The Thing vs The Hulk

The Prelude

By Curtis Fernlund

The Story Thus Far…

From the edge of reality near the Realm of the Crimson Crystals, Aron the Rogue Watcher has been gathering components for his grand scheme; the ultimate dissolution of the Universe: Omega! Not content with the order and values of his brethren; simple observation, the upstart has been hoarding the essences of those other dimensions beyond deemed not quite proper and different, building his power base and preparing for a new universe more to his liking. A world he never made, but soon would.

Over the months the Elders of the Universe; those beings last of their respective races have gathered together again to oppose the arrant Watcher’s machinations. But Aron, the Rogue has come in the possession of that, which will achieve his conceited goals. The Mundane Egg of legend now floats at the spark of Creation, the Rogue waiting patiently for his dreams to come to fruition while the captured Elders strive in captivity still hoping to destroy his plans.

Meanwhile in all the gathered realities there are those that know and strive as well against the Null; that event that will wipe away all that was to be replaced by a mad dream of power and dominance. There is little hope, yet there is always one that would be champion. In all the Multiverse, this is HIS story…

Near the Edge of What Might Be…

Aron stood before the viewport gazing out into the darkness. It was a casual pose, relaxed with his hands clasped behind his back as he held no fear of what he saw. The dark had never bothered him like it did his brethren. They could not understand what they could not see, old pacifist fools that they had become. Aron’s view was far broader, far more vast than any of them might imagine.

Even his mentor.

He had planned long and hard for this moment, right under Uatu’s ever-watchful gaze. It amused him that his mentor; that all of them for their name were so blind. How they could not see their true purpose. How they could not grasp the concept that they had been given knowledge and power for a reason. At times their lack of foresight was infuriating.

Aron smiled at his own inner musings. Humor too was beyond them now. Sarcasm, anger, wit, irony… Especially that last. If the Oldest of the Eld appeared at his side here and now they would not even begin to comprehend what they saw. Were they ignorant or simply so lost in observation that they had forgotten the time before? He did not know.

Aron regretted that he was so young, at least by their standards. He had not witnessed the current Beginning as they had. He had not seen the conjoining of the Trinity, the rage of Order and Chaos vying for dominance in the Rebirth, the final judgment of the Master Judicator. But now he would…

Light flickered and caught his unwavering attention. He turned his massive head slightly to better view the flare, hoping at last that the time was upon him. Sparks of creation fluttered in the otherwise empty void flashing wildly for a moment, then just as suddenly fading away. Aron sighed feeling another emotion that the Eld had long ago suppressed.

Impatience…

“Another defeat, Rogue?”

Aron tensed to hear the cold laughter of En Dwi Gast and frowned. Once again he regretted not simply silencing those old fools that had gathered together thinking that they might impede the natural order of things; the next obvious step in Creation. Aron however found that he needed their distraction. Waiting was tedious.

“Simply one of many false starts, Gast. You know that one will eventually take hold and start the inevitable expansion.”

“You’re a young fool, renegade.”

Aron turned at the new voice, his dark eyes focusing on the Elders held at bay at his whim. There were five that had inevitably come to call, to stop his grand designs. All had failed.

“Fool, am I, Tivan?” Aron asked staring at the old, prunish man trapped within the crimson crystals. His body was immobile, a shadow lost in scarlet but Aron had left his face free to speak, as were they all. He wanted them to see. “What new thoughts have you gathered, Collector?”

Four of his five guests tried to writhe in their containment. Five more old fools just as useless as his own race, if not more so. These, along with their loose ‘Family’ had chosen to follow their passions rather than simply observe; whether with some ultimate goal as was the case of Taneleer Tivan, or simply to relieve the boredom of their eons old existence was of no consequence. They had come to defeat him, failed and deserved their fate.

“Your ‘Mundane Egg’ may have broken,” Tivan spat, “but your new universe will never hold. Better than you have tried to recreate Reality and suffered the price. IF and as soon as your spark ignites, the Trinity will sweep you away as they did all the others.”

“You would compare me to the ‘Mad Titan’ perhaps or the Magus? Perhaps I am more in league with the Beyonder?”

“They all sowed their own fates, Rogue.”

Aron glanced at Ord Zyonz, the Gardener; fourth of his visitors. Rather than battle, Zyonz had come pleading for the fate of the current Reality. Pleas that fell on deaf ears.

“One will rise to defeat you, renegade. There is always a champion!” Tryco Slatterus fumed. Aron smirked remembering how this one had come mouthing insults and ready to fight. The self-proclaimed Champion of the Universe had fallen as easily as the rest.

“Your rants become tedious, Slatterus. Of course there will be conflict should the multitude of cattle inhabiting the universe become aware that their mundane and insignificant lives are about to be snuffed out like the weak flame of a dying candle. I expect it, and in fact welcome it. There are those that have stood against my visions in the past, diverting my attention briefly and blocking that grand view. I would delight to have them all in my sight once more so that I might see their resolve crushed, their hopes shattered as they witness the glory of the rebirth that I envision.”

Aron watched with amusement as the Elder raged impotently in his crystal at his words. He glanced about the chamber at the smaller stones set into the walls of the scarlet-hued chamber; varying flashes of red igniting with the Elder’s futile struggles in the other shards and fragments gathered over untold millennia. Each stolen spark fueling the central gem harnessing the rare genetic flaw present in all races spawned by the manipulations of the Celestials in ages long past. That gem of his own creation exploiting those variant flaws; altering and combining them into the perfect embodiment of life that would soon populate the grand, new universe that he envisioned. That population evolving with the next Great Event – the new ‘Big Bang’ that would erase the old existence with a new, grander order springing from the chaos.

An order, which would be Aron the Watcher’s to mold and guide.

“Your thoughts betray you, Rogue.”

Aron turned at the sound of the new voice broken from his reveries. He stared at the final Elder, Tath Ki; the alleged Contemplator of the Elders of the Universe. The diminutive humanoid’s wide eyes were open, his gaze meeting Aron’s in an unblinking stare. A tiny smirk curled the corner of his lips.

“How so, orphan?” Aron asked as he gathered his white robes about him and stepped closer to the crimson wall, which contained his captive audience. “Do give your insight into my failings, as have your brethren. I’m curious to your insight as to how I have failed.”

“I have thought long on your machinations since my incarceration, comparing and dismissing probable outcomes and the eventual evolution of this new Reality, which you wish to implement. I am impressed of course with your seeming devotion to the task, which you have set yourself. Like we Elders you chose a path to pursue, undaunted over the eons to bring your dreams to fruition. A grand scheme to be certain and in league of those you mentioned before, though as equally doomed to failure as were theirs. But as a wise Terran will one day say: ‘In every revolution there is one man with a dream.’

“You think I will fail, Mister Buhda?” Aron smirked as the little man’s eyes narrowed at the insult. He saw the others watching now, silent and hoping to glean any scrap of information, any flaw that they might exploit. Aron hated them all; Gast, the Grand Master, Tivan the Collector, Zyonz the Gardener, Slatterus the Champion and finally back to Ki, the Contemplator. There were others in their exclusive brood of course – the Architect, the Obliterator, the Possessor, the Runner… Even Ego, the Living Planet had been counted within their society. They were all arrogant fools of course, but only these five had deemed him worthy of their intercession. Five fools to observe his ultimate visions as they become Reality.

“Pray, do enlighten me, Mister Buhda.”

The Contemplator smiled serenely and bowed his head ever so slightly as far as his bonds would allow. When he looked up again Aron saw that his gaze seemed lost in the vast cosmos beyond and behind displayed in scrying; the raw, protean energies of Creation unleashed in dazzling fire and cold ice.

“I have considered long, Renegade, and like you and your brethren – whether you acknowledge them or not – I have seen things that have been, are and might possibly be. I have witnessed worlds beyond worlds and worlds within worlds as well; many things that should not possibly be, and those things that were unavoidable. And in all instances – every single one whether the outcome was triumphant or disastrous – there was one being that stood in the midst of turmoil, standing above all others struggling to maintain balance and unity. In this your bid for ascension shall be no different. As my brother, Slatterus has said; there shall be a champion.”

“Pfft!” Aron dismissed the Elder’s words with a wave of his hand and turned away again. Another spark lit the void, but again quickly diminished.

“As you, Ti, I have thought long and hard on this. Opposition is expected, but I have prepared for every contingency. Your own intervention was easily dealt with, as will be any that comes forth; the Lords and Masters of Order and Chaos, the King of Dreams and Nightmare, the Sorcerer Supreme…even the Trinity. Who might possibly arise to give me quarter?”

That Ki’s smile widened as he turned his gaze back on Aron. “Your Doom draws nigh, Rogue.

“Some Thing wicked this way comes.”

South of Highway 236

Floyd, New Mexico

“What’s this framistat here, Vic? It looks kind’a familiar.”

Ben Grimm reached up and tapped the huge, Kirbyesque component with an orange, stony finger. Power flared in coruscating waves; energy globules writhing in the container and sparkling madly at his touch. Grimm stared and rolled his Havana to the other side of his mouth letting out a huge plume of smoke as he leaned closer in fascination. It was almost hypnotic, and he did recognize the design, some strange contraption that Reed Richards might have thought up. Odd to find it here though; thousands of miles from Four Freedoms Plaza in an abandoned cave in the deserts of New Mexico.

“That’s a power converter, Grimm. Don’t touch it,” the almost robotic voice echoed from the far side of the cavern.

Ben Grimm moved his hand away but still scrutinized the bizarre contraption. He had been around Reed Richards long enough to know when the ‘Mad Scientist’ said don’t touch, you listened. It WAS fascinating though, the way it flickered and flashed through the greenish hues of the spectrum; kind of like a Lava Lamp.

Grimm was bored though…

This was the third cavern they had visited in New Mexico, the seventh in the southern deserts since they had left Seattle. Caves all, and well-hidden; each full of scientific wonders that would marvel Mister Fantastic. Gamma-based to be sure – Grimm had seen the energies often enough over the years – and all probably designed to siphon away that excess radiation that made Bruce Banner a monster…

THE monster; the Incredible Hulk!

Grimm knew the story well enough from the early days, probably better than most. Bruce Banner saving Rick Jones from the effects of one of the first Gamma Bomb explosions; a military test gone wrong. Subterfuge or miscommunication, it didn’t really matter anymore. Jones had been saved but at the cost of Bruce Banner’s life. He didn’t die but worse as his life, his every waking hour became a living nightmare.

Hounded by the military, by heroes and villains alike over the years, Banner became an irradiated monster that rarely got a moment’s peace. The Hyde to Banner’s Jekyll, the Hulk became the target of anyone and everyone, almost every government on the face of the world making him their scapegoat. Ben Grimm could relate, though he had never had it so bad.

But recently Banner had given up. The Hulk persona – always fighting for dominance in their shared existence – had finally won out. Bruce Banner had submerged his psyche into the brute and allowed him free reign. The jade giant was supreme and unfettered at last.

And the world had suffered.

Grimm had seen first hand the devastation that still gripped the once beautiful city of Seattle, Washington. Hundreds were dead after the monster’s rampage through the city. Buildings were shattered and the once-fabled Space Needle lay in ruin, testimony to the monster’s rage. S.H.I.E.L.D. and Damage Control were there now hunkered down for the duration along with the Red Cross, FEMA and dozens of other civilian organizations trying to salvage what they could from the devastation. People trying to put things right again and rebuild their lives; same as with any natural disaster.

He had seen it before of course. The military had hounded the Hulk for years; it had become an obsession with Ross and Talbot to take the monster down since day one. How many times had the Avengers, the Defenders and even the Fantastic Four been called in over the years to help stop the Hulk when he was rampaging? How many heroes around the whole world had stepped up to stop him? Grimm had seen it before, too many times. Hell he had experienced it himself just recently being the pawn of the Wizard, the Puppet Master and the Controller. It sucked, and Ben Grimm could always sympathize with the Hulk; just wanting to be left alone. That never seemed to be an option though.

That wasn’t what Doom had in mind however. Taking down the Hulk pretty much came with the territory after finding him. Grimm had no delusions that they wouldn’t get into a brawl, especially now and the way they both were. The remnants of the Wizard’s latest plan still lingered within him leaving him with a quick temper and a low boiling point to rage and simply a nasty attitude. He hoped they wouldn’t fight of course, but he knew better. It always seemed to go that way, best intentions aside.

Doctor Doom though needed the savage Hulk for whatever he had planned. He had wanted the Thing in the same state, but he had come too late. It had taken the likes of Moon Dragon and Jean Grey to ‘cure’ Grimm of whatever the Frightful Force had done to him; messing with his mind. Them and the Scarlet Centurion had used Ben Grimm for their purposes; first to kill the Fantastic Four and then to gather certain items, disrupt certain uncertainties in the Multi-Verse and create a path to some new… divergence.

Grimm had heard Reed Richards go on and on about alternate dimensions often enough. Hell they had all been to a few of them; places where things weren’t quite kosher or the future took a left turn at Albuquerque. The Scarlet Centurion had used Grimm and the group he had gathered to further his own machinations; to alter a few of those divergent timelines to somehow gather power enough to set up his own coup and alter reality to his liking.

Turns out though that the Scarlet Centurion was not all he seemed to be.

Grimm had learned too late that the Centurion was really Aron, the Rogue Watcher; a little bastard that had broken that race’ covenants because he felt he was apparently above the lesser chattel inhabiting the universe. Grimm shook his head and took a long draw from his cigar. He’d seen that before too.

How many times had Thanos tried to rebuild Reality to suit his own ends? What about the Beyonder or the Red Skull and his Cosmic Cube? Hell, how many times had that been Doom’s goal? And Grimm knew there were things going on even now in the world; lesser than the universe but still some despot trying to take over. He knew too that Victor Von Doom probably had a hidden Agenda – he always did. He was like Richards in that; always thinking ten steps ahead.

Somehow though Doom had figured out what was happening and discovered the Rogue Watcher’s plans. Ben Grimm had given up a long time ago thinking that deep. That’s why Richards and Stark and the rest got paid the Big Bucks. “Just tell me what needs to be clobbered an’ I’ll do it,” he said looking to another part of the cavern as something hit the ground with a crash.

Grimm saw Doom’s robots moving about an open space and assembling something; a machine cobbled together from pieces of Banner’s materials, old remnants of old attempts at a cure, he imagined as that seemed to be the main purpose of all these caves that they had visited. One of the bulky robots was standing over a bit of machinery that had apparently fallen during the attempt to recreate one of Banner’s devices. The robots were designed to look generic; pink and purple with emotionless faces and lumpy, thick bodies designed for grunt work – or defense, Grimm knew all too well. Grimm saw that face however looking shocked and regretful, if that was possible. It was probably an accident, and Reed Richards would have shrugged it off. Doom however was not pleased.

Doctor Doom raised his right arm and pointed at the robot. A moment later the mechanoid shuddered and sparked, vibrating as electricity danced over its frame. It reared back, and then slumped forward, the light fading from its eyes. It stood there solemnly as the other Doom-Bots seemed to work all the harder.

“Jeez, Vic,” Grimm said as he strolled forward flicking ash from his cigar. “I drop stuff. Hell, I remember one time – “

“They are drones and fodder, simpleton,” Doom said as he turned back to the machine he was examining. “Their purpose is to serve me, and serve me well and properly in whatever I demand. Fail me and they are easily replaced. Another will arrive in twelve seconds to fill the gap that that inferior abortion created. I shall adjust my timeline accordingly as I deal with ALL inferiors.”

“Y’know, Richards probably would’a just shrugged an’ got the dustpan.”

Doctor Doom turned on the Thing then and Ben Grimm actually thought that his erstwhile ally was going to attack him. He saw energy crackling about the monarch of Latveria’s armor, his fist starting to glow. As soon as it had flared however, Doom’s rage faded. Ben Grimm saw Victor Von Doom heave a huge sigh and he knew just how hard this was for the both of them.

“Stop comparing me to Richards, dolt.” Doom gathered his cloak about himself with a flourish; pomp and grandeur and all for show. “Do as I say and you may survive.”

“Do as you ASK, Vic,” Grimm said taking a deep inhale of his stubby Havana. He flicked ash. “Like it or not, we’re partners now, an’ the Hulk too soon enough. Before too long an’ you’re gonna have a dolt an’ a simpleton as yer army. You need ta be a little nicer.”

Doom stared at Grimm, his eyes burning red through the slits in his faceplate. Eventually he turned away. “You have your tasks, Grimm,” he said as he returned to his work. “Accomplish them.”

“Accomplish what?” a voice echoed from the cave’s opening.

Both Ben Grimm and Doctor Doom turned to face the entrance of the cavern. Ben saw Doom raise his arm again as a huge shadowy figure loped into the cave, driving forward on all fours in a strong gait. It took a moment for Grimm’s eyes to adjust as the creature moved out of the glare and shifted through the shadows.

It was large and moving like a huge dog but more fluidly; as though it had adapted to the rough terrain of the desert. It was a wolf, Grimm discerned after his sight adapted; big and furry against the desert’s freezing nights. It was calm he thought as well, staring at Doom who was threatening and only glancing his way as it neared. It stopped and looked about when it was just a few yards away, almost considering. It raised its hind leg and marked the spot. Grimm heard Doom’s armor power higher.

“Vic! Don’t!”

“Cretin,” Doom said after a moment lowering his arm. “I would not kill so magnificent a creature simply because it is curious. If it interferes…”

“He won’t.”

Ben Grimm focused on the new voice allowing his eyesight to adjust to the glare at the cave opening. He saw a silhouette rise from the surrounding shadows; a man-shape suddenly standing tall and proud. He was muscular and dressed in the garb of Indians – Native Americans – Grimm didn’t know the current politically correct term and frankly didn’t care. He wore leather breeches, moccasins and a warrior’s chest plate made of bone and fashioned with bones and beads, a wolf’s carcass draped about his head and shoulders. He carried a wrapped wooden staff; the mark of his status as both Medicine Man and First Warrior of his people. Red Wolf…

“As the monarch of Latveria said, my Brother was simply curious, as am I. Why are you here invading sacred, ancient lands?”

Grimm watched as the wolf padded back to William Talltrees, the current incarnation of the Indian warrior. He had met Talltrees along with the other members of the Rangers; that group of ‘heroes’ including Texas Twister, Phantom Rider, Shooting Star and Firebird; another West Coast Avenger that worked the American Southwest. Talltrees petted the wolf, scratching under his chin as the man squatted watching Doom more so than Grimm. Finally Red Wolf spoke:

“You’re far from your home, Ben Grimm,” William Talltrees said standing again. “As is your… friend? Strange bedfellows some might think, but THAT is not my concern. I’m certain there are affairs that will haunt my people by your presence soon enough, but Owayodata has bid me ask, so here I am. Enlighten me.”

Ben stepped forward and started to raise his hand, then thought better of it. He’d seen too much John Wayne and Red Ryder growing up. Grimm gnawed on his cigar instead.

“We’re lookin’ for the Hulk,” he finally said. He glanced at Doom and saw the other man’s impatience. He was surprised though that Doom was letting him take the floor.

William Talltrees nodded in understanding. He stood proud and planted his staff in the dirt taking a deep breath. Grimm glanced at the cave opening expecting the Rangers to come sweeping in on the assault at any moment. Nothing happened though.

“The Hulk is under the protection of Owayodata. He is one with the land, understanding the simple needs and wants of the people.”

“Pfft…” Doom spat lowering his arm and arsenal and turning back to his machinery. Within moments he was lost in his work. “The Hulk is a force of nature you ignorant fool. Your archaic beliefs may glorify him briefly, but in the end, myth will be replaced by reality and science and your ideals will be destroyed; devastated and demolished. Thus is the Force that IS the Hulk. Respect it now and live tomorrow.”

“My Gods say otherwise.”

“I’ve met ‘Gods’. I’ve yet to be impressed. Mark my words, savage.”

“Your words are noted, Doom.” Red Wolf crouched and hugged Lobo, the wolf, then sent him on his way. The wolf trotted from the cavern with a final, dismissive glance at Doom as the man stood again. “I beseech you, friend, Grimm. Turn away from this path. Leave the Hulk in peace”

“Shit’s goin’ down, son, like always. Big shit that’s gonna screw up everything. Yer Owayodata should’a told ya that. To stop that, like it or not, we need the Hulk.” Grimm took a long, final pull from his cigar and flicked it away. The cavern was silent, and he could sense that even Doom was watching to see what would happen next.

Red Wolf considered, seemingly staring at something in the shadows for a long time, finally frowning but nodding. He planted his staff in the dirt of the cavern and leaned his weight on the sacred totem of his station and seemed to sag in defeat. His eyes were dark and haunted when he looked up and spoke again:

“I understand. I know where he is.”

The Waste

Somewhere in the New Mexican Desert

“There!”

Ben Grimm squinted against the glare of the desert sun directing his gaze to follow where his companion was pointing. Red Wolf was hunkered down at his side at they stood on the edge of the tall mesa; one arm about his friend, the huge wolf Lobo, the other extended towards a small, sheltered heap of rocks nestled on the desert floor far below. Grimm couldn’t see anything from his vantage that might make that particular group of stones stand out from the dozens of others scattered about the area, but he trusted his fellow Avenger, especially in the ways of the desert. The Indian had been living here all his life after all and would know.

Grimm shook his head as he finally looked away after a few fruitless moments. “I don’t see nothin’,” he said taking a long draw from his cigar. He scanned the surrounds; the vast desert stretching out all around in every direction. He could see mountains far in the distance to the East, pale and blue with the distance, and hills and other mesas nearer jutting up from the otherwise desolate, burning sands. There was scrub and brush dotting the rolling waves and he saw the occasional flicker of movement, though nothing he could identify it was so fast and brief. The great wolf however would growl sometimes, low and warning but then grow silent again at some far away threat. Or potential food, Grimm supposed.

“That is his nest,” Will Talltrees said as he stood to full height again. Grimm saw that his friend was sheathed in a fine layer of sweat from the pounding rays and dry, relentless heat of the sun. The man didn’t complain however, or wipe it away knowing that the perspiration was helping him to survive and keeping his body cool. It was times like this that Ben was actually glad of his own rocky hide. He didn’t sweat and it would take temperatures far more extreme than the American deserts could muster before he would start feeling the heat.

“He sleeps there occasionally, and eats, though my friends have said both are rare events.” Red Wolf whispered something to his lupine companion then and the wolf seemed to look at him comically for a second before finally turning and trotting off. Ben watched as Lobo sniffed about briefly along the cliff’s edge and then finally started down the side of the mesa apparently finding the path of least resistance. Within moments the wolf disappeared, lost to the shadows below. “Lobo will scout ahead,” Red Wolf stated, and that was that.

“The Hulk’s unique physiology compensates for the more mundane bodily functions you mortals must endure.” The Thing turned at the sound of the hollow, cold, almost robotic voice. Doctor Doom stood not so far behind him holding some device in his hand that glowed in various verdant tones of green. He was busy scrutinizing whatever his machine – some type of scanner Grimm assumed – was displaying and did not bother to look up as he continued lecturing. Ben wondered briefly if lecturing was a common trait in all ‘Big Brains’. It seemed to be in the one’s he knew anyway.

“In the times that I have encountered the Hulk I have scanned his physical and chemical make-up. His body absorbs the constant bombardment of the sun’s Gamma Rays converting that radiation into energy thus sustaining him for extended periods of time. When he does eat I believe it is more some influence of Banner’s latent weaknesses; some primordial urge to fulfill a more basic desire of his suppressed human form. When he sleeps, it is to dream; an affliction most beings suffer from, to relieve the psyche of stress. You are not so unlike the Hulk in that, Grimm, though it is Cosmic Rays that altered and affect you.”

“What can I say?” Ben shrugged. “I like ta eat.”

“I do register a higher concentration of Gamma radiation in the area that your ally indicated,” Doom said ignoring the Thing’s revelation as he stepped up to the edge of the mesa. He held his small device at arm’s length and Ben watched as the screen fluctuated wildly in the monarch’s hand. “There are of course other Gamma saturated beings on planet; the Leader, the Abomination and lesser known entities, but probability and my research suggests that that is indeed a place where the Hulk habituates.”

Doom paused as a long, loud howl cut through the otherwise silent peace of the desert. Red Wolf crouched immediately scanning the cluster of rocks far below, his body suddenly filled with tension and ready to spring. Grimm noted the man had no wasted movement in his actions. His breathing was calm and shallow. His head barely flinched as he spread his gaze over the vast land searching for danger. In his own way Ben thought Will Talltrees was very much like T’Challa, the Black Panther.

“Lobo does not like that place,” Red Wolf finally said after several long seconds, though he did not break from his vigil. “It feels ‘bad’ to him, or more accurately, ‘wrong’ though he does not have that word. And there is death amongst the grit and stone. The land is fouled in that place and he would avoid it. We should as well.”

“Ya got all that from a howl?” Ben asked flicking ash from his cigar.

“My brother speaks to me,” Red Wolf answered then tensed as though the hackles on the back of his neck had risen. He glanced at Doom and Grimm looked as well half-expecting the knife to finally plunge into his back. Victor Von Doom was simply standing there however, watching.

“You know. He speaks to you as well.” Red Wolf stood returning his gaze to the desert. Ben could barely see Doom’s eyes through the slits in his metallic faceplate but he would swear they widened. Briefly, but they did.

“Animal Tongue is a simple spell and one I keep in reserve for contingency,” Doom said. “I am impressed, however that you noticed.” Grimm blinked. That was a rare thing; someone impressing Doctor Doom.

“My God, Owayodata guides me. I am his eyes and ears, his voice and presence. I am his being and he is my spirit. He knows what you do, Victor Von Doom, and why, and he is watching; watching us all.”

“Pfft!” Doom snorted and turned back to his hand scanner adjusting a knob and toggle on the frame. “Another brittle, brass god like all the others too caught up in their loftier affairs to bother with those mere mortals that they allegedly watch over and protect. He will fall like the rest if we are not successful here.”

The Thing turned away from his two companions not wanting to get drawn into a debate between science and theology figuring they all had better things to do. Movement down on the desert floor caught his eye then as he saw Lobo running swiftly back towards the mesa and the trail he had followed down. A piercing cry echoed up at them; a howl of panic, or warning? Red Wolf turned towards the sound and Doom fell silent, his scanner folding in on itself and disappearing back into his armor.

“Uh… fellas…”

Red Wolf turned and started to run away from the cliff’s edge even as Grimm and Doom looked skyward. Grimm saw a shadow in the sky; a black dot silhouetted by the blinding sun and growing larger, coming closer as it dropped from the pristine blue sky.

Doctor Doom’s armor suddenly crackled with energy as he started a mad, useless dash towards his transport, which he had landed near the center of the mesa’s flat surface. Ben saw his robots scrambling from the craft as the Doctor shouted orders, the mechanoids all carrying bulky pieces of equipment as they lumbered away towards safety from the transport, the point of impact.

“Aww crap!”

Not being stupid, Ben dove for cover hunkering down near Red Wolf amidst a scattering of boulders knowing what was coming. He had survived it before and it was never pretty.

There was an explosion of noise first as rock shattered and the ground trembled shaking them all. Like in the grip of an earthquake the very mesa beneath them swayed and bucked. Plumes of dirt and grit billowed skyward as the sounds of rending metal and shattering glass echoed over the land.

The second explosion followed on the heels of the first; far louder and more violent. Light flared and flames burst free and soared skyward in a fiery fountain that lit the already bright sky. Grimm felt the heat as it rolled over him and he heard Red Wolf gasp. He knew that if he could feel the heat his companion must be in agony, but there was nothing he could do to help. Sandy dirt and stone battered the land as searing metal shards screamed past caught in a concussive wave that scoured the mesa’s flat surface blowing outwards unimpeded. Grimm reached out and dug his fingers into the earth as he started to slide. His other arm draped over Red Wolf to hold him tight, hunkering down until the blast subsided

And soon the noise faded. Grimm looked up at the scene but saw nothing but carnage and darkness. A cloud of ash and dust had settled over the mesa blotting out the sun and billowing skyward, casting everything into a staticky flickering shadow. The only light he saw was the raging fire that had been Doom’s airship now a twisted wreck of metal and broken glass surrounding a crater glowing of radiation; whatever had been in Doom’s ship now uncontained.

The Thing looked for Doom but he was gone, lost in the sandstorm. Red Wolf lay at his side unconscious but alive, somehow. Ben hoped his god was watching over him.

A crash of rending metal stole his attention away and the Thing looked back towards the inferno. He had to squint again against the grit flying through the air, and it took time to focus before he saw the massive shape rising from the wreckage. It was just a dark, exaggerated shadow but Grimm knew exactly what it really was.

It ignored the flames as it strode forward knocking gargantuan chunks of debris out of its path with a casual swipe of its huge arms. It growled as something else exploded behind it; a smaller blast of little consequence other than to annoy the creature and blow the dust around.

It kept coming forward.

And as the cloud dispersed Ben could see what he was facing now. He was larger than the Thing remembered when last they had met in New York City; massive and almost overwhelmed with muscle upon muscle. His green-hued skin glowed slightly as it rippled with every slight movement, stretched tight as he stalked forward ignoring the fire raging about him and basking in whatever radiation bubbled forth. His head turned from side to side as he scanned for danger; something he had known almost every day over the years, hounded by heroes and the military simply because he existed. He was ready to bolt, or fight as need demanded. And unfortunately need demanded they fight.

Ben looked to Red Wolf briefly and saw that he was still breathing but in a bad way. He shoved his friend deeper into the rocks hoping for whatever shelter they might provide then looked forward again but saw no sign of Doom, of course. He was alone again, as usual. He sighed…

Summoning all the strength and courage he could muster, Ben Grimm stood. After seeing the devastation of Seattle, seeing the utter carnage and death that the monster – and he was a monster now, Ben could see that – had caused he had to admit that he was possibly… maybe just the tiniest bit afraid of what was to come. He was outclassed he knew, in strength anyway. He had faced down most of the toughest beings in the universe without batting an eye; the Mole Man’s monsters, the Sub-Mariner, the Super Skrull, Gladiator, even Doom himself. But he had never before seen the sheer animalistic savagery of what he was facing now.

But as always, Ben Grimm, the Ever-Lovin’ Blue-eyed Thing girded his strength and slammed his fist into his palm. He had to do this and he had to win; the fate of all Reality depended on it. There was no one else. He was that guy.

He was the hero.

The monster looked his direction and growled, but then Ben saw a moment, just a heartbeat of what might have been recognition. But the last of the dusty cloud blew away and the anger returned. It was over.

The Incredible Hulk snarled and bellowed his rage…

And the battle was joined.

To Be Continued Next Issue…

The Thing VS. The Hulk: Round 2

‘Nuff said…