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Marvelous Meditations #78
🕑 Added 2025-03-18 14:13:07 +0000 UTCThe hum of the Danger Room’s high-tech systems echoed as Nathan Cross stood on the observation platform, arms crossed, eyes sharp as he watched the young X-Men push themselves through another training session. The simulation flickered around them, morphing into a war-torn cityscape riddled with Sentinels.
Below, Rogue rocketed through the air, her enhanced strength tearing a metal behemoth apart at the seams. Jean Grey stood at the center of the battlefield, her eyes glowing with telekinetic force as she hurled debris and enemies aside with effortless precision.
Bobby Drake (Iceman) skated across the battlefield, ice trailing beneath his feet as he launched frozen spikes at an incoming wave of hostiles. Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler) disappeared in a burst of brimstone smoke, reappearing behind a Sentinel’s head to deliver a well-placed explosive charge.
And Kitty Pryde? She weaved through the chaos like a ghost, phasing through attacks and disrupting enemy formations before phasing out to let the others finish the job.
Nathan watched with a scrutinizing eye. They were good—better than most gave them credit for. But they still had weaknesses, gaps in their coordination, moments where their instincts weren’t fully honed.
“Simulation complete.”
The battlefield dissolved, revealing the metallic walls of the Danger Room once more. The young X-Men stood, catching their breath as the adrenaline settled.
Nathan gave a nod. “Not bad.”
Rogue smirked, brushing dust off her gloves. “Not bad? Sugar, I just ripped the head off a three-story tin can.”
“Yeah, and if Jean wasn’t covering your flank, you’d have been toast a minute earlier,” Nathan countered, his tone even. “You’ve got power, but don’t get cocky.”
Jean chuckled, arms crossed. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Bobby wiped sweat from his brow, shaking his head. “Man, you’re impossible to impress.”
Nathan didn’t argue. Instead, he turned toward Logan, who had just walked in, his usual scowl in place.
“Cross,” Logan called, voice rough. “If you wanna see Ross get what’s coming to him, now’s the time.”
Nathan didn’t hesitate. “Let’s go.”
The team followed him out of the Danger Room, a tense silence settling over them as they moved through the halls toward the media room.
...
The television screen flickered to life, displaying a packed courtroom. General Thaddeus Ross sat at the defendant’s table, his face hard as stone, his eyes burning with a quiet, simmering rage. The judge—a stern-looking woman—read out the verdict.
“General Thaddeus E. Ross, this court finds you guilty of illegal human experimentation, war crimes, and conspiracy against national security. Your actions have led to the deaths of countless individuals, and for that, you are hereby sentenced to—”
Ross stood abruptly, his chains rattling as his fists clenched. The courtroom fell silent.
“You self-righteous cowards,” he spat, his voice like gravel, thick with venom. “You sit there in your robes, in your seats of power, pretending you don’t need men like me. That you don’t sleep safer at night because of the choices I made!”
His voice rose, the fury in him barely contained.
“I did what was necessary! While the rest of you held your hands up in surrender, I fought the wars you didn’t have the stomach for! I bled, I burned, I sacrificed so this country could survive. And now? Now you throw me to the wolves because you don’t like how I kept you safe?”
Rogue exhaled sharply, arms crossed. “Damn, he really thinks he’s the hero in all this.”
Nathan watched, silent. He knew Ross better than most. Men like him saw themselves as martyrs, not the monsters they truly were.
Ross turned to face the judge, his eyes dark and unrelenting. “You want to put me in a cage? Fine. But remember this—you’ll need men like me again. And when you do… I won’t be there.”
Then, before anyone could react, he pulled a small device from his sleeve and stabbed it into his arm.
Nathan’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, hell.”
The transformation was instant.
Ross’s body bulged, muscles expanding grotesquely, his veins glowing a deep crimson as his skin darkened, burning into a furious, molten red. His uniform shredded as his frame grew to twice its size, his eyes turning into glowing embers of rage.
Then he roared.
The shockwave shattered the courtroom windows, knocking people to the floor.
Screams erupted as Ross—no, the Red Hulk—lunged.
The first blow crushed a bailiff into the marble wall, reducing him to nothing but a smear. Chaos exploded.
Gunfire erupted, but the bullets melted against his searing-hot skin.
With one brutal sweep of his arm, he sent dozens of people flying, their bodies slamming into desks, walls, breaking like glass.
Jean covered her mouth in horror. “Oh my God…”
Kitty whispered, “He’s killing them.”
Nathan’s fists clenched.
Ross—now something else entirely—grabbed a marble column and ripped it from the floor, using it like a club to demolish everything in his path.
Then, with one monstrous leap, he crashed through the ceiling and disappeared into the night.
The screen cut to static.
For a moment, the room was dead silent.
Then Logan let out a breath and muttered, “Well… shit. I know this ain't our area of experience, but we can't let him run loose...”
Bobby nodded his head. “This looks like a job for the X-men if I've ever seen one...”
Before anyone could say anything, Nathan slowly stood up, drawing everyone's attention. The cold look in his eyes made them swallow their words. Even Logan was looking at him with alarm and concern.
Nathan didn't even seem to register their reaction as he spoke firmly. “No. This is a job for me. You all stay out of it...”
...
The streets of New York were drowning in chaos. Sirens blared, helicopters circled overhead, and the air reeked of burning asphalt and blood. Military trucks formed crude barricades, their mounted guns spitting rounds that barely slowed the rampaging monster tearing through the city.
Thunderous footsteps shook the ground as Ross—now the Red Hulk—plowed through whatever dared stand in his path. Police cruisers flipped like tin cans, bodies sailed through the air like ragdolls, and every time a rocket or bullet struck his crimson hide, he barely seemed to notice.
A tank fired a shell at him. Ross caught it midair. With a snarl, he hurled it back, sending it crashing into a nearby building, where it detonated in a ball of fire.
Then came the impact—an unseen force slammed into Ross from above, sending him staggering backward, asphalt cracking beneath his feet. He let out a guttural growl, his glowing yellow eyes snapping up.
Nathan Cross landed smoothly a few feet away, his vibranium armor still humming with absorbed energy. His helmet retracted, revealing his face—calm, composed, and completely unfazed by the walking cataclysm in front of him.
Ross’ lip curled in recognition, rage boiling to the surface.
"Cross," he snarled. "I should’ve known you’d crawl out of whatever hole you were hiding in." He cracked his knuckles, the heat radiating off his body distorting the air. "You damn hyena."
Nathan ignored the insult. With a steady hand, he drew the Muramasa blade, its crimson edge gleaming ominously. He tilted his head slightly, his voice carrying just enough venom to cut deeper than any blade.
"I told you I'd make you pay," Nathan said. "For Lily. For every life you destroyed. This?" He gestured to the chaos around them—the burning streets, the terrified citizens running for cover, the soldiers and cops frozen in uncertainty. "This was all you. You just never thought it would come back to bite you."
Ross’ face twisted into a sneer, but Nathan kept going.
"The leaked documents, the media firestorm, the president turning on you—your own allies cutting you loose." He let the words sink in, watching as Ross’ breath grew heavier, his fists clenching. "I did that. You buried yourself in filth for decades, and I just made sure everyone saw it."
The veins on Ross’ neck bulged, his rage hitting its breaking point. "You—" His voice was a guttural snarl, barely human. "I should have killed you when I had the chance!"
Nathan gave him an icy look. "But you didn't, and now... now you get to experience the feeling of being hunted... except unlike your victims, you'll be getting exactly what you deserve."
With a roar, Ross launched himself forward, his massive fist hurtling toward Nathan like a wrecking ball.
In the distance, soldiers hesitated, unsure whether to open fire. Police officers clutched their weapons, torn between watching the battle unfold and obeying protocol.
Then, a familiar voice cut through the comms.
"Stand down."
Nick Fury strode onto the battlefield, his trench coat whipping in the wind, his single eye locked on the unfolding fight.
"Focus on evacuating the civilians," he ordered, his voice carrying the weight of authority. "Because this is about to get ugly."
And just like that, the final battle began.
...
The moment Ross lunged, the ground beneath him cracked and cratered from the sheer force of his launch. He was a red blur of fury and muscle, closing the distance between them in an instant.
Nathan barely had time to react before a massive fist swung toward his head. He twisted at the last second, narrowly dodging as Ross' strike obliterated the street behind him, sending asphalt and concrete flying in every direction.
Nathan retaliated instantly. His thrusters ignited with a sharp whoosh, propelling him up and over Ross. Twisting midair, he slashed downward with the Muramasa Blade, the crimson edge slicing clean through the space Ross had occupied a second earlier.
But the Red Hulk was fast. Too fast.
Ross twisted with unnatural agility for something his size, his massive palm catching Nathan mid-flight. A heartbeat later, Nathan was hurled like a ragdoll, crashing through a taxi and skidding across the pavement. His suit absorbed most of the impact, but it still rattled him.
"You always were too damn cocky," Ross sneered, rolling his shoulders. "Think that fancy suit makes you untouchable? That blade gonna save you?" He scoffed. "You think any of this changes what you are?"
Nathan wiped blood from his mouth, already feeling his Extremis-enhanced healing kick in.
"I'm still standing," he said coldly. "That’s more than I can say for you in a few minutes."
Ross let out a growl before he charged again, tearing a streetlamp from the sidewalk and swinging it like a club. Nathan barely ducked under it before the metal pole struck a building behind him, shearing through concrete like wet paper. The entire structure groaned before collapsing, a tidal wave of dust and debris sweeping through the streets.
Nathan shot forward, thrusters roaring as he weaved around Ross, slashing with the Muramasa Blade. The cursed steel bit into Ross’ arm, cutting deeper than any normal weapon could. Ross howled, but instead of retreating, he grinned through the pain.
"Oh, that’s cute," Ross snarled, his eyes gleaming with violent amusement. "You really think you can outlast me?"
He suddenly grabbed the wreckage of a nearby truck and threw it with terrifying ease. Nathan twisted in the air, narrowly avoiding being crushed as the vehicle exploded against another building. But Ross was already moving, already closing in.
Nathan barely had time to react before a punch sent him flying again—this time smashing him through the second floor of a department store. He crashed through shelves, shattered glass displays, and finally skidded to a stop amid wrecked mannequins and debris.
His suit was already adapting, redistributing energy where needed, but even with the Vibranium and Extremis healing, Ross was hitting hard.
Nathan forced himself up just as Ross burst through the wall like a wrecking ball.
"You see it yet, Cross?" Ross gestured around them, at the burning cars, the bodies lying broken in the streets, the civilians cowering behind police barricades. "All of this? This is your fault. You pushed me. You made this happen."
Nathan exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders as his helmet reformed around his face.
"You’re not wrong," he admitted. "I am a monster, Ross. Just like you." He took a step forward, the Muramasa Blade pulsing with its eerie glow. "The difference? I don’t lie to myself about it. No delusions of heroism. No martyr complex." He raised the blade, leveling it at Ross.
"I'll get my own retribution sooner or later. But not before I reduce you to nothing."
Ross’ sneer faltered for just a moment—then rage consumed him once more.
"Then come and try, boy! You are nothing more than a dog chasing cars!"
With a roar, Ross charged again, and the city trembled as their battle raged on.
