After throwing Godzilla back into the lake, Clark dusted himself off, preparing to return home.
There wasn't much to take care of—after all, he hadn't brought anything with him. When moving between familiar places, Clark could simply open a portal and step through.
When he returned home, he found an unexpected guest waiting for him—Banner, whom he had accidentally left behind in Japan.
"Banner? What brings you here today? Have the results come in?" Clark asked, knowing Banner wouldn't show up at his place for no reason.
"Yes. I've finished analyzing the blood sample I took from your Godzilla," Banner said as he handed over a report.
"The results are incredible. According to the tests, Godzilla's body might contain a naturally occurring nuclear reactor, one that supplies it with constant nuclear energy. But the most astonishing part… is its blood."
"Based on our research, Godzilla's blood appears to have the ability to purify radioactive materials. That would explain why the radioactive substances in the samples we received from Dr. Makimoto earlier degraded faster than expected—they may have been contaminated with Godzilla's blood."
At this point, Banner looked a little sheepish.
"Could you… get me more of Godzilla's blood? I've used up the previous samples on various tests. I want to try an experiment—see if I can extract a serum from Godzilla's blood that could neutralize the gamma radiation in my own bloodstream."
Clark glanced at the file Banner had handed over, but quickly set it aside. There were way too many scientific terms—he couldn't make heads or tails of it.
Instead, he said, "Banner, if you want more of Godzilla's blood, I'll get it for you. But honestly… I don't think you should be trying so hard to reject the Hulk inside you. I really think he's becoming more than just anger."
"You must've noticed it too—your Hulk is growing. At first, he was just rage. But now… he can speak a few simple words. You don't communicate yet, but maybe one day you could. Maybe coexistence is possible."
Clark didn't understand the details of the report, but he understood Banner's goal: extract the radiation-purifying elements from Godzilla's blood and use them to counteract the gamma radiation inside himself.
Would it work? Clark wasn't sure. After all, Godzilla wasn't originally part of the mainstream Marvel universe. And he didn't even know what version of Godzilla they were dealing with—Japan and the U.S. had made dozens of different movies.
The only Godzilla Clark had ever seen was from the 2014 version, but this one definitely wasn't that. The Godzilla he encountered had never made a dramatic appearance from the ocean.
Still, no matter what version this Godzilla was, Clark didn't really want Banner to erase the Hulk. As long as Banner could still transform, he'd be far safer in the chaotic Marvel universe.
"I just want to try, Clark. I've spent years looking for a cure. Now I have a possible solution in front of me. Even if I don't use it, I want to know if it works. Whether it succeeds or fails… I don't care."
"…Alright."
Seeing the determination in Banner's eyes, Clark agreed to help. As a friend, he could offer advice—but he wouldn't interfere in someone else's choice.
"Wait here. I'll go get you some now."
Meanwhile...
"Sir, the man you requested has arrived."
In a hidden underground lab, Killian stood before a disheveled old man with a long beard, brought in by his assistant, Eric.
"You're sure he's up to the task?" Killian asked, eyeing the man with suspicion.
He didn't look like much—messy hair, rotten skin from years of drug use, and an empty look in his eyes. Not exactly the image of the terrifying terrorist leader Killian wanted to stage as the face of the Extremis explosions.
"I know his appearance isn't ideal, sir. But he's actually a decent actor. More importantly, he has no government records. He can disappear into this role. People make mistakes… maybe he just needs a second chance. I think you should at least see his performance first."
Truthfully, Eric wasn't completely satisfied with this man either—but after searching everywhere, this guy was the best fit. He had no family, no children, no friends, and no attachments. He could disappear without a trace.
"Well then…" Killian said after a moment. "If Eric says you're suitable, I'll give you a chance. If you pass the test—you'll have everything you ever wanted. If not…"
Killian casually picked up a handgun, loaded it, and set it down on the table nearby. The message was clear.
"What's your name?"
"T-…Trevor Slattery," the small old man stammered, legs trembling under Killian's glare.
"Alright, Eric. Give him the lines."
Eric handed over a script prepared in advance.
"Trevor… begin your performance," Killian said, settling onto the nearby couch, ready to watch.
Then something surprising happened.
The trembling, terrified Trevor Slattery looked at the script for just a second—and then his entire demeanor changed.
His expression darkened.
And in a deep, chilling voice…he began to speak.
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