Solomon in Marvel

"So, am I authorized to carry out this operation?" Agent Victoria Hand adjusted her glasses. "You know my style—I don't care about casualties. Especially when these special forces aren't S.H.I.E.L.D.'s—they're Hydra."

"The ones that can be repurposed—especially the factory Hydras. Their armed personnel shouldn't be wasted," Solomon replied, referring to the Hydra workers now toiling away on the retrofit of the Helicarriers. Once their hard labor had cleansed the ideological branding Hydra had burned into their minds, they would become another special ops unit under Hand's command.

The same applied to Hydra's lower-tier administrators. Solomon urgently needed to integrate them into the bureaucratic structure to ease the administrative burden on the Eternal City. Despite having artificial intelligence at his disposal, he had deliberately avoided paperless office systems. He understood all too well that full digitalization would give AI too much control over the Eternal City—something that could never be allowed.

The special ops unit's real first mission had been to relocate the Samaritan servers to a secure facility. So technically, what Victoria Hand referred to as their "first mission" wasn't actually their first assignment.

Hand wasn't too familiar with the AI situation—she only knew that the Eternal City had an excellent command system.

"We need him alive. Cases like his are rare. The biolab needs him." Solomon forwarded the Shadow Entity file to Hand via the holographic interface and turned to leave—there were still many other tasks waiting for him in the Eternal City. But just as he was about to step out, he paused and looked back at Hand.

"I don't mind you helping Agent Coulson—really," he said. "We're not on the same path, but if necessary, do what you can to protect him."

"Why?" Hand's glasses reflected the blue glow of the holographic display, making her expression unreadable.

"Because humanity's future needs him," Solomon replied truthfully. Of course, different people would interpret this statement differently. Hand was one of the few who could grasp a part of its meaning.

"Is this a prophecy? A hundred percent certain—like when you foresaw my death?"

Solomon nodded.

"I understand." Hand accepted the order.

Elsewhere, after pushing through the secret legislation, Stephanie was already setting her sights on her next target—attacking one of Hydra's strongest remaining pillars: Werner Reinhardt, also known as Whitehall.

For this, she had consulted her father. But the old fox Gideon Malick cautioned his daughter against recklessness.

Whitehall was a true Nazi Hydra—someone who knew everything about Hydra's inner workings. The conservative faction had managed to rescue some operatives before, but if Whitehall ever caught wind that they were moving against him, the consequences would be disastrous.

Gideon Malick couldn't help but recall the conversation he and his brother had with Whitehall in prison when they were younger. That man was a viper, a smiling devil. Even now, just thinking about him sent a chill down Malick's spine.

To his horror, Whitehall had known about the Malick family's deepest secrets—right down to the cheating ritual his father had used to secure his leadership.

When the Nazi Hydra faction rose to dominance, many conservative Hydras defected to Whitehall and the Red Skull. It was likely during that period that the new Nazi Hydra began prying into Hydra's ancient secrets.

Malick had no idea how much Whitehall truly knew. But he feared him.

There was an object that haunted Malick's nightmares—a chipped white stone, hidden within a copy of Paradise Lost. Every time he thought of betraying Whitehall, that stone surfaced in his mind, its presence as cold and merciless as the man himself.

"I'm following his orders, Father," Stephanie said, displeased by her father's hesitation. "He wants Whitehall's biological research. I saw his eugenics experiments in Hydra's training camps. That rejuvenated old bastard has plans—a lot of them."

Malick sighed.

His daughter had seen Solomon's power firsthand. She had abandoned Hydra's ancient faith and, in doing so, had adopted the fervor of a convert.

Malick had watched her help Solomon build his faction—watched it expand.

And yet, he still couldn't bring himself to reveal the truth of the Malick family to her. If he did, she would only despise Hydra's old ways even more and become even more devoted to Solomon's cause.

"You're now the de facto head of a congressional black ops unit. There are things you must understand," Malick said gravely.

Accepting the wine glass his daughter handed him, he allowed himself a smile—no matter what, at least she still cared about him.

Seated primly before him, Stephanie listened intently.

"What's the saying? 'Cut off one head, and two shall take its place.' That's truth," Malick said. "Hydra cannot be destroyed.

"The so-called 'Hydras' exposed by the Black Widow's leaks? Most of them were just idiots who got too close to Alexander Pierce.

"They were Hydra when it suited them, and not Hydra when it didn't. You understand what I mean?"

Stephanie nodded.

Her father was telling her that many of the so-called Hydra officials were just pawns—corrupt bureaucrats who had taken bribes but were not true believers.

That didn't mean Hydra could be easily eradicated.

The Malick family had distanced itself from Pierce's faction long ago. That strategic cutting away had allowed the conservative Hydra to remain unscathed in the chaos.

"Honey—Hydra is America," Malick said suddenly.

Stephanie blinked in surprise.

"Don't look so shocked. After all these years, the results of Operation Paperclip have saturated this country.

"Hydra has infiltrated everything—industry, politics, even the military.

"Do you really think the U.S. government wants to wipe Hydra out?

"Only a small handful of people actually do.

"And the ones who are used as attack dogs? They're only purging the expendable ones—the poor bastards who didn't cut ties fast enough.

"Sometimes, they don't even need to send assassins. These unfortunate souls kill themselves, conveniently taking valuable secrets to the grave.

"Hydra's greatest power isn't who it controls. It's the suspicion it creates.

"A single accusation can ruin a political rival. No need for eight bullets in the back and a 'suicide'—just hint that someone might be Hydra, and their entire career evaporates."

Stephanie nodded in understanding.

It didn't matter who was Hydra.

What mattered was who could be accused of being Hydra.

For politicians, that was an invaluable weapon.

"If you truly intend to crown him in the shadows, then you need to learn to be the catalyst in the system," Malick said, adopting the tone of a presidential advisor.

"If you want to become indispensable to him, you must demonstrate your irreplaceable value.

"Hydra is in chaos after Pierce's death. The bureaucratic ranks are in turmoil. It's the perfect time to climb the ladder.

"Manage this crisis correctly, and you will be the only one who can untangle Hydra's influence within the government.

"And when the Shadow Crown is finally placed… it will sit on your head as well."

Stephanie smiled, envisioning the future.

"Then I will be the queen."

Malick smirked.

"I'll set you up with a first target—my old 'friend,' Baron Wolfgang von Strucker," he said.

"He's very close to Whitehall.

"And he's already been marked for disposal."

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