Bulk x Gabriel

Bulk leaned against the wall outside Kathlyn's room, arms crossed, sighing through his nose. Of course, she was taking forever.

"Kid, hurry it up," he called. "Your mum's waiting."

"I don't wanna go," Kathlyn shot back from inside, her voice muffled but full of defiance.

Bulk pinched the bridge of his nose. He should've expected this. "Yeah, well, neither do I, but here we are."

There was a loud thud—probably her flopping onto the bed in protest.

"Why do I have to go?" she grumbled. "It's going to be boring."

Bulk smirked slightly. "It's not a punishment, you know."

"It feels like one."

"Then stop dragging your feet, and you'll get it over with faster."

Silence. Then, begrudgingly, the sound of shuffling. A few seconds later, the door swung open, and Kathlyn stepped out, arms crossed and scowling. "Fine. But I'm not wearing a dress."

Bulk glanced down. She had thrown on a jacket over her usual clothes—practical, boyish, and slightly rumpled from how she'd probably wrestled with them before deciding they were good enough.

"Hell no. Your mum specifically said a dress." Bulk chastised "Get in there and change young miss."

Kathlyn huffed before storming back to her room.

He could hear her grumbling in protest on the other side of the door.

But he didn't mind the attitude. She was fiery, tough in a way that reminded him of her mother—but still, she was just a kid. She'd get over it in a couple of minutes.

After some time she opened the door, her blonde hair was tied neatly in a bun, her blue eyes matching the sea up dress she had on.

"You look stunning." Bulk said as he offered her his arm. With red cheeks, the little girl took it his arm.

But just then the alarms started blaring.

Bulk's easy mood evaporated instantly. His hand tensed around Kathlyn's as his communicator crackled to life.

"Bulk."

He tapped it, already annoyed. "Yeah, I hear it. What's going on now?"

"The lower levels," the commander's voice came through, sharper than usual carrying that slightly breathless strain she'd had for the past few months "You're needed down there and fast."

Bulk frowned. "Lower levels? I thought they were cleared?"

"Is that mum?"

Kathlyn asked and Bulk responded with a curt nod.

"If it's just some idiot messing around where they shouldn't, why the hell am I being sent?"

There was a pause—not hesitation, exactly, but something close to it.

"Fine I'll go myself," the commander said, irritation and strain threading through her voice.

Bulk's frown deepened.

"Fine, fine," he grumbled. "I'm going."

He turned, already heading toward the exit, but before he could take more than a few steps, Kathlyn yanked at his sleeve.

"I'm coming too."

Bulk glanced back. Her scowl had faded, replaced with something more determined.

"Hell no."

"But isn't this what I've been training for," she persisted.

"Kathlyn." Bulk said firmly. She seemed to realize herself then slowly pulling her hand away.

Bulk smirked then, ruffling her hair. "You'll get your chance soon enough short stack."

She still didn't look convinced, but after a moment. She said, "Be careful."

"I always am."

And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving Kathlyn all alone outside her door with a face curled in hesitation.

***

When the alarm had gone off a part of Bulk couldn't help but feel irritated. He hated working and now just when his shift was about to end there was an emergency in the lower levels.

And as usual, he heroically sprung into action.

It didn't take him much time to reach the lower levels of the research facility. There were multiple lifts that made the trip almost unnoticeable– especially after the most recent touch ups that were made after the attack.

Luckily, he had made it just in time to prevent a naked kid from turning the small troops they had left over into mangled corpses.

The blow he had tanked from him was so terrifying he doubted his arm would've remained the same if he took it without coating his arm with mana.

His arms still ache all over. It was sort of exhilarating.

He stared at the young boy, he looked to be somewhere between fourteen and fifteen Bulk couldn't tell. He is older than Kathlyn though that much was certain.

It wasn't long before an expressionless voice whispered into his ears "Don't kill him if you can, I'm still searching for his fail-safe."

The commander's voice came through only seconds after; "Restrain him and if you can't kill him. His existence puts the rest of the populace in danger."

Bulk was a bit taken aback. He wasn't really interested in harming the kid. So he pushed with caution not even coating his mace with mana.

The kid was already missing an arm. How much more damage could he possibly cause? Strangely enough the young boy had almost no issues evading.

But eventually Bulk had him cornered ready to incapacitate him with a swift blow to the head.

But just then the air trembled.

The kid's bare knuckles met his steel mace sending shockwaves rippling through the storage unit.

That wasn't the strangest part, though. What really caught him off guard was the fact that his arm which was missing only moments ago had just reappeared.

Now they were back on equal footing.

Every time his mace clashed against the boy's fist, the vibrations cracked through the room, rattling the guards who stood far away.

Bulk, the hero standing against him, gritted his teeth.

"This ain't right," he muttered under his breath.

The boy's strikes weren't just strong—they were matching him.

Blow for blow. Every time Bulk adjusted his strength, shifting the weight behind his swings, the kid did the same. It was as if the boy were mirroring his power. But not quite.

Nah, that's impossible.

He's just a kid, Bulk thought. But no kid should be able to do this.

A bead of sweat rolled down his temple.

"Kid! Stop this!" Bulk barked between blows.

Gabriel's narrowed eyes flashed. "You attacked first."

Bulk hesitated, just for a second.

The kid's voice was sharper than he expected—far too calm for a boy his age.

They stared each other down, fists still clenched.

For a brief moment, neither moved.

Then—

"Bulk! Stop messing around and take him down!"

The commander's voice exploded through Bulk's transmitter.

"If you can't capture him, kill him!"

Bulk exhaled sharply. The stress was starting to set in—he was supposed to be in bed right now, not wrestling with some freakishly strong fourteen-year-old. His grip tightened around the handle of his mace.

"Listen, kid. I don't want to kill you, but if you keep this up, I won't have a choice. Just come quietly, and we can figure this out."

His voice was harsher than he intended, but he didn't have time to speak warmly.

The boy seemed like he had finally listened.

But the next second his muscles tensed—then he bolted.

"Shit!" Bulk cursed.

The guards fired.

Bullets streaked through the air, but the boy wasn't moved. His eyes flicked to a jagged piece of steel on the ground—a twisted fragment of shrapnel. In a flash, he grabbed it, swinging it like a makeshift blade.

The bullets never reached him.

With frightening precision, the kid cut through the incoming rounds, deflecting them midair. Sparks scattered across the floor, the metallic clatter of ricochets filling the space, leaving Bulk in awe.

Then he moved again—straight for the hallway.

"Don't let him reach the exit!" the commander bellowed through Bulk's earpiece.

Bulk lunged forward, but—

Gabriel pivoted, swinging his fist into a smaller crate beside him.

With a single punch, he had the crate barrelling towards the door, drawing sparks as it skidded across the concrete. The boy following closely behind it.

The guards scrambled out of the way, just in time for the crate to slam into the entrance, blocking their path.

The boy meanwhile had managed to leap over the crate before it met the door, successfully separating himself from the guards.

Bulk skidded to a stop, staring at the crate that blocked their path.

His grip on his mace tightened.

"Damn it."

He shoved the crate aside and surged forward, but Gabriel was already gone, disappearing into the maze of concrete hallways ahead.

Just then Bulk's transmitter crackled. "Status?"

Bulk exhaled sharply. "I wasn't enough to contain him," he admitted. His fingers flexed over his mace. "And if we aren't quick, we're going to lose him."

Static filled the line before the commander's voice cut through, sharper than before. "I'm coming down there."

Bulk stiffened. "What?"

"He's getting too far. I'll handle this myself."

"No," Bulk said immediately. "You can't—"

The line clicked dead.

"Shit."

Bulk swore under his breath and reached for his communicator again, switching to the central command frequency. "This is Bulk. I'm in Subsection B-12, pursuing the target. I need immediate—"

A voice interrupted him.

Soft. Sweet. Innocent.

"Thanks, Uncle Ben."

Bulk froze.

The device nearly slipped from his grip. The voice was too familiar, too smug.

His stomach dropped.

"Kathlyn," he barked. "You better not–

The connection cut off before he could finish.

The creeping cold along the walls told him all he needed to know, though.

"I hate teenagers."