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In Marvel As Dante

After a tragic death at the hands of his bathroom tile, an MMA fighter finds himself in front of an eldritch God looking for an (unwilling) schmuck to steal from one of the most dangerous beings in the Marvel Universe-- the Pheonix... Poor Axel is not doomed, however. He was granted the powers of one of his favorite game characters-- Dante Sparda...but the god never specified which version. --- Few warnings going in. 1. My fanfiction is being ratioed because people don't understand where it's going from the get-go, so allow me to remedy that. He will start weak and become substantially stronger over the course of 100 chapters or so. If that doesn't jive with you, I suppose this is not your story. 2. He makes mistakes--as do all reasonable protagonists. 3. HE IS NOT DANTE. He is a person with his powers. Don't expect a 1:1 personality mapping. You will be disappointed.

RaedaX_1 · Films
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180 Chs

Chapter 113

The conversation snapped out of focus when Jean hijacked my connection to show me something important.

A pair of obvious lady spies had entered the building using the same doors we had. They, however, hadn't worn disguises. It seemed like they didn't need to. The Hydra agents at the door waved them through after they recited a password. From their movement pattern, it was clear that they were after Betsy, Bruce, or the General.

Deducing their target was difficult without knowing their goal. It could've been any of the three. 

Banner was hot shit now that he had basically synthesized an improved version of the Super Soldier Serum that would ironically never reach its full potential without deathly levels of gamma radiation. 

Ross was an Army General. It was obvious why they might want him, and Betsy was the ultimate lever. She could've been used to pressure either man to do exactly what the agents wanted. 

I had an inkling who these women were, but I had to interrogate them to be sure. 

"Alright," I said, stretching. "I'll take care of it."

"Wait," Jean urged. "I think I can put them to sleep."

I stared at her, taken aback. "Already? Weren't you struggling with that about a week ago?" 

"I could say the same thing about you and smithing," she quipped, and I smiled. 

"Putting people to sleep didn't cost you a chunk of your soul, though." 

"Didn't it?" She asked, and I smiled.

"That got dark, real fast. Anyway, do your thing."

Jean shut her eyes, and her nose crinkled with a determined expression. Three tense seconds passed before her eyes snapped open. 

"It's done," she said like it was the most mundane thing in the world.

From experience, I knew lobotomizing them wouldn't have been that more mentally taxing. I shook my head. It was easy to forget how terrifying Jean could be. 

"I should stand watch here while you go deal with the bodies," I told Jean. "I would've offered, but I can't portal."

"That's fine," she agreed. "You'll tell me about the juicy bits when I return."

Jean started to walk towards the exit before she paused and offered one last piece of advice. "Don't be afraid to push inside their heads if you need to steal the formula before I return, but don't overdo it. Your mind is monstrously powerful after your...changes. You could lobotomize them if you tried hard enough and hurt yourself."

"That's…uh, good to know."

Jean left, and I listened some more, doing exactly as instructed. 

When I tuned back into the conversation, the heat had died down. Apparently, Betsy had played her part as mediator. After acquiring the Serum, the General specifically asked Bruce for his formula, and the Hulk-to-be flat-out refused him.

"It's what we paid you for Dr. Even if the formula doesn't work, you can't legally hold onto that information. It's property of the United States of America." General Ross said as he stuffed the Serum into his briefcase.

That was new. In the MCU, the accident that turned Banner into the Hulk happened before General Ross had a chance to leave with the Serum. The General was also more aggressive there. The plot was deviating because Ross was facing real stakes and a tighter deadline.

The plot was drastically changing, and the demons seemed responsible for it. 

"You paid for my expertise," Bruce said, "not my bedside manners."

"Bruce!" Betsy protested.

"Fair enough," the General chuckled. "If you've done your job right, then we'll be seeing a lot less of each other." The General placed the Serum in his briefcase and then left.

"Did you have to antagonize him?" Betsy asked as soon as the General stepped out of earshot.

"You know how I feel about the Government," he said, moving deeper into his lab. Reading his mind, I saw what he planned to do. He wanted to destroy all physical copies of the formula, including the encrypted files on his computer. "I actually trust your father more than anybody in the Government right now. At least he's somewhat honest with me. But I fear what they'll do with the formula. Something tells me it won't just end with foreign defense. And don't tell me you're buying the demon angle?"

Betty was a bit hurt at her comment about her father. "Why did you take the contract if you didn't trust him?"

Activating Angel Evade, I walked through the walls until I reached the final one separating the lab from the rest of the facility. I leaned against the wall, listening in.

"Because you asked me too, and the Grant money had been too good to pass up back then. Besides, I never expected us to actually figure out the Serum. Do you know how many people have tried replicating Erskine's work in the past 50 years?"

Banner pushed aside his table and popped open a safe hidden beneath a set of tiles. He punched in the code 4562. A second later, the door eased open. Inside the safe were his notes and a hard drive containing the steps he took to arrive at the final iteration of the Serum. He picked up the cheap bottle of Tequila resting beside the notes and tossed the notes and hard drive into an open waste basket.

"What are you doing?" Betsy asked Bruce, who was ruffling in his desk for a lighter.

"I'm Making sure the formula never gets into the wrong hands," he said, cracking open the bottle of Tequila. If they want Super soldiers, they will come to us. I won't give up the formula until I'm certain they won't be abused."

"Stop!" she yelled. "You're being paranoid. You don't even know if the formula works yet."

"It will," Bruce grunted.

"You tested it?" she asked, apprehension clear in her voice. 

"I've run the calculations and the simulations a hundred times over. It should work, and if it doesn't...I won't need the raw data. I have it all memorized."

"That's impossible Bruce. All those lines of code, all those writings...?"

"Come on, Betsy," he remarked as he mentally poured over the information. "When has my memory ever failed me?"

Betsy didn't reply, but I could feel the uncertainty pouring out of her.

A great deal of the information running through Banner's mind was Jargon, but I got the basic formula down, as well as the unintelligible other bits. I'd have to find a nuclear physicist and microbiologist to help me figure this out or learn enough to do it by himself, whichever comes first. Thanks to my upgraded Mind affinity, I had a feeling taking in and pushing out vast amounts of information wouldn't be that much of a challenge. 

My biggest concern was for Bruce Banner. He had a strong spine, and perhaps that was the problem. He was ready for a Government double-cross, but no amount of preparation would help him weather the tsunami of shit coming his way. 

If the news ever got out--if it hadn't already--everybody would be after him, from Hydra, who'd want to reclaim their supremacy over the Demons, Dreykov, and even the 10 rings. He'd also have Nick 'Motherfucking' Fury to worry about. I didn't envy him right now.

Still, I technically had what I'd come for. I could mint a hulk in theory if I was so inclined, but I couldn't bring myself to leave.

Banner won't be able to protect himself from the people who will be coming after him if he's not the Hulk. A large part of my plan hinges on Bruce becoming the most overpowered physical fighter in the Marvel Universe. 

The comics have proven time and time again, that no one comes close to the original. Not really.

So, I had one of two options. Babysit the couple 24/7 until Banner becomes who he's always meant to be or accelerate the process substantially by making Banner the Hulk.

It should've been easy: stepping into the lab, injecting Banner, and shoving him at the Gamma reactor. Instead, I grabbed my phone and called Fury, giving him a brief rundown of the situation.

Was I worried Fury was plotting something behind the scenes—of course-- but it was in his best interest to ensure the Hulk became who he was meant to be.

"I think Rin, a few of your agents, and maybe Kurt could watch from afar and be on standby just in case the lady assassins and Hydra swings back around."

"Great looking out," Fury said, "but Kurt is busy, but the Cap has been eager for some action. I bet he won't mind."

"Sure," I said with some hesitation. "He does understand what we're trying to do, right? We are letting a good doctor and man go through a horrific accident that will warp his body forever."

"Steve might have a golden heart, but my orders were clear. Either he follows your lead on this, or he sits it out."

I knew things wouldn't be as simple in practice, but I agreed with Fury for now. 

"I'll be waiting on your team," I said, returning my attention to Banner and his girl.

Moments after I used Telepathy, somebody barged into their office, startling Banner and his Girl.

"Ted," Bruce clutched his chest in surprise. "What did I tell you about barging in like that?"

"Never to do that, or you might fire me?" Ted said timidly but continued, "Just look at the news. This is happening downtown right now."

Betsy gasped. Bruce held her. "I am so sorry, Betsy…I—" Bruce was at a loss for words. I could barely hear the news through the screen but got a gist of what was happening.

General Ross was dead, and the Hulk formula had been stolen.