Solomon in Marvel

Shuri stormed off, her footsteps pounding against the marble floor like a ticking time bomb embedded in her shoes.

She knew that after seeing the human experimentation projects, her expectations of Solomon's moral limits had dropped significantly. Solomon had removed her from the project team precisely to keep her from interfering. She also realized that she had jumped to conclusions, misjudging him from the start.

But that didn't stop her from feeling furious about how Solomon had lectured her from his high horse.

What infuriated her even more was that some of the girls had been sent back untreated.

Yet Solomon had made his stance clear—those girls chose not to join the Sisters. They refused to alter the course of their fate, so the resources of the Eternal City should not be wasted on them.

He wasn't a good man.

He wasn't running a charity.

There were far too many people in this world to save, and he could only help a select few.

Rescuing those girls had only been a means to expand the Sisters' ranks.

Still, from a certain perspective, Solomon had done far more than most Western charities ever did.

He did not conduct secret drug trials on them.

He did not perform surgeries or injections without their knowledge.

He ordered medical prosthetics from Wakanda for the disabled girls.

And he even provided sewing machines for the weaker girls, letting them make clothes to give them the comforting illusion of feeling useful.

Alongside these humanitarian efforts, he had also granted them an education—on par with elite public school standards.

Stephanie personally curated their curriculum.

Jeanne volunteered to teach them after hearing about their suffering.

Even if Jeanne only saw this as a side gig to pass the time, and even if Stephanie's textbooks weren't perfect, their combined teaching qualifications far exceeded those of most schools.

Just by adding their names to a faculty list, any school's surrounding property values would jump by 50%.

For these girls, such education was something they could have never even dreamed of.

Now, it was theirs.

To waste them solely as weapons would be a travesty.

Solomon hadn't even been arrogant about it.

Yet Shuri just couldn't accept it.

Wakanda's royal princess had always been too smart for her own good.

King T'Chaka had raised her with absolute freedom.

She was allowed to study anything she wanted.

She was never forced to learn anything she didn't.

Her father was the King.

Her brother was the sole heir.

No matter what she did, someone would always clean up after her.

In short—Shuri was spoiled.

She had never been forced to endure real pressure.

Solomon hadn't even gone as far as to send her late-night weekend texts demanding extra work.

She was completely in control of the progress of every research project.

Was there any boss better than him?

Stephanie, excited beyond belief, clenched her toes inside her shoes.

"Do you need to inform Wakanda about this?" she asked, barely containing her glee.

Finally—political conflict!

This was her domain.

The family art.

She had been waiting for a chance to showcase her skills.

If Solomon gave her the order, she could immediately start sabotaging Wakanda's cooperation with the Eternal City.

With a few subtle maneuvers, she could kick them out of the Martian Forge project.

Ever since she learned Wakanda's true nature, she had been scheming to sever ties with them.

Solomon had even entrusted her with countermeasures against Wakanda.

At one point, she had even considered completely toppling Wakanda and stealing its resources and technology.

But Solomon had never approved that plan.

Ending the alliance or going to war would cripple the Eternal City's expansion.

But Solomon had a simpler method.

He showed Stephanie a suspended alchemical body floating in a vat.

"What is this?" she asked, puzzled.

How could an artificial human be the key to countering Wakanda?

"It's not time yet," Solomon said, smiling cryptically.

"Very soon, this body will be activated—and then you'll understand why it was made. Everything is going according to plan."

"But I'm your secretary! Shouldn't I know?"

"What do you think, secretary?"

Stephanie sighed.

By now, she was used to Solomon's air of mystery.

Even after months by his side, she had barely scratched the surface of his secrets.

Back at the Hydra training camp, Solomon had glanced at a list for mere seconds before devising a fully-fledged plan.

Who knew how many other schemes he had already set in motion?

"Then why were you reading that book?" Stephanie suddenly asked.

She was referring to a book Solomon had been reading that morning.

It was not a popular book in the Western world.

"Lenin's Complete Works."

The Russian edition.

"Are you looking for knowledge in there?"

"A little," Solomon admitted, flipping a page.

"I'm searching for a way to integrate dialectical materialism."

He curled his lips.

"Engels claimed the world's true unity lay in its material nature. That material is primary, and consciousness is secondary—a product of highly developed material interactions. Consciousness is merely the brain's function, a reflection of the objective material world."

"If only the world were really that simple."

A plasma sphere formed at Solomon's fingertips.

"Willpower can affect material laws. Magic is proof of that."

He sighed.

"And the gods that represent material laws—they exist. They can alter mathematical constants as they please."

"I'm looking for a path that rejects religion."

"Lenin's ideology is my experiment—a way to discard worship and ignorance, to embrace scientific rationality."

"To make people realize that even if gods exist, they do not need to be worshiped."

He clenched his fist.

The plasma collapsed into snowflakes.

"That's impossible," Stephanie countered.

"You've already disproven atheism. This will only lead to agnosticism."

She smirked.

"Don't look at me like that—I studied philosophy."

Solomon dropped his philosophical bombshell.

"Then why call these beings 'gods' at all?"

"Why not see them as machines that govern universal operation?"

"Humans cannot influence them."

"And they do not change simply because humans worship them."

"So, what's the point of worship?"

"The idea that 'God loves mankind' is a lie."

"If an omnipotent God really existed, worship would be irrelevant."

"No—worship is only relevant if your so-called God is just a pervert who enjoys watching ants grovel at His feet."

"You'll never succeed," Stephanie argued.

"Humans need figures of worship."

"Humans are weak. They crave authority."

"So, to make this work—you must erase the existence of gods altogether."

"If humanity never knows they exist, then your problem solves itself."

"Exactly."

Solomon nodded.

"A lie that deceives all."

"A lie born out of necessity."

"Asgardians? Just aliens."

"Dark Elves? Also aliens."

"Magic? Just advanced science."

"This is my lie."

"And everyone believes it."

Stephanie leaned forward.

"Then tell me, Solomon—why does any of this matter to you?"