaped.
He pressed the corrupted soul against the corpse.
Crimson light exploded outward.
When it faded, a set of equipment lay where Blonsky's body had been.
Gauntlets. Greaves. Pauldrons. All forged from the same material—black as obsidian, covered in vicious bone-spike protrusions that echoed the Abomination's original form. The aesthetic was brutal, primal, radiating an aura of contained violence.
Luke reached out and felt the name resonate in his mind.
[Devil Arm: Abomination]
The abilities were straightforward but powerful:
Strength Amplification: While equipped, physical power doubled. Pure muscle force, not magical energy—raw strength multiplied by two.
Bone Spike Extension: When striking—punching, kicking, any impact—hardened bone spurs would extend from the armor's surface, dramatically increasing penetration and damage. Like Wolverine's claws, but covering the entire limb.
"Gauntlets and greaves after all," Luke murmured, examining his new acquisition. "Not bad."
He equipped the Devil Arm.
Black armor flowed over his limbs and shoulders, the aggressive design making him look like something out of a nightmare. Despite the heavy appearance, his speed remained unchanged—the weapon didn't burden its wielder.
Luke threw a casual punch at the floor.
The reinforced concrete shattered, a crater spreading from the impact point.
He tested the defense next, having Wolfpack fire a tank shell at his armored forearm.
The round detonated against the gauntlet. No damage. No knockback. The impact force seemed to simply... disappear, absorbed or dampened by the Devil Arm's properties.
With this, I could actually fight the Hulk.
The thought led to others. If the Abomination made such an effective Devil Arm, what about Red Hulk—General Ross's eventual transformation? What about Banner himself?
More importantly, Devil Arms weren't exclusively personal. In the games, Dante had sold and rented his weapons to others. If the Abomination gauntlets could be shared with Tifa or the others...
His team had just gotten significantly more dangerous.
The kill had also produced a drop.
Luke examined the item with confusion.
A ring. Green, with a stylized lantern symbol.
"A Green Lantern ring? Seriously?"
He turned it over in his palm, baffled. This was a DC Comics artifact. The power ring of the Green Lantern Corps, fueled by willpower, capable of creating hard-light constructs limited only by imagination.
But this was the Marvel universe.
Luke remembered reading somewhere that Infinity Stones didn't function in DC's reality. Cross-dimensional items often lost their power outside their native cosmos.
Would this ring even work here? Marvel didn't have an emotional spectrum. There were no Guardians of the Universe, no Oa, no central power battery to recharge from.
He tossed the ring up and caught it, considering.
The color bothered him too. Green. If he'd gotten a Red Lantern ring—rage-powered, brutal, matching his demonic nature—that would have been perfect. Yellow for fear would have been acceptable. Even orange for avarice had appeal.
But green? The color of willpower and heroism?
"Maybe I can research it," Luke decided, pocketing the ring. "See if it functions at all."
He definitely wasn't going to wear it. And he wasn't giving it to anyone else either—if the ring did work, it might attract attention from cosmic entities. Marvel had plenty of those, and Luke preferred to stay beneath their notice.
For now, it would go into storage with his other curiosities.
Still, he thought, looking at the Abomination gauntlets covering his arms, today was productive.
One enhanced super-soldier, transformed into a permanent power boost. Plus a mysterious artifact that might or might not be useful.
The grind continued.