1 Chapter 1

"To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield" - Ulysses

Year 2154

I have grown old, relatively speaking, though I have watched all my friends and family die, I continue to live on. There was a time when the mysteries of this world kept me going, but that time has long gone. The Earth is on the precipice of collapse now, but even with all my knowledge and strength, I am unable to make a difference.

Going against these giant corporations has remained beyond my strength. The web of bureaucracy still eludes me, for all I am is a scientist.

They have begun deep space exploration and found a planet with a habitat to sustain life. They have asked me to go along with them for "research," is what they tell me. I have seen some pictures of the place; it radiates life unlike anything I have ever seen before. Dying on such a beautiful planet doesn't seem to be a bad idea. The thought lingers in my head as I fall asleep.

I wake up the next day, wearily get up, shower, eat, and meditate. The showers never run hot anymore, the meals have been rather bland with all that's left, and the days mush together into an endless static vignette of the same routine, or maybe it's just a part of getting old. Then I go to my lab. I have been trying to develop genetically modified plants that would survive on just a glass of water by increasing their natural abscisic acid content to prevent the loss of water through transpiration.

But my mind is not what it used to be, neither is my body. Sustaining the form of Hulk has become harder than ever. Heck, I don't even remember when the last time I transformed was, or if I could even do it still. I turn on my computer, and the mail pops up. They still want me on that ship and are waiting for my reply. I divert my attention to work. After a while, I am jolted to hear a knock on my door, not really a common sound anymore. I have lived alone, secluded in a faraway forest for the better part of the last 40 years, but I decided to move back to the city to help the people in what little way I can.

I open the door, and it's my neighbor Nate.

He has a solid and sturdy build that hints at physical strength. His broad shoulders and muscular frame suit his role of security in the corporation. However, one can notice a subtle slouch in his posture, as if carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. This weary stance speaks to the emotional burden he carries within.

"Hi Bruce, how are you doing?" he says with a monotone, which seems to be prevalent in most people these days.

"Come in, Nate. I am doing just fine."

"I hope I am not interrupting anything. I was just on my way to the hospital, thought I'd drop by and say my greetings."

I look at the door which has my lab on the other side, inspecting whether it's been shut properly, not out of secrecy, but more so because I am scared they will see through my failures.

"Nah, nothing important. Come on in."

He walks in with short strides, as if questioning his presence here. "Hey, have you seen the news? They are launching that ship to that planet in a couple of days. Feels like they're just gonna abandon us here, eh?"

"They said they'll be coming back once they have completed their preliminary research," I said, unsure of my own words.

"That's just corporate for 'you're on your own, suckers!'" he sighs.

"Are you okay, Nate?" I ask, catching a seeming indifference in my voice. It's not that I don't care, but then the world is just a bleaker place, and I would be pleasantly surprised if someone said, 'Yes, Bruce, everything's wonderful. Why do you ask?'

I sort of know where this is going, but I wait for a response. After a few seconds of silence, he speaks, faintly at first, with his voice growing louder with every word.

"It's just..."

"Just?"

"You know my daughter Sylvie and her condition has gotten worse recently, and... I just don't know what to do anymore," says Nate, wearily, followed by a short pause.

"You know, they say there are beings on that planet that live longer than humans and are much stronger than us, and some believe they are immune to all kinds of diseases. If only we could live like that, wouldn't that be wonderful?" he says, as his voice grows faint again, as if someone had beaten the last remaining sparks of hope out of him.

"Living long isn't always the solution. True strength does not come from any form of physical ability. True strength comes from inside us, our hearts, our will to do what's good and right. True strength is a father fighting for his daughter's survival," I say, which may be the last few words that I still believe in.

"Yeah, yeah, sure," he scoffs. "Is it really strength if you can see what's coming and yet can't do anything about it? I don't know, man. I just feel like the weakest person around, a father who can't even save his daughter."

I don't have any words, maybe back when I was still younger and hopeful, but now I don't know what to say anymore. I have secluded myself from this world for the last 40 years, and the world has pulled away from me. After a few moments of silence, he stands up.

"Hey, sorry, Bruce, I didn't want to ruin your day like that. I should get going now; I have to go get some reports," as he starts walking towards the door.

"If I could take my daughter on that ship, I would damn well trade anything for it," he says, unlocking the door.

"But in the end, we are all just weak," as he shuts the door behind him.

Pandora, that's what they call it in the briefings I got. They want me to study the biology of plant and animal life, more importantly, if they pose a threat in terms of any radiation or disease. It's quite fascinating to see the pictures. There is bioluminescence on Earth, but not to such a degree or vibrancy. The whole forest glows at night, and to such brilliance. Could it be radiation to some extent? I won't lie. I am a bit intrigued.

Quite often, when I find myself in a tough spot, I would ask myself, "What would Steve do?" But I don't think even Steve would have an answer for it. I doze off, sitting in my chair, lost in thought. It's not an uncommon occurrence for me anymore. Suddenly, I am awakened by another knock on the door.

As I open the door and catch a glimpse of a man in a black suit, I quickly shut the door.

"Bruce! Open the door. Let's have a chat, Bruce," the man in the black suit says, as if we were old schoolmates.

"Mr. Banner, we know who you are, and we know what you're capable of. You would be quite a valuable asset on this mission. Together, we could save millions, if not billions, of lives. Do you want to sit in your little hole and watch the world rot away, or do you want to be part of something much greater? Something that could bring humanity back to its glory days?" says the man in the black suit, his voice becoming more formal and stern.

"And what about that planet? What happens to the species and natives living there? What if they refuse to accept an alien civilization entering their planet?" I ask.

"We have assembled a team for that, to learn, adapt, and teach them that we are not a threat, and we can coexist. Look, Mr. Banner, I cannot divulge any more information, but we have developed ways to infiltrate and integrate..."

He is interrupted by a phone call. After a couple of moments of mumbling, he continues.

"I will be leaving now, Bruce. You have one day to reconsider. We would love to have you onboard. If you change your mind, you know how to get in touch, I believe."

With that, I hear the sound of footsteps walking away. I go back to my lab and start working. This new serum looks promising, but I know better than to get my hopes up again. I inject the serum at the base of the plant and place it in a transparent hot box to simulate dry weather conditions. However, after a while, the plant starts to wither and bend over. Without transpiration, the flow of water to the top layer stops.

"Another failure!" I sigh and look out of the window. The streets are mostly empty, and the sun is about to set. I get up and walk to the kitchen to prepare something that resembles porridge but tastes even worse. As I am about to go to bed, I hear a loud, incessant banging on my door once again.

"Bruce! Bruce! Are you in there? Are you awake?" I hear Nate.

I shuffle towards the door and open it. I see Nate, short of breath and life drained from him. He looks like he has aged five years in the last five hours.

"Are you okay?" I ask, this time not having to feign concern.

"What happened? Is Sylvie okay?" I inquire.

"Sylvie is fine... for now," he says, his face dropping.

"I don't know what to do. They say there is nothing more they can do for Sylvie, and that I should take her home and live out whatever days she has left," he says, with a tone of anger.

"I... I don't understand. Are they telling me to give up on her? How could I do that? She is all I have left in this godforsaken world, and I cannot lose her too," he says as tears well up in his eyes.

"There has to be something I can do, Bruce! Tell me there is a way I can save her!" he says, followed by silence and tears streaming down his face.

I stand there, contemplating something I could say or do to help him. For a moment, I consider the possibility of giving her my blood. But now, more than ever, the risk is far greater. The chances of her survival would be negligible.

Nate wipes his tears. "Sorry, I don't know what I expected coming here. Maybe I just needed a friend for a moment."

"Hey, it's alright. Things will be alright. You need to be strong for her," I say, my words trailing off.

He looks directly at me. "Strong?" he chuckles. "Yeah, sure, I'll be strong."

As he walks toward the door and prepares to leave, I say, "Nate, I'm sorry. I wish I could help, but I... you're always welcome to drop by anytime," as I search for the right words.

He looks back as he opens the door, mustering a small smile or a really bad attempt at one, and says, "Thanks, Bruce," before leaving.

I lie down, staring at the ceiling of my room. I haven't felt this helpless in a while. Then again, I haven't had anything that I cared about in a while. As I lie there restlessly, a sudden glimpse of the conversation comes to my mind. The man in the suit was trying to say something about infiltrating and blending with the Na'vi. I wonder what that was about?

I toil for probably another 15-20 minutes, although it feels much longer. Finally, I put my feet down, push myself up, and reach for the phone.

There is a small part of me that wishes the phone wouldn't be answered, but I wait with each ring, uncertain of what I'm doing.

"Hey! Mr. Banner," he says, with a tone of excitement that annoys me.

"Hi."

"I didn't expect you to call. But I'm glad you did. So... how can I help you?"

"Earlier today, you mentioned something about blending in with the native population. How exactly are you planning to do that?"

"You know I can't tell you that unless you come along."

"If you let me know, maybe I would," I say coyly.

"Rest assured, we are not harming them in any way. It's a process of cloning and transferring the consciousness of the person into them," he says.

"How did you achieve that?" I ask.

"Now, now, Mr. Banner... I have already said too much. Anything further could put me at risk," he says.

I remain silent for a while.

"Well, I hope you have reconsidered," he says.

"I have a few conditions," I say.

"You know you're not really in a position to make demands, but I will try to accommodate you to the best of my ability," he says.

"I want to bring someone with me... a girl," I say.

"A girl?" he questions.

"A friend whose only chance of survival could be on that planet."

"Ah, I see... We all have our reasons to leave this planet. That's a tough one, though. I don't know if it would be possible. Each person on that ship has a specific purpose, a role to fill. That girl would just be dead weight."

"HEY!" I yell at him.

"Sorry about that..."

"Is that all, or anything else?" he asks.

"I would just like to find a cure for her. I would work on it in my own time," I say.

"I'll see what I can do," he says with a stoic voice, followed by a beep indicating the call being cut.

I slowly walk towards my bed and sit down with a loud thud. What have I done? What would Nate say? Would he even agree to this? How could I save her? What if I fail? Again. The uncertainty of it all now makes me tremble. This terrible feeling won't go away. It's like a hand clutching my heart, my mouth drying up. I reach for a few sleeping tablets in my bedside drawer, shakily pour myself a glass of water, spilling a bit, and gulp down three tablets at once.

I wake up the next day feeling disoriented. I get up to check my phone. There's a message from the guy. "Call me," it says.

First, I take a shower.

"Hi, Mr. Banner. You're up early," he greets me.

I look at the time. It's 10 am.

"Early, considering you wouldn't have gotten much sleep last night after our talk," he adds.

I say nothing.

"Well, you see, the higher-ups... they are less considerate about your predicament."

"Then I'm not coming either," I spit out the words rapidly, a part of me hoping to bring them into existence.

"Don't be so hasty, Bruce. However, I have managed to convince them on the condition that all your research and findings would be the sole property of the company..."

"Including any findings on the girl and any requests/orders given by the command are to be obeyed."

Skeptical, I ask, "What do you intend to do once we have completed our research?"

He ignores my question.

"Take your time and let us know your answer. Don't take too long, though. We leave tomorrow."

I walk to Nate's flat and gently knock on his door. Maybe he's not home. I start to walk back, but then I see them in the corridor. Nate is pushing the wheelchair while Sylvie is speaking to him.

She turns and looks at me. "Hello, Uncle Banner," she speaks with a slightly high-pitched excited voice.

"Hi, Sylvie," I smile.

"You're an asshole, you know that?" she says.

I am taken aback with shock and a mild fear of what's to come, making it difficult for me to speak.

"Sylvie!" says Nate.

"I was in the hospital for a whole week, and you didn't come to visit," she says angrily.

I wanted to. I really did. But it felt like a noose tied to the door of my house and my neck. The farther I went, the tighter it got. I couldn't bear to see the suffering around me, so I locked myself in my own house. What was the point of moving back to the city? I asked myself. What did I hope to achieve?

I stood there disappointed in myself and uttered the words, "I'm sorry..."

"Well, he's here now... Where are you going? Come on in," says Nate with a smile as he walks towards the door to unlock it.

"I shouldn't interrupt. I'll be back later," I say.

"That's ridiculous. She's been waiting to see you all this time," says Nate.

I walk in and take a seat.

"Hey, I'm the one dying, not you," she says, looking at my face.

"It's alright. I forgive you, if..."

"If?" I raise my head slightly, instinctively excited as this is the chance for repentance.

"If you show me what new thing you're working on."

I smile faintly. "It's nothing, another failure."

"Are you really gonna say no to a dying girl?" she says.

"Sylvie, come on," Nate interjects as he enters the room with a couple of beers.

"Ah, sweet, my first beer," says Sylvie.

"No, don't touch that. What are you, twelve?" says Nate.

"I'm seventeen, Dad, practically an adult."

"Practically," he chuckles.

Nate looks at me. "What's up, Bruce? You've been silent since you came. Did something happen? It's not usual for you to show up at my place. Usually, it's me intruding into yours."

"I have to speak to you about something," I say hesitantly.

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