The Arizona desert sprawled out under a blood-red sunset, a desolate expanse that seemed to stretch into infinity. Bruce Banner trudged through the arid landscape, his every step a struggle against the weight of his past. The air was thick with the scent of impending rain, a storm brewing on the horizon. Banner knew he couldn't outrun his demons forever. The monster within him, the Hulk, was a ticking time bomb, and he could feel the tremors beneath his skin. He had hoped the isolation would grant him some peace, but fate had other plans. As the first drops of rain began to fall, he heard the distant hum of engines, a sound that sent a chill down his spine.

"Beneath my skin, rage simmers—a storm waiting to unleash its fury."

Out of the storm clouds emerged a convoy of military vehicles, their headlights piercing the growing darkness. Leading them was General Thaddeus “Thunderbolt” Ross, his face a grim mask of determination. “Banner!” he shouted through a megaphone, his voice barely audible over the rising wind. “You can’t hide from us. Surrender now, and no one has to get hurt.” Banner’s heart pounded as he felt the familiar surge of adrenaline, the beast within him stirring. He knew Ross wouldn’t give up; the General had been hunting him for years, driven by a relentless obsession. Banner’s eyes darted around, searching for an escape, but there was nowhere to run.

"In the quiet before the chaos, they forget that anger wears my face."

As the soldiers closed in, Banner’s breaths grew ragged, his vision blurring. He could feel the Hulk clawing its way to the surface, a force of nature that couldn’t be contained. “No… not now…” he muttered, clutching his head in agony. But it was too late. With a primal roar, his body convulsed, muscles expanding, skin turning a deep shade of green. The transformation was swift and brutal, a testament to the raw power that lay dormant within him. The Hulk emerged, a titan of rage and destruction, his eyes burning with an unquenchable fire. The soldiers faltered, fear flickering in their eyes, but Ross stood firm, his resolve unshaken.

"The beast within is my curse and my salvation; tonight, it will be their nightmare."

“Open fire!” Ross commanded, and the night erupted in a hail of bullets and rockets. The Hulk bellowed, a sound that reverberated through the very earth, and charged forward. The bullets bounced harmlessly off his thick hide, the rockets barely slowing him down. He tore through the vehicles with ease, a whirlwind of fury and strength. Soldiers scattered like leaves in a storm, their weapons useless against the unstoppable force. In the chaos, Ross watched with a mix of awe and frustration, realizing that conventional tactics were futile. He needed a new plan, a way to contain the beast without destroying Banner in the process.

"They think they can control the monster, but I am the wrath that cannot be chained."

As the battle raged on, a shadowy figure observed from a nearby ridge. Clad in advanced tactical gear, their eyes gleamed with cold intelligence. This was no ordinary soldier; it was a mercenary known only as Taskmaster, a master strategist and combatant. He studied the Hulk’s movements, analyzing every strike, every roar. A plan formed in his mind, a way to turn the tide. With a signal to his hidden team, Taskmaster prepared to engage. The Hulk, momentarily distracted by the new threat, paused, his rage-filled eyes locking onto the mercenary. The storm intensified, lightning illuminating the dark sky as Taskmaster advanced, a sinister smile playing on his lips. The true battle was about to begin, and the outcome would change everything.