Hulk, now older and grayer, sits hunched in his father’s favorite chair. His massive hands clutch a faded photograph, his eyes reflecting memories of battles and laughter. The quiet is broken only by the distant rumble of thunder outside.

Sarathi, the villain, steps into the room. Tall and menacing, with a cruel smile, he drips rainwater onto the patterned rug. His shadow falls across Hulk, who looks up, muscles tensing despite his age. "Well, well, the mighty Hulk has become an old man,"

"Sarathi, I may be older, but I am not powerless. Why are you here?" "I’ve come to finish what I started. You ruined my plans years ago. Tonight, I claim my revenge,"

Hulk, despite his age, summons his strength. His green skin glows faintly, muscles bulging as he pushes back against Sarathi. The villain grins, wielding a device pulsating with dark energy, trying to overpower the hero. "Your hatred gives you power, but it blinds you to what really matters,"

"You’re weak, Hulk! Admit it!" Hulk glances at the photograph of his family, finding resolve in their faces. With a roar, he channels his inner strength, not from anger, but from love. The energy around Sarathi flickers and fades as Hulk’s power overwhelms him.

Hulk kneels to pick up the photograph, cradling it gently. He looks at Sarathi, now powerless, and speaks softly. "Revenge never heals, Sarathi. Find peace before it’s too late."