Emil Blonsky—formerly a decorated soldier, now a raging monster called Abomination—was the result of a very bad idea.
He refused to retire, craved power, and took General Ross's experimental Super Soldier Serum.
Then, in a cocktail of arrogance and stupidity, he exposed himself to gamma radiation.
Boom. Instant nightmare fuel.
You could call his birth a miracle—if by miracle you meant a mutilated version of the Hulk who managed to keep his sanity.
A semi-successful product, half man, half rage monster.
Aside from his horrifying skin, Blonsky was still… kinda human.
Even though he wasn't as powerful as the Big Green himself, at this moment, he wasn't exactly at a disadvantage either.
The Hulk in this timeline seemed nerfed—maybe the special effects budget couldn't handle full power. Either way, Abomination was putting up one hell of a fight.
"Damn, that's not fair," Leo muttered, watching from the sidelines. "Ross's army keeps pounding Hulk with rockets and bullets. No wonder the big guy's losing his temper."
He had to admit—General Thaddeus Ross and his men were absolute lunatics. Ruthless, calculating, and willing to do anything to take Hulk down.
They've really got it in for him.
Bullet Symphony
Ding ding ding! Ding ding ding!
A rain of bullets clattered off Hulk's skin like hail hitting steel. It didn't hurt him, but it sure as hell pissed him off.
Was this Ross's plan? To annoy him to death?
Because if so—it was working.
Hulk's chest heaved. His eyes burned bright green. His anger was boiling over.
And everyone knew what that meant.
The angrier he gets… the stronger he becomes.
"ROAR!!"
The thunderous roar shook the entire block.
Then Hulk snapped.
He charged forward like a freight train on steroids, smashing through the barrage of fire like it was nothing. Tanks? Flattened.
He leapt high and slammed down, each impact cratering the ground.
He grabbed a tank's cannon, ripped it off, and hurled it skyward—taking out a passing helicopter in one perfect throw.
Helicopters, cars, motorcycles, streetlights—everything became a projectile.
"Jesus Christ," Leo whistled, watching with awe. "That's some five-star rage therapy right there."
Within minutes, half the city block looked like a scrapyard.
Helicopters that weren't already smoking piles of wreckage scrambled to pull back, terrified.
Blonsky saw his opening.
He roared, rushed forward, and shoulder-threw Hulk like a wrestling pro, slamming him into the pavement.
Then, using his momentum, Abomination leapt high—ready for a finishing Mount Tai Press.
BOOM!
The ground shattered. Dust exploded. Hulk was half-buried in a crater.
Abomination raised his elbow, ready to crush Hulk's skull—
But before he could bring it down, Hulk's knee shot up—
Right between Abomination's legs.
"AAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!"
The scream could be heard from space.
Pain—blinding, soul-crushing pain—spread through every fiber of his mutated body.
Somewhere deep inside, something cracked.
Even titanium balls wouldn't survive that.
"Holy shit!" Leo burst out laughing. "He just pulled the classic low blow! Hulk's learning from experience!"
Indeed, the green brute remembered that same move being used on him once.
Now it was payback time.
Up on the command chopper, General Ross's face turned purple with rage.
"Damn it! What's going on down there?! Blonsky's losing control!"
"General, should we deploy missiles?" one of the officers shouted.
Ross didn't hesitate. He'd done worse.
"Do it."
Missiles. In New York City. Because of course, that's Ross's solution to everything.
Civilian casualties? Collateral damage?
Didn't matter.
These were the same people who considered nuking Manhattan a backup plan.
If you died watching the fight, well—too bad.
"Holy shit," Leo muttered, staring up at the military helicopters closing in. "This guy's actually insane."
He turned to No. 18, who was calmly chewing gum.
"You see this crap? This dude's worse than the terrorists."
"Humans are weird," she replied.
Ross's order came through the radio:
"Ex-Wife Missile—ready!"
"Yes, Husband!"
"Fire Outside!"
(Just for fun)
A moment later, the missile launched—trailing a white plume across the sky as it screamed toward the battlefield.
Panic in the Streets
"Holy f***, that's a missile!" someone yelled.
"Are they insane? This is still New York!"
"Ross is gonna get sued into oblivion!"
"Oh my God, run!"
Even though they were technically in the suburbs now, there were still homes—people—families watching in horror as a literal warhead streaked overhead.
Some screamed. Some prayed. Most just froze in fear.
The shockwave alone would kill anyone too close.
Even Leo was caught off guard.
"Holy shit! He really fired it!"
He clenched his fists, his face darkening.
"This Ross guy... he's even crazier than I thought."
The general was reckless, arrogant, and utterly devoid of conscience.
And worst of all—Leo could tell Ross had plans involving him too.
"Alright then," Leo said quietly, his tone turning icy. "If this bastard's got ideas about me, that makes things simple."
He smirked. "I'll show up later, let him try something—and then I'll crush him. Hard."
Because some people just didn't learn until you removed them from the equation.
And Ross?
He was about to become the first example.
Kill the chicken to warn the monkeys.