One day after his arrival at the internet community Dramadramaduck, Bruce Banner found himself waiting for the impossible: a god to transport him across worlds, where he'd receive help from someone he knew only as Nagato Yuki. Bruce had no idea how old Yuki was, but from what he'd been able to gather she was a logical, reliable individual that
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He appeared -- simply appeared, without the theatrics that normally accompanied his and his family's entrances -- about a dozen yards away from where Bruce stood. His manner of dress was simple as well, but again, he wasn't out to impress, merely to serve as transport.
"Mr. Green," Apollo called out, raising a hand in greeting. "That is you, yes? I am Apollo."
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Nodding, he raised a hand as well. "Thanks for doing this," he said calmly, focusing on his breathing. He felt very much out of his element; he was about to cross transdimensional boundaries, and that broke all kinds of natural laws. A quick glance down at his wrist revealed his pulse was at ninety-three. High, but not too worrying. Enough time breathing properly and it would slow.
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"You have no means of compensating me for this, if I remember correctly -- that can be corrected later on, but for now, think of this as a free ride."
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"Ready when you are," he finished, although he didn't appear to be in any hurry. Patience was more than a virtue for him; it was a necessity. Even getting antsy was a risk. He checked his pulse - eighty-seven already. Good.
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"Do not hold your breath, take care to hold onto your bag -- it may be left behind, if you do not keep it close." He moved beside him, taking his arm, "Let's go."
The Canadian flatland around them shifted smoothly, almost like an earthquake in slow motion; it melted and faded away, the colors changing from the mundane shades of every day to brighter, higher contrasted shades of the animated Japan where Nagato Yuki lived. A school sprang out of nothingness, the grass that was under their feet a moment before was now sidewalk with naught but a imperfection, much like the rest of the new environment where they stood.
New noises, cicadas, foreign cars, foreign language, it came next, overcoming the momentary silence of world hopping that Apollo always hated. It was a relief to simply hear again, ( ... )
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