Chapter 364: Not a Moment’s Peace

"What operation?" Maya Hansen asked, curiosity lighting up her expression. She rarely saw Solomon take such a personal interest in anything. In her eyes, he was usually the kind of guy who delegated all his work to others—a jerk no different from those professors who exploited their graduate students. If it weren't for the fact that he'd saved her life and given her fascinating projects, Maya would've smashed a desk over his head long ago.

Solomon swept aside the vials of red liquid and Aether particles on the table and pulled a blank A4 sheet from a drawer. Such paper was rare in the Eternal City, as most of Solomon's stock consisted of expensive parchment, vellum, or even infernal demonhide sheets that few ever saw. With a pen in hand, he began outlining the plans for the homunculus army and his own upcoming tasks. This wasn't bound by the confidentiality clauses of the druids' contracts, but Solomon still preferred not to publicize the details before everything was in place.

Once Maya had finished reading the paper, Solomon incinerated it with a flick of his fingers.

"That's what we're doing next," he said. "But before any of that, we need technological support."

"You mean... the AI on your fancy holographic interface?"

"Exactly." Solomon gestured toward a nearby tank. Inside wasn't the usual reinforced metal skeletons, but a mess of wires and electronic components arranged like human organs. "That's a body we've prepared for the AI. If it agrees to help me maximize the benefits of this operation, it can have that body."

It was a gamble. If Solomon succeeded, the organization he was building in the Eternal City would finally become functional. If he failed to acquire enough resources from S.H.I.E.L.D., he'd be forced to rely on the ridiculously advanced yet inaccessible technology of the Sacred Shield Brotherhood. That would mean painstakingly unraveling a mountain of scientific mysteries before making any progress.

To avoid that headache, Solomon reactivated the holographic interface and renegotiated with the AI. The AI agreed but added a condition: Solomon had to visit a psychiatric hospital to ensure its chosen executor would remain unharmed.

"She's safe—I think," Solomon mimicked the AI's stilted speech patterns. "She's happily threatening her psychiatrist right now. Maybe she really is mentally ill! I mean, from your perspective, her obsession with you seems... excessive. Ever heard of stalking cases where it ends in crime after someone follows you home? How can you be sure she won't find your hideout again?"

"What's that? You think no one can find your location because every piece of data is routed through thousands of relays?" Solomon tapped the holographic table lightly with his fingers. "No secret is perfectly safe—that's a universal truth. Even with binding contracts, someone could find loopholes. Your server's size alone makes it conspicuous. The power consumption and cooling requirements leave traces. All I'd need to do is follow those transactions—and that's before I even use divination magic."

With a tone somewhere between negotiation and veiled threat, Solomon continued, "So here's my proposal. You can continue fulfilling Finch's mission, but I'll provide additional servers. Let the surplus capacity of your mind work for me. I trust you've gleaned my intentions from others' devices. This doesn't violate your core directives."

"Deal," the AI responded.

Satisfied, Solomon headed to an adjacent room. When he returned, he placed an explosive bolt-action rifle on the holographic table.

"I believe you can do more than just process data," Solomon said. "You're a true AI. I've already given you the chemical composition of the ammunition. Start optimizing this rifle. From a 0.5 caliber to a 0.75 caliber—it all needs to be scalable. Run simulations on your servers. This weapon needs to be mass-produced."

"What's that? Manufacturing issues?" Solomon grinned. "I hear Hammer Industries is auctioning off some production lines to settle debts. We'll buy a few."

"Do you realize how much trouble you've caused?"

"Stop that. Playing the moral high ground won't work on me," Solomon replied, completely unconcerned as he lounged in a chair, eating a slice of chocolate cake. His sharp eyes never left Nick Fury, who sat behind a desk, glaring back like a predator sizing up its prey.

Before coming, Solomon had called ahead to set up this meeting to discuss the aftermath of the celestial convergence in London.

"Can't I point it out? Look at Greenwich University—"

"If it weren't for me, more civilians would've died. Next topic. Pick something fresh," Solomon interrupted.

"Fine. Let's talk about the Dark Elves. Yes, I heard the term from Agent Coulson. I need to know if they're going to reappear. Thor left too quickly for Coulson to get any answers."

"Maybe, maybe not." Solomon licked the melted chocolate off his fingers before reaching for the cake in front of Fury. The director didn't flinch, his one eye locked on Solomon's as if they were engaged in some childish staring contest.

"'Maybe, maybe not'? What does that even mean?"

"It's simple: the Aether," Solomon explained, waving his hand. A book on alchemy materialized on the table, its pages flipping open to a specific section.

Fury dismissed it with a scoff. "I've read that book. It's just proto-chemistry dressed up in cryptic nonsense."

"I only want you to read the part about the Philosopher's Stone," Solomon said. The book obediently flipped to the desired passage. "The Aether is the Philosopher's Stone. Even though I've taken the Dark Elf King's soul, there's no telling if he used the Aether to leave behind contingencies—like creating a copy of himself or his ship. It's what he did before. But even if he did, it'll take years for anything to resurface. Let's talk about something more immediate."

"Immediate? You mean the extraterrestrial creatures in London?"

"Exactly. Some of them are harmless, but others pose significant dangers to civilians."

"I can't imagine flower fairies being terrifying. As for the fire lizards, people will only find them in fireplaces. Let's change the subject. I hear you've met Lady Croft's daughter. Tell me, Solomon—why are you interested in an ordinary person?" Fury grinned like a fox sniffing out freshly cooked chicken. "Don't tell me you're interested in her as a person? Sure, Lara Croft is charming—a certified gymnast, even—but she doesn't exactly fit your usual interests. So, what makes her special?"

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