"Ahhhhhh!"
Dracula's eyes, mouth, and ears glowed with blinding light as cracks formed across his skin, revealing a blazing red glow from within. The temperature was absurdly high, and his disbelief was evident as his body started to mutate into a monstrous form. Yet, even with this transformation, the Extremis Virus coursing through his veins continued its rampant spread.
"Blade!"
Dracula, realizing his imminent demise, made one last desperate attempt to take the Blade down with him. However, the Blade Warrior stood his ground, looking first at his gun, then at the dying Dracula.
"That worked? What is this, holy water blessed by the Pope?"
Blade was astonished by the weapon's power. He'd tried everything—crosses, holy water, garlic—but none had ever worked on vampires. Even so, this seemed too effective to be true.
Seeing Dracula still struggling to make one last strike, Blade fired a few more shots into him, each bullet hitting home. Dracula, despite his monstrous transformation, was helpless as the Extremis Virus ravaged his body. With every bullet, red-hot light radiated from Dracula's wounds, consuming him.
"Blade…!" Dracula snarled, trying to utter a final curse before his body melted entirely. His immense strength and ancient power had kept the vampire virus in him alive longer than expected, but even the mighty Dracula could not escape the viral onslaught. The temperature around him spiked as his body finally disintegrated into molten remains.
Watching the remnants of Dracula merge into magma, Blade confirmed that the vampire king would not rise again. This new weapon Zod had provided was incredibly effective, and Blade decided to keep the remaining Extremis Virus bullets. They could prove useful against future enemies like the vampire king, Blood God La Magra, or even Lilith, the vampire goddess.
As promised, Blade handed over the Morningstar Virus to Zod. Zod didn't ask where the remaining Extremis Virus bullets went—he knew Blade would only use them responsibly, and any research done by Blade's companion, Whistler, wasn't a real concern. Even if things went wrong, Zod believed the Sorcerer Supreme, Doctor Strange, would handle it.
Doctor Strange: ...
Zod's focus then shifted back to the Hulk Serum, which the Black Queen notified him might be compromised. He immediately became concerned. Despite all his ongoing experiments, the Hulk Serum remained a valuable asset. Upon investigation, Zod found that the cause of this was General Thaddeus "Thunderbolt" Ross.
War machines like the ones Zod developed were highly valuable to modern warfare. These machines, designed with advanced tactical and strategic capabilities, were perfect for high-risk decapitation strikes against enemy leadership. Their biggest strength wasn't just speed, firepower, or defense, but the ability to be mass-produced. This set them apart from super-soldier projects like those involving Captain America or the Hulk, whose powers couldn't be replicated.
General Ross had spent years and millions trying to capture the Hulk, going as far as using small nuclear warheads in his pursuit. The Hulk survived unscathed, but the losses were catastrophic, both in terms of financial burden and the damage to Ross's reputation. His failures, compounded by congressional dissatisfaction, eventually led to the dissolution of his Hulk project and the disbanding of his task force.
Ross's grand ambitions of becoming an Air Force General were dashed. Instead, he was demoted from Lieutenant General to Lieutenant Colonel, a sharp fall in rank despite the backing of his family and his late wife's connections. Had it not been for those political ties, he would have faced a military court and possibly been imprisoned.
Now a Lieutenant Colonel, Ross found himself stationed at a remote airbase, stripped of real power and drinking heavily every day, drowning in his sorrows. His once-promising career had reached a dead end.
"A rye whiskey," Ross muttered to the bartender as he sat slumped at the bar.
"General Ross, or should I say Lieutenant Colonel Ross now," a familiar voice spoke next to him.
Ross turned and saw Zod, the man who had indirectly contributed to his downfall. He recognized him despite the alcohol dulling his senses.
"You ruined me," Ross grumbled, getting up from the bar, intent on leaving.
Zod, unfazed, steadied the stumbling Ross. "Lieutenant Colonel Ross, would you like to change your fate?"
"Get lost," Ross slurred angrily.
"Perhaps I should rephrase," Zod continued with a calm smile. "Would you like to become the Hulk?"
Ross stopped, stunned by Zod's words.
"I have the means to make you a Hulk, but more than that, you'll be a Hulk who's in control of his mind. How about it?"
Zod was planning to bring Red Hulk into the picture early, and he had the means to do so with the serum. There wasn't much difference between the Red Giant Serum and the Hulk Serum anyway.
Ross left the bar without a word, but Zod wasn't worried. He knew men like Ross—driven by pride and ambition. He wouldn't be able to resist for long. And as expected, after trying all other avenues for a few days and failing, Ross came to Zod.
After days of fruitlessly seeking help from old connections and political allies, Ross had to face the reality of his ruined career. Even though he didn't like Zod, he knew Zod's genius was undeniable. If anyone could turn him into the Hulk and restore his power, it was him.
Zod, with the Black Queen ensuring no traces were left behind and his own telepathic and electromagnetic powers shielding the truth, kept the S.H.I.E.L.D. and any other agency from interfering. If Nick Fury or S.H.I.E.L.D. had known about Zod's dealings with Ross, they would have undoubtedly intervened.
But now, with Ross fully on board, Zod had everything he needed to initiate the Red Hulk project.