With the wretched serpent still under foot, a hulking greenness approached. Massive, angry, oh, very angry, its hands scrunched into deep fists. It readied itself to rend the archangel and twist him into feathers and fabric, all a-gossamer, all a-floating amid the hazy mead.
The ground thundered, the rage was endless, the sky, a deep red, the nearby lake, a teal glimmer. So awful was the gargantuan monstrosity that the dewy cherubs dabbling in watercolors and sporting over the mead flitted off in flickers and gleams, sparkly trails and glitter, fleeing in every way, in 360 degree ways, in awful terrains, over staccato hills, over grass and oceans, leading off toward the verge and its immense oneness.
A soft sweep of Michael's sword swept the green goliath into the sky and over the planet, dropping him into a primordial ocean with choppy waters, filled with unfolding trails and cryptic beasts. Greenness was not easily deterred. Greenness leapt out and over the curved continents in a wild, massive arc, landing feet away from the demur archangel. Greenness delivered a clobbering punch and Michael reeled, heaved and gasped, as he flew back and into a massive flustered yew.
This gentle fay of a messenger was not discouraged, only mildly psychically overwrought and twirling. He gathered himself and floated upward, his cheeks turning slightly rosy and touched with frustrated tints. His ivory wings spread wide as he approached the raging hulk with increasing menace and purpose. Onlookers swapped sides, realizing that the disarming innocence was now channeled, redirected to purpose for the occasion. The eyes squinted slightly. The muscled monster screamed: "Smash again. Silly man does not realize how strong Hulk is."
The seraphic eyes squinted to crescents and the sword loomed high in Michal's hand, growing beyond the laws of the universe, beyond brute strength, beyond newtonian mechanics, beyond any mechanics. The laws continued falling away into the entropic sea surrounding them both. The Hulk's eyes deepened with rage, but this angel was beyond strength and rage.
Just before the Hulk was thwacked into the lake of fire with a graceful swipe, he declouded for a lucid moment, sensing that the imminent display of power and lordship was beyond his ken, beyond what he could effectively neutralize or fathom. The blade's swaggering arc motion seemed almost prolonged, as if to taste the moment before the kill just a little bit longer, but angels are not capable of such measured spite and vengeance, and thus the coiling was simply vast. With this heart-sinking notion coalescing in the Hulk's wild but competent mind there was a conclusion to the vast sweep and then, silent contact:
As the Hulk hurled away from Michael, he followed the path of an arc beyond dimensions, beyond space and time, beyond string theory and multiverses, and it landed him in a lake of fire from which there was no escape.
Thus, the Hulk menace was gently and quickly disspelled by guardian Michael.