Marvelous Mutations

The missing limbs of the three soldiers had completely regrown.

But that wasn't the most terrifying part.

What truly shocked the observers behind the glass was their size.

All three men now towered at over two meters, with muscle mass that looked almost sculpted from steel. They radiated brute strength, every movement of their bodies seemed coiled with explosive potential.

Thankfully, their skin hadn't turned fully green like the Hulk. Instead, it had taken on a faint greenish tint, subtle, almost unnoticeable unless you looked closely.

And while their height was intimidating, it still hovered within the realm of human possibility. Just a bit taller than your average NBA player.

But their eyes… Those were impossible to ignore.

Radioactive green and faintly glowing, their gaze had an unnatural, oppressive intensity. One glance, and you'd feel a cold weight settle in your chest.

At that moment, the soldiers tested their new bodies. With a casual flex of their arms, they snapped the restraints like paper bands.

A feral glint appeared in their eyes.

This serum hadn't just altered their bodies, it had affected their minds too.

Their aggression was heightened. Their control, thinner.

The dark green solution synthesized from Hulk's blood had enhanced more than strength, it had magnified desires. Rage, and violent impulses.

Yet, even amid their changed physiology, something familiar remained.

The soldiers, breathing heavily, turned to face the bulletproof glass, and stood at attention.

With mechanical precision, they all performed a standard military salute.

Ross, watching from the other side, let a rare smile crease his usually stern face.

After years of relentless work, his gamble had finally paid off.

He turned on his heel and walked calmly toward his office.

"Run the initial diagnostics," he ordered, not bothering to look back. "Once they're cleared, send them to me."

…

Minutes later…

Inside his dimly lit office, General Ross sat behind his desk like a warlord on his throne.

Before him stood the three newly forged super soldiers, imposing, disciplined, deadly.

Ross leaned forward slightly, voice low and commanding.

"From now on, you answer only to me. No other orders matter. You're under my direct command. Understood?"

"Sir, yes sir!" The trio barked in perfect unison, their voices like thunder rumbling through the walls.

Ross's lips curled into a cruel smile.

"Good. Then here is your first assignment…"

He rose from his chair, walking slowly around the desk like a hunter circling prey.

"There's a grocery store on 58th Avenue. I want you to go there. Bring me the owner, a young man named Luke Yale."

He paused, eyes narrowing.

"And don't forget his dog."

Ross's hands clenched behind his back and muttered with repressed fury.

"That damned brat thinks he's untouchable. Let's see how smug he is once he's on my operating table."

…

Elsewhere, entirely unaware of the storm headed his way…

Luke Yale was engaged in his favorite daily ritual: walking the dog.

Yes, with Sharon present, the view on his home was pretty nice now, but no matter how beautiful a painting is, stare at it long enough and it eventually fades into the background.

So every evening, he and Doggo strolled through the streets of Manhattan, breathing in the neon-drenched energy of the city.

Tonight, Luke wore a tailored beige trench coat. And the gold-framed glasses perched on his nose gave him the air of a cultured academic. One hand in his pocket, the other casually holding Doggo's leash, he moved through the crowd at a leisurely pace, a living paradox among the hustle.

He let out a soft yawn, watching the working-class tide rushing past.

Such tragic creatures, he mused.

Still slaves to rent, bills, and bosses, such is the life of mortals.

Meanwhile, he had long since transcended such worries.

Well… mostly.

His wallet was embarrassingly empty.

His bank account wasn't faring much better.

And truth be told, most of the money in the stock market technically belonged to Wanda.

But details, details.

Besides, he no longer worried about wealth.

He had Sharon and Wanda managing the store.

He had free meals (when Wanda wasn't forcing him to fast in order to save money).

Sure, he still hadn't solved a few... personal needs, the type that would require getting a girlfriend or paying someone. But for the most part, his life was simple and stress-free.

Even when he was truly starving, all he had to do was toss something in the microwave, and if fate was kind, it might mutate into a dish worthy of a king.

So life was indeed quite good.

…

As Doggo waddled along the sidewalk, his fluffy bulk and silly face immediately attracted attention, especially from a group of fashionable young office women just coming off work.

Luke immediately adjusted his glasses, flashing a modest, intellectual smile, almost shy.

Doggo, meanwhile, basked in the attention, enthusiastically shaking his entire rear end just to wag his tail. The sight drew delighted laughter from the women.

Luke stood nearby, watching quietly with the pleased expression of a man who appreciated beauty, and knew exactly how to enjoy it without being creepy. A self proclaimed man of culture.

Yes, he thought, you really do have to leave the house to enjoy the scenery.

No matter how picturesque home may be, eventually the walls close in.

But just as he was enjoying the moment…

Trouble arrived.

Three towering figures emerged from the crowd, moving like wolves through sheep.

Each man was massive, each nearly two and a half meters tall, and wore military-style camouflage uniforms, black masks concealing their faces.

They didn't carry visible weapons, but they didn't seem to need it.

Their sheer physical presence was enough to draw gasps from passersby, who instinctively stepped back, parting like water around a jagged rock.

…