Solomon in Marvel

Solomon did not agree to attend Hydra's Christmas banquet. However, he still assigned ten artificial humans to accompany Stephanie, instructing her to use the event to fully consolidate her control over the conservative Hydra faction led by the Malik family.

Although Gideon Malik was somewhat displeased, he understood that these Hydra members were technically already under Stephanie's command. Besides, the day would inevitably come when the Malik family transitioned power to her. It was better to lay the foundation for her rule now while he still had the clarity of mind to oversee it.

"Keep the bloodshed to a minimum," Gideon requested. "These families have followed the Maliks for centuries. Whether in Britain or America, conservative Hydra holds immense assets and networks. I trust they can be useful to you."

"This will be handled under the Malik family's leadership, but—"

Solomon gestured toward the artificial humans standing behind him, making his stance clear. If the conservative Hydra faction refused to submit, he had no qualms about using violent means to seize their resources.

Stephanie then brought up another matter—she had already secured control over several publicly traded companies. If Solomon intended to reclaim these assets, he would need to merge them into a single conglomerate to improve administrative efficiency and coordination across different industries.

"There may be resistance," Stephanie warned. "The Rothschilds are involved, and so is the Freemasonry. Do you intend to eliminate them?"

"Why would I worry about a bunch of stonemasons who hand out membership medals to athletes?" Solomon dismissed the notion with a wave of his hand, as if the Freemasons were nothing more than a glorified guild of bricklayers.

Stephanie wasn't surprised. The Immortal City operated as a militarized force and had little reliance on Earth's economic systems. The capitalists pulling strings behind the scenes had no leverage over them.

The next step after consolidating funds was converting dollars into gold—and then using that gold to trade for extraterrestrial resources. There were multiple revenue streams for this, one of which was the criminal underworld of New York. Solomon had promised Stephanie that she could accompany him on their first trip to the intergalactic black market. He had already established contact with a Kree smuggler who, upon hearing the scale of the deal Solomon wanted to make, had been utterly stunned.

Business in the black market had no safety guarantees. It was like those cliché auction houses in fantasy novels—people got ambushed the moment they walked out the door.

Not that Solomon was particularly concerned. Technology, whether an alien firearm or a full-scale warship, was something he had the means to counter.

For extra security, Stephanie received a customized Sisterhood power armor suit, enhanced with a life-support system to ensure her safety during the transaction.

Now that she had a hammer, everything looked like a nail—Stephanie was no exception. But brute-force solutions allowed her to focus on more pressing matters, like the Mars Foundry. She had already enlisted experts to assess the production capacity of the AI-controlled facility, using that data to plan out the timeline for Solomon's grand strategy.

"Enemies are coming, Stephanie," Solomon murmured. "That will be our moment to display our strength. The battle ahead will be more brutal than anyone expects—and it will be humanity's first step beyond Earth.

"We need to hurry, Stephanie. Time is not on our side."

Solomon's urgency came from the intelligence he had gathered at a trading hub in the dimensional void. The intergalactic political landscape was shifting—

The Kree Empire's stance on Ronan the Accuser was ambiguous, and their ceasefire agreement with Xandar was on the verge of collapse. War between Xandar and the Kree would soon reignite. Meanwhile, the warlord Thanos had begun mobilizing his fleet, searching for something mysterious.

The silent universe was about to become very noisy. And Earth would not remain untouched.

"I understand," Stephanie nodded. "Can you tell me what kind of enemy we're facing?"

"Oh, just the most overused big bad in comic books."

Solomon shrugged, unwilling to elaborate.

Thanos' fleet was too powerful. He needed to move faster.

He had already received the Ancient One's permission to accelerate time in a specific location using the Time Stone, hastening the construction of warships. This was a gross violation of Kamar-Taj's principles—something neither Solomon nor the Ancient One would ever openly acknowledge.

Not even Vishanti knew.

Perhaps Agamotto did, but he had not intervened.

The first Sorcerer Supreme, renowned for his prophetic insight, had likely foreseen possible futures and tacitly allowed Solomon's actions. From the moment Solomon first donned the ring, he had suspected that Agamotto was unreasonably biased in favor of humanity.

But deciphering the motives of a god of truth was beyond his ability.

Even the Ancient One did not know what Agamotto truly intended.

Still—no matter how grim the future looked, it wasn't enough to stop Solomon from swapping his suit for a waifu T-shirt.

———

The apartment door slammed open.

The witches strutted in, utterly unbothered by the cold, dressed in crop tops and jeans. Behind them, the Cheshire Cat sauntered in with its chin held high—until it promptly bumped into a table leg.

They had just returned from a spa day at a salon owned by Athena herself. Even the Cheshire Cat's fur was now sleek and glossy. Bayonetta flaunted her freshly done black manicure in front of Solomon.

Tomorrow, the witches planned to visit the Oxfordshire estate for an intense motorcycle stunt race.

"Boya, why the frown?"

Bayonetta leaned down, one hand adjusting her wide-brimmed hat, peering at Solomon over her sunglasses. The bottom hem of her white shirt was tied into a knot just above her chest—Solomon could see the edges of her black lace underneath.

"Upset that we went out without you?" she teased. "Or… are you jealous?"

"I am not."

"You're so adorable when you pout."

Bayonetta pinched his cheek, then leaned in and kissed him on the lips.

"Feeling better now?"

Her scent—sweet camphor and rosemary—filled his senses, intoxicating yet overwhelming. Bayonetta took off her hat and straddled him, settling onto his lap.

She was pleased by his physiological response—especially how fast it happened.

Taking his hands, she placed them on her waist. Solomon's fingers ran over smooth, toned skin.

Unlike most women, Bayonetta's abdomen wasn't soft—he could feel her abs and defined muscles beneath his touch. Her waist was so slender that his hands could almost encircle it entirely.

Then, as if by instinct, Bayonetta locked her powerful legs around his hips. Solomon reacted automatically, tightening his hold on her, one hand sliding down to cup her curves. His palm traced the arch of her back, drawing a satisfied laugh from the witch.

The sapphire-studded platinum earrings she wore swayed slightly as she moved.

"Want to see my apology?"

Bayonetta placed her hands on his shoulders, looking down at him.

Her voice dripped with honeyed mischief.

"If Jeanne isn't done changing yet, I can let you sneak a peek."

She leaned closer, lips ghosting near his ear.

"And if you don't plan on sleeping tonight, I could also…"

"Jeanne can sleep on the couch tonight."

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