Back to GatefoldIssue #38 by Travis Hiltz
Featuring Hulk! |
"Tales from the Crossroads: The White City"
There is a place, a center point, of the vast construct we call the multi-verse, where all forms of space and time, matter and energy, all layers and dimensions of the multi-verse overlap. It is an oasis, from which a myriad of pathways branches off, a place where access to all planes of reality is within reach.
Set at the center of this is the guidepost, a twenty-foot tall structure, resembling an enormous candle in the process of melting. Protruding from its molten, waxy surface were hundreds of hands, all shapes, sizes and species, each one pointing to a different path.
The Crossroads had only two occupants, two exiles from their home dimensions that had found each other and formed an uneasy and unlikely friendship.
One was a large cloud made up of hundreds of fist-sized yellow puffballs, joined together in a collective. It drifted about the crossroads, occasionally a few individual puffballs would detach and float away, down a pathway to investigate the many portals into the realms beyond.
The other exile was a massive, brutish creature. His emerald skin bulged with muscle, clad in just a pair of purple briefs.
He sat, slumped against the signpost his heavy features vacant, drifting between boredom and a complete loss of what should be done next.
On his home world, this brute was known as the Incredible Hulk.
At one time a living duality, the Hulk had shared his existence with the human scientist Bruce Banner. Now, Banner was gone and all that remained was this behemoth, a creature of primal rage and animal intellect.*
(*Author’s note: see the Incredible Hulk, first series, issue 300 for details.)
Exiled from the earthly dimension as a last hope of protecting that fragile sphere, this primitive brute was granted access to the Crossroads, by earth’s sorcerer supreme, Doctor Strange, in the hope he could find a place, somewhere in the multi-verse, to call home.
The Hulk was a creature of instinct, reactive rather than pro-active and with nothing to nudge him to action this mindless slump had become his default setting.
The puffball cloud drifted over to the Hulk, tentatively extended a tendril and prodded the Hulk’s broad, green shoulder. The Hulk shrugged off the gesture, a growl building in his throat. He turned his head. There was a flicker of recognition at the site of his fellow exile and the growl became a sullen sigh.
“Friend Hulk,” The cloud said, its voice sounding like a chorus of children speaking in unison. “You need to move. If we are ever to gain our freedom, to escape this place and find a world to call our own… a home…you must leave the crossroads…you are the only one of us capable of such an action…”
The Hulk sighed again and turned his head, looking about with faint disinterest. He got slowly to his feet and padded around the crossroads, like some kind of enormous bored child.
The puffball collective drifted along behind him.
“Come, friend Hulk,” It cooed encouragingly. “Choose a portal, find a world, you are the key to our freedom…!”
The Hulk wandered about, listlessly, approaching several of the portals, but stopping before stepping through. He would occasionally peer at the swirling energy of a portal, but then slowly shake his massive, emerald head and move on.
The Puffballs followed along, its encouragement becoming less soothing and more forceful and strident. Finally its patience gave out and it floated into the Hulk’s path, forming into a roughly Hulk-sized shape. It raised its thick, puffy arms in a threatening gesture and opened its maw of a mouth.
“Move you dim beast!” The Collective raged in its tiny chorus of a voice. “I will be free! Pouting and drooling will accomplish nothing! Move!”
It swung an over-sized yellow fist, catching the Hulk full in the face. Its fist burst into a multitude of puffballs.
The Hulk flinched back, unhurt, merely startled. He growled angrily and, fists clenched, leapt at his attacker. The Hulk burst through the Puffball creature and his momentum carried him into the portal the puffball collective had been standing in front of.
The portal rippled and flickered, like the surface of a pond after a pebble had been dropped into it, and then grew still.
“There has to be an easier way to do this,” The Collective muttered, reassembling.
The Hulk’s leap took him across the great expanse of the multi-verse and he landed heavily in a quarry on another world. He skidded and stumbled down a bank of loose, grey slate and sand, landing with an ungraceful thud at the bottom.
He immediately got to his feet, growling accusingly at his surroundings. He pounded at the quarry wall, his fists leaving large craters in the rocky wall, as well as causing more mini-avalanches of sand to come cascading down upon him, which just served to further enrage the green behemoth. His attack on the quarry lasted for nearly an hour, only ceasing when the Hulk began to tire.
Coated with dirt, his breathing heavy and harsh, the Hulk snarled at the rocky wall and stomped off across the quarry.
It stretched for miles, endless grey, sandy, barren hills. The Hulk snorted in annoyance and was about to turn back the way he came, when a glint of light up on the ridge caught his attention. With one superhuman leap, he reached the top of the quarry.
Stretching before him was miles of desolate fields, decorated with scattered piles of rock, brown, brittle scrub grass and scraps of bent and rusted machinery.
Several miles away, the Hulk caught a glimpse of a city, glittering in the weak sunlight.
A couple more leaps took him within sight of the city. It was a stunning monument of white towers, spanning bridges and structures that could be anything from sculpture to homes for the city’s alien citizens.
It looked to be equal parts practical structure and work of art, a place where the functional and the aesthetic came together in perfect harmony.
Immune for the most part to the effects of art on the soul, the Hulk saw the city only as a bit of shelter from the surrounding grey, drab, chilly landscape and possibly the lair of some attacker. A tiny part of his brain equated cities with people. In the Hulk’s primitive mind people were the enemy.
Another massive leap took the Hulk over the fallow, dry plain and into the white city. The walkway he landed on was made of a white ceramic substance, the same as all the buildings, roads and structures around him. The force of his landing left a small crater in the walkway. The Hulk stepped out of it and ambled deeper into the city, which caused him to miss the damage repairing itself behind him.
The Hulk’s angry features began to soften as he stomped along down the street. There was no attack, no hordes of people either fleeing away from him or rushing to attack. Anger shifted to puzzlement and then to an almost relaxed curiosity, transforming him from a raging force of nature to a kind of bizarre tourist. He wandered about aimlessly, craning his neck to peer up at the ivory skyscrapers, poking at abstract statues in the many small parks and sniffing the air as his hunger and thirst grew.
The only sound, besides the thud of the Hulk’s footsteps, was the wind and a faint hum that came from machinery within all the buildings and roads around him.
Suddenly, a square in the walkway slid open and a white, humanoid robot emerged.
“Greetings, new arrival,” The automaton said, in a tinny, cheerful voice* “I am designated liaison unit….zzzt-scrawkkk….?”
(*Author’s note: all dialogue is being translated from an alien, other-dimensional language for your reading convenience.)
The Hulk started and then swung his arm, grabbing the robot’s blocky head and crushing it with little effort.
The body collapsed, a trickle of smoke drifting out from the stump of its neck.
Panels slid open on several nearby buildings and half a dozen knee-high, blocky white robots on tank-like treads scooted out, various thin appendages emerged, gathered up the bits of broken robot and cleaned the surrounding sidewalk.
The Hulk growled, clenching his fists in preparation for an attack.
The little robots ignored the large green creature and then returned the way they’d come.
The Hulk peered around, anger giving way to total bafflement. He stood frozen in his attack pose for several minutes, watching the robots trundling away, then grunted, shrugged and lowered his arms.
He looked around, as though expecting something else to jump out at him. He frowned in puzzlement, then snorted and continued to trudge along down the white road.
At a crossroads of several white streets, another panel in the ground opened and a second white robot appeared.
“Greetings!” It announced, raising one arm in a stiff wave. “I am liaison unit One-six. It is my designated task to welcome new arrivals to the city. If you would…zzzzt…!”
The Hulk leapt and landed on the robot with both feet, reducing it to a rough pile of pieces. He then snarled down at the debris, as if daring it to reassemble and attempt to converse with him again.
Another squad of small, many armed robots scooted out of the surrounding buildings, cleaned up the pieces and went back the way they had come.
One brushed against the Hulk’s leg, only to join the collection of broken pieces after contact with a fist like a pile driver. A second group of robots came to retrieve their damaged comrade’s remains and then were gone.
No sooner had they left than a white six-wheeled vehicle zoomed up to the Hulk.
“Greetings,” It said, speaking up to be heard over the hum of its engine and the Hulk’s angry growling. “Allow me to convey you to the destination of your…cho…choos-ing-ing…rurrrrrrr….!”
Being bigger than the previous machines it took the Hulk several blows to crush this one. After he’d stopped punching it, the car continued to struggle to speak, while protruding shards of machinery sparked.
Again the cleaning robots appeared, though it took them longer to clean up.
Frustration and confusion bubbled up and collided in the Hulk’s mind, and as with so many other instances, the Hulk could think of no other way of expressing these strong emotions or dealing with a confusing situation than by lashing out violently. He unleashed a tantrum of brute rage, shattering the small maintenance robots and flinging the tiny bits away. This then caused additional robots to appear to clean up the debris that used to be their fellows.
Within minutes the air around the Hulk was a swirl of pulverized robot bits, until it looked like some kind of surreal snow globe.
There was also the constant chorus of noise that was the enraged snarls of the emerald giant, mixed with the hum of the maintenance robots and the disjointed announcements of the greeter robots.
By the time the Hulk grew tired and began to cease his tantrum he was ankle-deep in robotic debris and he was breathing like a bellows.
The Hulk slumped, massive arms hanging loosely at his sides, as he glared at the broken bits of robot and the city around him, unsure what his next move, if any, should be.
“Greetings,” A white sphere, the size of a bowling ball, announced, floating down to hover just out of arms reach of the Hulk. “We understand that there is a period of transition for newcomers to the city and that it can be emotionally difficult for some beings. This unit is designated to greet new arrivals and help them to find their place in the city and make this transition as enjoyable, non-intrusive and productive as possible.”
A panel in the sidewalk slid open and a stocky, barrel-chested white robot ascended.
The Hulk snarled and half-heartedly raised a fist. The Robot’s chest opened and a tray slid out. It held a variety of small white dishes filled with a mix of colored substances and liquids.
“You must be hungry and thirsty after your recent exertions,” The sphere said. “May we offer some refreshment before we embark on your orientation tour?”
Hulk stomped up to the robot with the tray, his nostrils flaring, as he sniffed tentatively at its contents.
A hand nearly the size of the offered tray reached out, scooped up the various substances and shoveled them into the Hulk’s mouth.
The Hulk chewed and slurped at the various alien foods, spitting out the ones that did not suit his palate as well as the occasional utensil and bit of broken dishware.
A second food-serving robot came up out of the white sidewalk.
“Having further scanned your biology,” The sphere said. “We hope these will better suit your tastes and nutritional needs.”
This tray held three, larger bowls, filled with a blue applesauce-like substance. The Hulk grabbed two of them and gulped down the offered food greedily.
Six more food robots emerged before the Hulk gave a window-rattling belch, tossed aside an empty, white bowl and sank down sleepily onto the ground to sit.
“Allow me to welcome you to Yoldb, capital city of D’rel and main sanctuary during the Yoldb/ T’mas conflict.” The white sphere said. “Please follow me to the orientation center. Once you have attended a brief instructional welcome presentation, we will be assigning you living quarters and see to your vocational designation…”
The sphere floated down the street, traveling nearly twenty feet before realizing the Hulk was not following. It pivoted, noticing that his new charge was still sitting on the ground, ignoring his instructional speech.
The sphere waited several moments for the green brute to join him. When the Hulk showed no sign of moving, it floated back.
The Hulk’s shoulders were slumped, his chin rested against his broad chest.
“This unit does not wish to disturb you,” The sphere said. “As you appear tired from your journey to Yoldb, but once you have attended orientation, this unit can escort you to your assigned sleeping quarters.”
The Hulk barely opened his eyes all the way at the sphere’s speech. He sighed contentedly. The hum of the sphere changed tone slightly, as though it too was sighing, but in annoyance. A faint blue beam shot from its single ‘eye’ and washed over the Hulk massive cranium.
The green behemoth blinked and glared lazily up at the sphere.
“Analysis complete,” The sphere stated. “Nutritional needs: exceeds required levels. Health: exceeds required citizenship levels. Brain scan: impediments in language center and cognitive reasoning center. Adjusting orientation procedure guidelines….”
The sphere floated silently for several moments, contemplating how to work with this unusual new arrival to the white city.
“Verbal language inadequate,” The sphere stated, its tone sounded like it was puzzled at how to proceed and talking to itself. “Altering itinerary…”
A second beam, this one yellow, washed over the Hulk, penetrating his green, leathery skin to trace his gamma-altered nervous system.
The Hulk shook his head, blinking his eyes and grunting as impulses flickered in his primitive brain. He struggled to sift through these implanted thoughts and what they meant and how to act on them.
He slowly, hesitantly got to his feet.
The sphere started floating down the street and this time, the Hulk followed slowly after it. The odd pair moved through the city, turned onto a side street and went up to a towering, white building. As they approached, the doors slid open and the Hulk and the drone entered an ultra modern looking lobby, all shiny metal and white plastic.
Hulk glared at his new surroundings suspiciously, as his robotic guide merely floated along.
From the lobby, they walked to a carpeted ramp that lead up to another set of doors. They entered an empty auditorium.
The sphere halted and focused its single eye on the many rows of white chairs. Then at the massive emerald brute and then back at the obviously inadequate chairs and then lead the Hulk to the front of the room.
It shown a beam at a spot on the white-carpeted floor and the Hulk hesitantly sat down.
A boxy white robot rolled forward on tank treads, bearing a tray of what looked like cubes of blue gelatin. It offered them to the Hulk, who with one scoop of his hand emptied the tray. He sat, chewing, while gazing absently around the room. There was a hum and a circle, set into the floor of the stage, at the front of the auditorium, irised open. Within it appeared the image of an alien being. It was tall, very thin and blue. Its arms were much longer than a human’s. Its hands were three-fingered. It was dressed in a white, thigh-length, short sleeve tunic.
It nodded its elongated, hairless head in greeting and spoke in a solemn baritone.
“Greetings, new citizens of Yoldb.” The hologram said. “We have all suffered greatly during the war and the following social upheaval, as well as during the more recent virus outbreaks. We, as a people, have had to bear an unthinkable amount of hardship. It is our hope that these sanctuary cities, will serve, not only as shelter for the many displaced beings, but as a foundation, on which a new, stronger society can be built.”
The hologram paused and looked about at the nonexistent crowd with a hopeful and encouraging smile.
The Hulk grunted and scratched his head. He didn’t understand a word the hologram, or anything he’d encountered in the city, had said, but the tone was soothing and no one seemed to be threatening him or wanting to fight.
His belly was full and he found himself experiencing a strange new emotion: contentment. The Hulk’s eyelids grew heavy and his body slumped over, till he was leaning against the white wall to stay upright.
The hologram continued its welcoming orientation talk, its voice sporadically drowned out by the Hulk’s snores.
The white spherebot hovered closer to his massive green head and ran another scan ray over him. When there were no changes to the Hulk’s condition, it sounded as if the small automaton had again sighed.
There then followed several days of unprecedented contentment and ease in the Hulk’s life. It was a rarity: a full belly, uninterrupted slumber and days full of leisure, rather than attack.
The Hulk slept till he woke up, ate heartily and continued to aimlessly wander and explore his new home. He prowled meticulously clean alleys, strolled down white streets and climbed, or leapt, to the tops of pristine, majestic skyscrapers.
He encountered no other inhabitants, aside from the occasional instructional hologram or the constant army of white robots that appeared to cater to his every need. Though, occasionally, the robots would be a bit too eager and the startled Hulk would pummel one into tiny pieces. That happened less and less as the days went on.
The white sphere bot continued to constantly follow the Hulk around, giving little tour guide-like speeches that the Hulk continued to, for the most part, ignore, as well as using its advanced knowledge and technology in attempting to alter the Hulk’s neural pathways and raise and guide the jade giant’s cognitive abilities. The only sign of success was its ability to occasional nudge the Hulk in a specific direction.
On the occasional lazy afternoon, well fed and bored with exploring, the Hulk would find a comfortable spot and listen as the sphere-bot droned on, as a kind of soothing background noise to lull him to sleep. Some tiny part of his mind would hear the drone’s lectures and be reminded vaguely of another time, when he would wile away the hours, listening to the puffball collective.
The little lectures were both comforting and troubling. They reminded the Hulk of some of his rare peaceful moments, but at the same time set a speck of doubt through his primitive brain. Amongst all this splendor and comfort there was not just a lack of people, but someone very specific was missing, someone to share his new home and life with.
This brief flash of thought lead to the occasional day of wandering with a purpose, searching for his faintly remembered friend and then for any sign of any living inhabitant of the city, not made of white plastic and metal.
Slowly, the Hulk began, on a subconscious level, to realize that, much as he generally disliked them, there should be people in a city.
With a new, if barely understood, sense of purpose, the Hulk began to patrol the city. Now, instead of working to avoid them, he was now in search of the other citizens of the white city. After a day or two with no results, the emerald behemoth began to lose interest and focus; he became distracted and grumpy by an automatic door, a fountain or offers of food.
Wandering around a food court that took up the entire bottom floor of a skyscraper the Hulk was startled by a small, shoebox shaped white robot on tank treads. Growling, the Hulk stomped down upon the small robot and ended up shattering the floor tiles, as well as the small robot. His foot cracked the concrete beneath. Shifting his weight to pull his foot free from the robot’s remains was enough to cause the white ceramic and concrete to give and he plunged through the floor.
He landed in an angry heap, coated with dust and debris in a service tunnel beneath the food court. A horde of service robots scattered at the Hulk’s abrupt arrival, while another horde came racing towards the green giant to repair the damage.
The Hulk raged, trying to rub the dust and grit out of his eyes, while with his other hand he swatted the robots aside, as he climbed to his feet.
A random swing of his fist broke a concrete wall and the Hulk, tripping over a turtle-like cleaning bot and stumbled and crashed through the wall and into the next chamber.
There were skeletons strewn about the dusty, concrete floor. Nearly a dozen, and they seemed to be the bones of at least three separate alien species.
The Hulk stood in the makeshift doorway, puzzled and blinking in the dim light. He shuffled across the room, his oversized feet kicking up puffs of dust and breaking up the skeletons, scattering bones.
The sphere-bot caught up to Hulk and hovered at his shoulder. It ran a scan beam over the bones and then paused in mid-air to process the information and access the city’s database.
“Skeletal remains located in sub-section Z7441,” It droned. “Activate maintenance units as well as scanner units. Possible virus occurrence.”
The Hulk frowned at the bones, a new reminder that there were no people in this vast city and that there should be. Again his primitive mind struggled with the clashing ideas. The white city was a safe haven, plenty of food, places to rest, safety and no puny soldiers bothering him. Yet, at the same time the city was empty, except for robots and the bones of the dead. While all the talk of a virus and a war meant nothing to him, the loneliness and the constant, almost smothering care and presence of the multitudes of white robots did.
With every jarring thought, there also came a vague memory of his absent friend, the puffball collective. The trace of an idea that the collective should be here and without him, the Hulk knew subconsciously that he would never be fully content, never be able to call this city ‘home’.
The Hulk sighed as the slow realization that had been swirling about his brain for the past several days began to solidify. He turned, stomped off back to the maintenance tunnel and leapt up through the hole in the roof. He then crashed through the wall of the food court and began to leap through the city. The white sphere-bot struggled to keep up.
“Be aware that it is not advised to leave the habitation zones,” It said, as they traveled across the city, moving away from the polished towers and into areas of blocky factories and white metal power stations. The robots were larger and more plain and functional in design. “If a citizen wishes, tours of the various manufacturing facilities can be scheduled or you can attend one of many public lectures on the city, its history, its infra-structure, as well as on topics including art, music, film, food preparation and education…”
As the Hulk was traveling in arcs of several hundred yards per leap, he heard the robot’s explanation in disjointed segments. The closer to the boundaries of the city the Hulk traveled, the louder the sphere-bot’s volume became.
“Travel to the outer zones of the city is strictly prohibited,” The drone continued, growing louder and increasing its speed to keep up with the Hulk. “There are safety concerns for unauthorized citizens in manufactioning zones. It would be advised if you wish to attend a tour or one of the lectures, that you return to city center and apply.”
The Hulk continued on his way, ignoring the robot, leaping over buildings and multi-lane highways full of automated traffic. A trio of triangular drones, flying in side-by-side formation, soon joined the white sphere.
Miniature gun ports opened and crimson targeting beams played across the Hulk’s emerald skin.
“Be advised,” The sphere drone announced. “ There is a security alert in affect and all non-authorized travel into the outer zones is prohibited. You are instructed to return to a residential or public area of the city center zone. Non-compliance will be treated as a hostile and intentional violation of city ordinances and forced compliance will be authorized.”
The Hulk glanced over his broad shoulder, mid-leap, as the red dots distracted him. He growled at the newly arrived drones, recognizing them from his long experience with military hardware.
Upon landing, the Hulk turned and this time leapt back the way he came. The red lights shut down, only to have the Hulk swat one of them out of the air as he passed. Smashing one of the large industry robots on landing, the Hulk leapt again, resuming his original path towards the outskirts of the city and in passing, he swung at one of the remaining drones, snapping off one of its’ wings.
The Hulk continued the arc of his leap without a look back, as the second drone tumbled from the sky. The last remaining drone began firing, peppering the Hulk’s leathery green skin with crimson energy beams. The Hulk grunted, but for the most part ignored the shots, as he continued leaping on his way.
The sphere struggled to dodge lasers and debris, as it continued to follow.
The Hulk landed, creating a large crater in the smooth, white roadway, and then turned to face his pursuer.
“Be advised,” The drone announced, managing to catch up to the jade monster. “Violent actions towards security units carries a punitive mark on your citizenship record and can result in fines and restrictions. It would be in the citizens’ favor to submit to security scan and review.”
Hulk pulled a lamppost from the ground and swung wildly at the drone.
The ruckus caught the attention of local traffic robots, as well as some of the ever-present maintenance drones and additional security robots, both flying drones and humanoid troops.
The Hulk clubbed the final security drone to the ground, snarled at the approaching robots and turned to walk away, only to find a wall of even more robots blocking him from reaching the edge of the city.
“You are approaching the city limits,” The drone announced, increasing its volume to be heard over the noise of the multitude of marching and trundling robots now surrounding the Hulk. “It is advised that citizens remain within the city limits, as travel in the barrens can be hazardous, due to remnants from the war and the high potential of coming in contact with virus contaminated individuals, food stuffs or structures. Please follow this unit back to prescribed residential zones.”
He drifted away then stopped after several feet and turned to see if the Hulk was following it.
Breathing heavily, the Hulk clutched his makeshift club tighter and glared at the army that encircled him. They were metal and white plastic, rather than flesh and bone, but stirred up memories in the behemoth’s mind, dim memories of being hunted and attacked by human soldiers. Memories of being forced into an endless parade of traps and cages.
Without being able to articulate it, coming to the conclusion through flashes of instinct and memory, rather than reason, the Hulk began to see that this white city with its graceful towers, armies of servants and endless supply of food was just another cage. A pretty cage, with bars invisible to the eye, but now the Hulk had at least become aware that the bars were there.
And if there was one thing the Hulk could never tolerant, it was being caged.
A growl slipped through the Hulk’s clenched teeth, building to a roar as he charged at the army of white robots, swinging his lamppost club.
The Hulk had spent weeks well fed and content, but his anger never truly left him, it never would, the anger just got pushed back, suppressed and now it was released. Like a spark thrown on dry kindling, the Hulk’s rage burst forth and he dove into the army with wild abandon, mowing down dozens of robots with each swing.
The reasons of why the city wished to hold and keep him were unimportant, as were any threats that might exist in the wasteland beyond the city limits, all the Hulk knew was that he would be free of the white city if he had to smash it to rubble to do it. He was a force of nature colliding with the robot army, grabbing and flinging them blocks away, clubbing them into fragments and then stomping on the maintenance drones that arrived to clean up. He fought until his club shattered and he was wading through knee-deep piles broken automaton pieces.
The entire time the Hulk pummeled and crushed the robots, the small white sphere flitted about the Hulk’s head, continuing to attempt to reason with him, as well as using his scanning beams to adjust the emerald’s brutes’ emotions in the hopes the Hulk would end this brutal conflict. It struggled to be heard over the cacophony of the battle. Its tinny voice sounding more plaintive and desperate as it was battered by flying debris and struggled to grab the Hulk’s attention.
“Violence is an unacceptable response…”
“If you wish to submit to an independent arbiter…”
“It is advised that you desist, the city systems are here to…”
“Your vital signs are exhibiting numerous stress registers…”
“Strenuous activity such as this can deplete organic beings of vital fluids and nutrients. Might this unit suggest a beverage…?”
The fighting raged for hours and the cities efforts to subdue and contain the savage Hulk only seemed to heighten his anger and result in even more damage to the city itself.
Across the white city, lights began to flicker and nonessential systems were shut down, as the strain on the city’s power grid and infer-structure began to grow. Fewer robots arrived to replaced damaged ones or to clean up and repair them and soon, the Hulk was facing an ever-shrinking group of robots.
As he stomped the final paces to where the white pavement ended and the grey, sandy wastes began, there was no more than a dozen small robots scuttling and hovering around him, more nuiscence than threat.
With a final swat, the Hulk stepped up to the very edge of the city, his toes touching the coarse, hot sand. His breathing was heavy and his skin coated with a thick layer of sweat, dirt, scratches and bruises.
The sphere bot, sporting several dents and a generous coating of dirt, hovered at the Hulk’s shoulder. It too appeared to be weary.
“Stop…zzzt…it…is ad-ad-advised…this unit…please, stop…!”
The Hulk turned and looked thoughtfully at the battered drone. It looked plaintive and lost, like an abandoned pet.
“We…we… require…bzzzz…citizens…zzzt…or what…what…this unit’s purpose…?”
The Hulk reached out and his massive hand gently patted the robot.
He then began to walk away from the city. Several feet into the desert, the Hulk began to glow and the spell that allowed him to travel the multi-verse was activated and he faded out of sight.
Behind the sphere-bot, an assortment of the surviving robots struggled to gain their feet, treads or wheels, and began the long, extensive work of rebuilding the city and preparing for the arrival of new citizens.
The white drone bobbed for several minutes, its single eye blinking unsteadily.
“What…is…this…unit’s…pu-purpose…?” It muttered, before its eye flickered and went dark. It landed the sand with a dull thud.
Back at the crossroads, the puffball floated about the signpost, its many voices muttering to itself.
Suddenly, the Hulk reappeared, walking slowly and covered in dirt.
“Where have you been?” It demanded, floating around him.
The Hulk slumped down to the ground, returning to his spot, sitting with his back against the signpost and sighed.
Set at the center of this is the guidepost, a twenty-foot tall structure, resembling an enormous candle in the process of melting. Protruding from its molten, waxy surface were hundreds of hands, all shapes, sizes and species, each one pointing to a different path.
The Crossroads had only two occupants, two exiles from their home dimensions that had found each other and formed an uneasy and unlikely friendship.
One was a large cloud made up of hundreds of fist-sized yellow puffballs, joined together in a collective. It drifted about the crossroads, occasionally a few individual puffballs would detach and float away, down a pathway to investigate the many portals into the realms beyond.
The other exile was a massive, brutish creature. His emerald skin bulged with muscle, clad in just a pair of purple briefs.
He sat, slumped against the signpost his heavy features vacant, drifting between boredom and a complete loss of what should be done next.
On his home world, this brute was known as the Incredible Hulk.
At one time a living duality, the Hulk had shared his existence with the human scientist Bruce Banner. Now, Banner was gone and all that remained was this behemoth, a creature of primal rage and animal intellect.*
(*Author’s note: see the Incredible Hulk, first series, issue 300 for details.)
Exiled from the earthly dimension as a last hope of protecting that fragile sphere, this primitive brute was granted access to the Crossroads, by earth’s sorcerer supreme, Doctor Strange, in the hope he could find a place, somewhere in the multi-verse, to call home.
The Hulk was a creature of instinct, reactive rather than pro-active and with nothing to nudge him to action this mindless slump had become his default setting.
The puffball cloud drifted over to the Hulk, tentatively extended a tendril and prodded the Hulk’s broad, green shoulder. The Hulk shrugged off the gesture, a growl building in his throat. He turned his head. There was a flicker of recognition at the site of his fellow exile and the growl became a sullen sigh.
“Friend Hulk,” The cloud said, its voice sounding like a chorus of children speaking in unison. “You need to move. If we are ever to gain our freedom, to escape this place and find a world to call our own… a home…you must leave the crossroads…you are the only one of us capable of such an action…”
The Hulk sighed again and turned his head, looking about with faint disinterest. He got slowly to his feet and padded around the crossroads, like some kind of enormous bored child.
The puffball collective drifted along behind him.
“Come, friend Hulk,” It cooed encouragingly. “Choose a portal, find a world, you are the key to our freedom…!”
The Hulk wandered about, listlessly, approaching several of the portals, but stopping before stepping through. He would occasionally peer at the swirling energy of a portal, but then slowly shake his massive, emerald head and move on.
The Puffballs followed along, its encouragement becoming less soothing and more forceful and strident. Finally its patience gave out and it floated into the Hulk’s path, forming into a roughly Hulk-sized shape. It raised its thick, puffy arms in a threatening gesture and opened its maw of a mouth.
“Move you dim beast!” The Collective raged in its tiny chorus of a voice. “I will be free! Pouting and drooling will accomplish nothing! Move!”
It swung an over-sized yellow fist, catching the Hulk full in the face. Its fist burst into a multitude of puffballs.
The Hulk flinched back, unhurt, merely startled. He growled angrily and, fists clenched, leapt at his attacker. The Hulk burst through the Puffball creature and his momentum carried him into the portal the puffball collective had been standing in front of.
The portal rippled and flickered, like the surface of a pond after a pebble had been dropped into it, and then grew still.
“There has to be an easier way to do this,” The Collective muttered, reassembling.
The Hulk’s leap took him across the great expanse of the multi-verse and he landed heavily in a quarry on another world. He skidded and stumbled down a bank of loose, grey slate and sand, landing with an ungraceful thud at the bottom.
He immediately got to his feet, growling accusingly at his surroundings. He pounded at the quarry wall, his fists leaving large craters in the rocky wall, as well as causing more mini-avalanches of sand to come cascading down upon him, which just served to further enrage the green behemoth. His attack on the quarry lasted for nearly an hour, only ceasing when the Hulk began to tire.
Coated with dirt, his breathing heavy and harsh, the Hulk snarled at the rocky wall and stomped off across the quarry.
It stretched for miles, endless grey, sandy, barren hills. The Hulk snorted in annoyance and was about to turn back the way he came, when a glint of light up on the ridge caught his attention. With one superhuman leap, he reached the top of the quarry.
Stretching before him was miles of desolate fields, decorated with scattered piles of rock, brown, brittle scrub grass and scraps of bent and rusted machinery.
Several miles away, the Hulk caught a glimpse of a city, glittering in the weak sunlight.
A couple more leaps took him within sight of the city. It was a stunning monument of white towers, spanning bridges and structures that could be anything from sculpture to homes for the city’s alien citizens.
It looked to be equal parts practical structure and work of art, a place where the functional and the aesthetic came together in perfect harmony.
Immune for the most part to the effects of art on the soul, the Hulk saw the city only as a bit of shelter from the surrounding grey, drab, chilly landscape and possibly the lair of some attacker. A tiny part of his brain equated cities with people. In the Hulk’s primitive mind people were the enemy.
Another massive leap took the Hulk over the fallow, dry plain and into the white city. The walkway he landed on was made of a white ceramic substance, the same as all the buildings, roads and structures around him. The force of his landing left a small crater in the walkway. The Hulk stepped out of it and ambled deeper into the city, which caused him to miss the damage repairing itself behind him.
The Hulk’s angry features began to soften as he stomped along down the street. There was no attack, no hordes of people either fleeing away from him or rushing to attack. Anger shifted to puzzlement and then to an almost relaxed curiosity, transforming him from a raging force of nature to a kind of bizarre tourist. He wandered about aimlessly, craning his neck to peer up at the ivory skyscrapers, poking at abstract statues in the many small parks and sniffing the air as his hunger and thirst grew.
The only sound, besides the thud of the Hulk’s footsteps, was the wind and a faint hum that came from machinery within all the buildings and roads around him.
Suddenly, a square in the walkway slid open and a white, humanoid robot emerged.
“Greetings, new arrival,” The automaton said, in a tinny, cheerful voice* “I am designated liaison unit….zzzt-scrawkkk….?”
(*Author’s note: all dialogue is being translated from an alien, other-dimensional language for your reading convenience.)
The Hulk started and then swung his arm, grabbing the robot’s blocky head and crushing it with little effort.
The body collapsed, a trickle of smoke drifting out from the stump of its neck.
Panels slid open on several nearby buildings and half a dozen knee-high, blocky white robots on tank-like treads scooted out, various thin appendages emerged, gathered up the bits of broken robot and cleaned the surrounding sidewalk.
The Hulk growled, clenching his fists in preparation for an attack.
The little robots ignored the large green creature and then returned the way they’d come.
The Hulk peered around, anger giving way to total bafflement. He stood frozen in his attack pose for several minutes, watching the robots trundling away, then grunted, shrugged and lowered his arms.
He looked around, as though expecting something else to jump out at him. He frowned in puzzlement, then snorted and continued to trudge along down the white road.
At a crossroads of several white streets, another panel in the ground opened and a second white robot appeared.
“Greetings!” It announced, raising one arm in a stiff wave. “I am liaison unit One-six. It is my designated task to welcome new arrivals to the city. If you would…zzzzt…!”
The Hulk leapt and landed on the robot with both feet, reducing it to a rough pile of pieces. He then snarled down at the debris, as if daring it to reassemble and attempt to converse with him again.
Another squad of small, many armed robots scooted out of the surrounding buildings, cleaned up the pieces and went back the way they had come.
One brushed against the Hulk’s leg, only to join the collection of broken pieces after contact with a fist like a pile driver. A second group of robots came to retrieve their damaged comrade’s remains and then were gone.
No sooner had they left than a white six-wheeled vehicle zoomed up to the Hulk.
“Greetings,” It said, speaking up to be heard over the hum of its engine and the Hulk’s angry growling. “Allow me to convey you to the destination of your…cho…choos-ing-ing…rurrrrrrr….!”
Being bigger than the previous machines it took the Hulk several blows to crush this one. After he’d stopped punching it, the car continued to struggle to speak, while protruding shards of machinery sparked.
Again the cleaning robots appeared, though it took them longer to clean up.
Frustration and confusion bubbled up and collided in the Hulk’s mind, and as with so many other instances, the Hulk could think of no other way of expressing these strong emotions or dealing with a confusing situation than by lashing out violently. He unleashed a tantrum of brute rage, shattering the small maintenance robots and flinging the tiny bits away. This then caused additional robots to appear to clean up the debris that used to be their fellows.
Within minutes the air around the Hulk was a swirl of pulverized robot bits, until it looked like some kind of surreal snow globe.
There was also the constant chorus of noise that was the enraged snarls of the emerald giant, mixed with the hum of the maintenance robots and the disjointed announcements of the greeter robots.
By the time the Hulk grew tired and began to cease his tantrum he was ankle-deep in robotic debris and he was breathing like a bellows.
The Hulk slumped, massive arms hanging loosely at his sides, as he glared at the broken bits of robot and the city around him, unsure what his next move, if any, should be.
“Greetings,” A white sphere, the size of a bowling ball, announced, floating down to hover just out of arms reach of the Hulk. “We understand that there is a period of transition for newcomers to the city and that it can be emotionally difficult for some beings. This unit is designated to greet new arrivals and help them to find their place in the city and make this transition as enjoyable, non-intrusive and productive as possible.”
A panel in the sidewalk slid open and a stocky, barrel-chested white robot ascended.
The Hulk snarled and half-heartedly raised a fist. The Robot’s chest opened and a tray slid out. It held a variety of small white dishes filled with a mix of colored substances and liquids.
“You must be hungry and thirsty after your recent exertions,” The sphere said. “May we offer some refreshment before we embark on your orientation tour?”
Hulk stomped up to the robot with the tray, his nostrils flaring, as he sniffed tentatively at its contents.
A hand nearly the size of the offered tray reached out, scooped up the various substances and shoveled them into the Hulk’s mouth.
The Hulk chewed and slurped at the various alien foods, spitting out the ones that did not suit his palate as well as the occasional utensil and bit of broken dishware.
A second food-serving robot came up out of the white sidewalk.
“Having further scanned your biology,” The sphere said. “We hope these will better suit your tastes and nutritional needs.”
This tray held three, larger bowls, filled with a blue applesauce-like substance. The Hulk grabbed two of them and gulped down the offered food greedily.
Six more food robots emerged before the Hulk gave a window-rattling belch, tossed aside an empty, white bowl and sank down sleepily onto the ground to sit.
“Allow me to welcome you to Yoldb, capital city of D’rel and main sanctuary during the Yoldb/ T’mas conflict.” The white sphere said. “Please follow me to the orientation center. Once you have attended a brief instructional welcome presentation, we will be assigning you living quarters and see to your vocational designation…”
The sphere floated down the street, traveling nearly twenty feet before realizing the Hulk was not following. It pivoted, noticing that his new charge was still sitting on the ground, ignoring his instructional speech.
The sphere waited several moments for the green brute to join him. When the Hulk showed no sign of moving, it floated back.
The Hulk’s shoulders were slumped, his chin rested against his broad chest.
“This unit does not wish to disturb you,” The sphere said. “As you appear tired from your journey to Yoldb, but once you have attended orientation, this unit can escort you to your assigned sleeping quarters.”
The Hulk barely opened his eyes all the way at the sphere’s speech. He sighed contentedly. The hum of the sphere changed tone slightly, as though it too was sighing, but in annoyance. A faint blue beam shot from its single ‘eye’ and washed over the Hulk massive cranium.
The green behemoth blinked and glared lazily up at the sphere.
“Analysis complete,” The sphere stated. “Nutritional needs: exceeds required levels. Health: exceeds required citizenship levels. Brain scan: impediments in language center and cognitive reasoning center. Adjusting orientation procedure guidelines….”
The sphere floated silently for several moments, contemplating how to work with this unusual new arrival to the white city.
“Verbal language inadequate,” The sphere stated, its tone sounded like it was puzzled at how to proceed and talking to itself. “Altering itinerary…”
A second beam, this one yellow, washed over the Hulk, penetrating his green, leathery skin to trace his gamma-altered nervous system.
The Hulk shook his head, blinking his eyes and grunting as impulses flickered in his primitive brain. He struggled to sift through these implanted thoughts and what they meant and how to act on them.
He slowly, hesitantly got to his feet.
The sphere started floating down the street and this time, the Hulk followed slowly after it. The odd pair moved through the city, turned onto a side street and went up to a towering, white building. As they approached, the doors slid open and the Hulk and the drone entered an ultra modern looking lobby, all shiny metal and white plastic.
Hulk glared at his new surroundings suspiciously, as his robotic guide merely floated along.
From the lobby, they walked to a carpeted ramp that lead up to another set of doors. They entered an empty auditorium.
The sphere halted and focused its single eye on the many rows of white chairs. Then at the massive emerald brute and then back at the obviously inadequate chairs and then lead the Hulk to the front of the room.
It shown a beam at a spot on the white-carpeted floor and the Hulk hesitantly sat down.
A boxy white robot rolled forward on tank treads, bearing a tray of what looked like cubes of blue gelatin. It offered them to the Hulk, who with one scoop of his hand emptied the tray. He sat, chewing, while gazing absently around the room. There was a hum and a circle, set into the floor of the stage, at the front of the auditorium, irised open. Within it appeared the image of an alien being. It was tall, very thin and blue. Its arms were much longer than a human’s. Its hands were three-fingered. It was dressed in a white, thigh-length, short sleeve tunic.
It nodded its elongated, hairless head in greeting and spoke in a solemn baritone.
“Greetings, new citizens of Yoldb.” The hologram said. “We have all suffered greatly during the war and the following social upheaval, as well as during the more recent virus outbreaks. We, as a people, have had to bear an unthinkable amount of hardship. It is our hope that these sanctuary cities, will serve, not only as shelter for the many displaced beings, but as a foundation, on which a new, stronger society can be built.”
The hologram paused and looked about at the nonexistent crowd with a hopeful and encouraging smile.
The Hulk grunted and scratched his head. He didn’t understand a word the hologram, or anything he’d encountered in the city, had said, but the tone was soothing and no one seemed to be threatening him or wanting to fight.
His belly was full and he found himself experiencing a strange new emotion: contentment. The Hulk’s eyelids grew heavy and his body slumped over, till he was leaning against the white wall to stay upright.
The hologram continued its welcoming orientation talk, its voice sporadically drowned out by the Hulk’s snores.
The white spherebot hovered closer to his massive green head and ran another scan ray over him. When there were no changes to the Hulk’s condition, it sounded as if the small automaton had again sighed.
There then followed several days of unprecedented contentment and ease in the Hulk’s life. It was a rarity: a full belly, uninterrupted slumber and days full of leisure, rather than attack.
The Hulk slept till he woke up, ate heartily and continued to aimlessly wander and explore his new home. He prowled meticulously clean alleys, strolled down white streets and climbed, or leapt, to the tops of pristine, majestic skyscrapers.
He encountered no other inhabitants, aside from the occasional instructional hologram or the constant army of white robots that appeared to cater to his every need. Though, occasionally, the robots would be a bit too eager and the startled Hulk would pummel one into tiny pieces. That happened less and less as the days went on.
The white sphere bot continued to constantly follow the Hulk around, giving little tour guide-like speeches that the Hulk continued to, for the most part, ignore, as well as using its advanced knowledge and technology in attempting to alter the Hulk’s neural pathways and raise and guide the jade giant’s cognitive abilities. The only sign of success was its ability to occasional nudge the Hulk in a specific direction.
On the occasional lazy afternoon, well fed and bored with exploring, the Hulk would find a comfortable spot and listen as the sphere-bot droned on, as a kind of soothing background noise to lull him to sleep. Some tiny part of his mind would hear the drone’s lectures and be reminded vaguely of another time, when he would wile away the hours, listening to the puffball collective.
The little lectures were both comforting and troubling. They reminded the Hulk of some of his rare peaceful moments, but at the same time set a speck of doubt through his primitive brain. Amongst all this splendor and comfort there was not just a lack of people, but someone very specific was missing, someone to share his new home and life with.
This brief flash of thought lead to the occasional day of wandering with a purpose, searching for his faintly remembered friend and then for any sign of any living inhabitant of the city, not made of white plastic and metal.
Slowly, the Hulk began, on a subconscious level, to realize that, much as he generally disliked them, there should be people in a city.
With a new, if barely understood, sense of purpose, the Hulk began to patrol the city. Now, instead of working to avoid them, he was now in search of the other citizens of the white city. After a day or two with no results, the emerald behemoth began to lose interest and focus; he became distracted and grumpy by an automatic door, a fountain or offers of food.
Wandering around a food court that took up the entire bottom floor of a skyscraper the Hulk was startled by a small, shoebox shaped white robot on tank treads. Growling, the Hulk stomped down upon the small robot and ended up shattering the floor tiles, as well as the small robot. His foot cracked the concrete beneath. Shifting his weight to pull his foot free from the robot’s remains was enough to cause the white ceramic and concrete to give and he plunged through the floor.
He landed in an angry heap, coated with dust and debris in a service tunnel beneath the food court. A horde of service robots scattered at the Hulk’s abrupt arrival, while another horde came racing towards the green giant to repair the damage.
The Hulk raged, trying to rub the dust and grit out of his eyes, while with his other hand he swatted the robots aside, as he climbed to his feet.
A random swing of his fist broke a concrete wall and the Hulk, tripping over a turtle-like cleaning bot and stumbled and crashed through the wall and into the next chamber.
There were skeletons strewn about the dusty, concrete floor. Nearly a dozen, and they seemed to be the bones of at least three separate alien species.
The Hulk stood in the makeshift doorway, puzzled and blinking in the dim light. He shuffled across the room, his oversized feet kicking up puffs of dust and breaking up the skeletons, scattering bones.
The sphere-bot caught up to Hulk and hovered at his shoulder. It ran a scan beam over the bones and then paused in mid-air to process the information and access the city’s database.
“Skeletal remains located in sub-section Z7441,” It droned. “Activate maintenance units as well as scanner units. Possible virus occurrence.”
The Hulk frowned at the bones, a new reminder that there were no people in this vast city and that there should be. Again his primitive mind struggled with the clashing ideas. The white city was a safe haven, plenty of food, places to rest, safety and no puny soldiers bothering him. Yet, at the same time the city was empty, except for robots and the bones of the dead. While all the talk of a virus and a war meant nothing to him, the loneliness and the constant, almost smothering care and presence of the multitudes of white robots did.
With every jarring thought, there also came a vague memory of his absent friend, the puffball collective. The trace of an idea that the collective should be here and without him, the Hulk knew subconsciously that he would never be fully content, never be able to call this city ‘home’.
The Hulk sighed as the slow realization that had been swirling about his brain for the past several days began to solidify. He turned, stomped off back to the maintenance tunnel and leapt up through the hole in the roof. He then crashed through the wall of the food court and began to leap through the city. The white sphere-bot struggled to keep up.
“Be aware that it is not advised to leave the habitation zones,” It said, as they traveled across the city, moving away from the polished towers and into areas of blocky factories and white metal power stations. The robots were larger and more plain and functional in design. “If a citizen wishes, tours of the various manufacturing facilities can be scheduled or you can attend one of many public lectures on the city, its history, its infra-structure, as well as on topics including art, music, film, food preparation and education…”
As the Hulk was traveling in arcs of several hundred yards per leap, he heard the robot’s explanation in disjointed segments. The closer to the boundaries of the city the Hulk traveled, the louder the sphere-bot’s volume became.
“Travel to the outer zones of the city is strictly prohibited,” The drone continued, growing louder and increasing its speed to keep up with the Hulk. “There are safety concerns for unauthorized citizens in manufactioning zones. It would be advised if you wish to attend a tour or one of the lectures, that you return to city center and apply.”
The Hulk continued on his way, ignoring the robot, leaping over buildings and multi-lane highways full of automated traffic. A trio of triangular drones, flying in side-by-side formation, soon joined the white sphere.
Miniature gun ports opened and crimson targeting beams played across the Hulk’s emerald skin.
“Be advised,” The sphere drone announced. “ There is a security alert in affect and all non-authorized travel into the outer zones is prohibited. You are instructed to return to a residential or public area of the city center zone. Non-compliance will be treated as a hostile and intentional violation of city ordinances and forced compliance will be authorized.”
The Hulk glanced over his broad shoulder, mid-leap, as the red dots distracted him. He growled at the newly arrived drones, recognizing them from his long experience with military hardware.
Upon landing, the Hulk turned and this time leapt back the way he came. The red lights shut down, only to have the Hulk swat one of them out of the air as he passed. Smashing one of the large industry robots on landing, the Hulk leapt again, resuming his original path towards the outskirts of the city and in passing, he swung at one of the remaining drones, snapping off one of its’ wings.
The Hulk continued the arc of his leap without a look back, as the second drone tumbled from the sky. The last remaining drone began firing, peppering the Hulk’s leathery green skin with crimson energy beams. The Hulk grunted, but for the most part ignored the shots, as he continued leaping on his way.
The sphere struggled to dodge lasers and debris, as it continued to follow.
The Hulk landed, creating a large crater in the smooth, white roadway, and then turned to face his pursuer.
“Be advised,” The drone announced, managing to catch up to the jade monster. “Violent actions towards security units carries a punitive mark on your citizenship record and can result in fines and restrictions. It would be in the citizens’ favor to submit to security scan and review.”
Hulk pulled a lamppost from the ground and swung wildly at the drone.
The ruckus caught the attention of local traffic robots, as well as some of the ever-present maintenance drones and additional security robots, both flying drones and humanoid troops.
The Hulk clubbed the final security drone to the ground, snarled at the approaching robots and turned to walk away, only to find a wall of even more robots blocking him from reaching the edge of the city.
“You are approaching the city limits,” The drone announced, increasing its volume to be heard over the noise of the multitude of marching and trundling robots now surrounding the Hulk. “It is advised that citizens remain within the city limits, as travel in the barrens can be hazardous, due to remnants from the war and the high potential of coming in contact with virus contaminated individuals, food stuffs or structures. Please follow this unit back to prescribed residential zones.”
He drifted away then stopped after several feet and turned to see if the Hulk was following it.
Breathing heavily, the Hulk clutched his makeshift club tighter and glared at the army that encircled him. They were metal and white plastic, rather than flesh and bone, but stirred up memories in the behemoth’s mind, dim memories of being hunted and attacked by human soldiers. Memories of being forced into an endless parade of traps and cages.
Without being able to articulate it, coming to the conclusion through flashes of instinct and memory, rather than reason, the Hulk began to see that this white city with its graceful towers, armies of servants and endless supply of food was just another cage. A pretty cage, with bars invisible to the eye, but now the Hulk had at least become aware that the bars were there.
And if there was one thing the Hulk could never tolerant, it was being caged.
A growl slipped through the Hulk’s clenched teeth, building to a roar as he charged at the army of white robots, swinging his lamppost club.
The Hulk had spent weeks well fed and content, but his anger never truly left him, it never would, the anger just got pushed back, suppressed and now it was released. Like a spark thrown on dry kindling, the Hulk’s rage burst forth and he dove into the army with wild abandon, mowing down dozens of robots with each swing.
The reasons of why the city wished to hold and keep him were unimportant, as were any threats that might exist in the wasteland beyond the city limits, all the Hulk knew was that he would be free of the white city if he had to smash it to rubble to do it. He was a force of nature colliding with the robot army, grabbing and flinging them blocks away, clubbing them into fragments and then stomping on the maintenance drones that arrived to clean up. He fought until his club shattered and he was wading through knee-deep piles broken automaton pieces.
The entire time the Hulk pummeled and crushed the robots, the small white sphere flitted about the Hulk’s head, continuing to attempt to reason with him, as well as using his scanning beams to adjust the emerald’s brutes’ emotions in the hopes the Hulk would end this brutal conflict. It struggled to be heard over the cacophony of the battle. Its tinny voice sounding more plaintive and desperate as it was battered by flying debris and struggled to grab the Hulk’s attention.
“Violence is an unacceptable response…”
“If you wish to submit to an independent arbiter…”
“It is advised that you desist, the city systems are here to…”
“Your vital signs are exhibiting numerous stress registers…”
“Strenuous activity such as this can deplete organic beings of vital fluids and nutrients. Might this unit suggest a beverage…?”
The fighting raged for hours and the cities efforts to subdue and contain the savage Hulk only seemed to heighten his anger and result in even more damage to the city itself.
Across the white city, lights began to flicker and nonessential systems were shut down, as the strain on the city’s power grid and infer-structure began to grow. Fewer robots arrived to replaced damaged ones or to clean up and repair them and soon, the Hulk was facing an ever-shrinking group of robots.
As he stomped the final paces to where the white pavement ended and the grey, sandy wastes began, there was no more than a dozen small robots scuttling and hovering around him, more nuiscence than threat.
With a final swat, the Hulk stepped up to the very edge of the city, his toes touching the coarse, hot sand. His breathing was heavy and his skin coated with a thick layer of sweat, dirt, scratches and bruises.
The sphere bot, sporting several dents and a generous coating of dirt, hovered at the Hulk’s shoulder. It too appeared to be weary.
“Stop…zzzt…it…is ad-ad-advised…this unit…please, stop…!”
The Hulk turned and looked thoughtfully at the battered drone. It looked plaintive and lost, like an abandoned pet.
“We…we… require…bzzzz…citizens…zzzt…or what…what…this unit’s purpose…?”
The Hulk reached out and his massive hand gently patted the robot.
He then began to walk away from the city. Several feet into the desert, the Hulk began to glow and the spell that allowed him to travel the multi-verse was activated and he faded out of sight.
Behind the sphere-bot, an assortment of the surviving robots struggled to gain their feet, treads or wheels, and began the long, extensive work of rebuilding the city and preparing for the arrival of new citizens.
The white drone bobbed for several minutes, its single eye blinking unsteadily.
“What…is…this…unit’s…pu-purpose…?” It muttered, before its eye flickered and went dark. It landed the sand with a dull thud.
Back at the crossroads, the puffball floated about the signpost, its many voices muttering to itself.
Suddenly, the Hulk reappeared, walking slowly and covered in dirt.
“Where have you been?” It demanded, floating around him.
The Hulk slumped down to the ground, returning to his spot, sitting with his back against the signpost and sighed.