Make Hulk Submit!

Bruce Banner lay sprawled on the cold metal floor, his back pressed against the hard edges of the Control Panel.

Like a stranded fish, he opened and closed his mouth uselessly. Sweat and some unknown slime mixed with blood, running down his trembling chin.

He looked at Stephen Fang floating before him, his eyes seeming to clutch at the last straw soaked in despair.

"It... it won't listen to me!"

"Hulk! That bastard! Damn it. He's throwing a tantrum! No matter how I beg him, it's useless! Can you... can you talk to it? It's just completely impossible to reason with—"

Before he could finish, Stephen Fang's eerie Nine Tomoe Rinnegan suddenly erupted with soul-seizing red light!

Bzzz—

The red light became tangible blood-red arrows that instantly pierced Banner's bloodshot pupils!

Banner's rambling stopped abruptly. He went limp like a puppet with its strings cut, his gaze instantly scattering and freezing into vacant confusion.

He remained frozen in that pose of grasping for a lifeline.

Bruce Banner's mental ocean.

This damned place looked like it had just been plowed through by a Gamma Storm, then roasted by Ururu's veteran barbecue.

Fragments of broken memories drifted and collided like colorful shards of glass amid chaotic currents of consciousness, producing piercing noise. Anxiety, fear, and suppressed emotions bubbled like thick dark-green crude oil, giving off a nauseating sulfurous stench.

Stephen Fang swam upstream through this filthy, chaotic "ocean" like an unwelcome fish.

The red light of his Rinnegan swept across those swirling masses of negative emotion. Like a red-hot branding iron passing through butter, it hissed and evaporated a path forward.

Ignoring the screaming phantoms of fear and twisted self-doubt, he headed straight for the depths of this mental ruins, toward the sole source still radiating primitive, violent, and deeply pent-up life