Chapter 366: Myth or History?

"So, you're telling me there are supernatural forces in this world, and Thor is a god, not an alien?" Lara Croft asked, her tone surprisingly composed. She wasn't the type to wave a magazine in someone's face, parroting the nonsense printed on glossy pages. Her upbringing ensured she listened attentively, fully aware that Solomon's words carried more weight than any tabloid headline.

Although Solomon's explanation had little to do with Lara's upcoming travels, her boundless curiosity wouldn't let her ignore even the smallest detail. One of Solomon's purposes in meeting her was to fulfill a promise. He'd assured Lara he would answer her historical questions, a promise delayed last time due to pressing matters.

Lara's questions were sharp and probing, repeatedly brushing against the classified boundaries of Kamar-Taj's archives. She asked about Asgard's origins, whether records of certain famous sorcerers were genuine, and even delved into the specifics of the Salem witch trials, believing recent history might provide more tangible records. To answer her inquiries, Solomon had to strip away some secrets and provide vague, carefully curated responses.

Unsurprisingly, Lara wasn't entirely satisfied with Solomon's ambiguity. Still, he hadn't lied—he just hadn't told her everything. After his explanations and warnings, Lara reluctantly agreed to avoid delving into certain supernatural events.

Of course, Solomon doubted his warnings would truly deter her. Even if she avoided Salem, Lara would undoubtedly find herself embroiled in other supernatural adventures. Solomon resigned himself to the likelihood of a few sleepless nights in the future.

But this meeting wasn't just about answering questions. Solomon also hoped to secure an invitation to an antiques auction through Lara, a rising archaeologist.

Bayonetta had insisted that their home needed a touch of cultural refinement. Solomon planned to purchase some antiques at the auction to decorate their home. In London, far more relics traded hands than in New York. He'd even warned the Cheshire Cat: if it dared knock over a single item, it would spend a few hungry days locked in a cage. The cat had disdainfully licked its paw and stalked away, grumbling under its breath.

A Growing Interest in Myths

Days had passed since the Dark Elf invasion. While Kamar-Taj's sorcerers gradually returned from dimensional rifts and Sephiroth City, Solomon's work was far from over. Like Lara, many people had developed an intense fascination with Norse mythology in the wake of the invasion. Some even acted on their enthusiasm, proving their zeal with reckless actions.

Agent Coulson's team, busy cataloging the wreckage left behind by the Dark Elves, had informed Solomon of such incidents. Coulson seemed oddly relieved to have someone else shoulder the burden for once. Cataloging the debris had consumed enormous time and effort. Every fragment of Dark Elf and Asgardian technology—from massive warship pieces to tiny bolts—was meticulously packed into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s lead-lined crates, complete with foam padding to contain any radioactive material.

After Coulson's lengthy report, Solomon couldn't resist teasing him. "Feels good having a professional around, doesn't it?" he said. "But I'm not sure what you're getting at, Agent Coulson."

"According to Fitz's analysis, the spectral signature of one item matches that of Thor's hammer," Coulson explained.

"You mean it has the magical glow of runic enchantments?"

"Maybe," Coulson said, hesitant. Magic wasn't his field. Fitz, however, seemed eager to chime in. He was fascinated by the idea of classifying magical spectral characteristics, thinking it could help identify supernatural threats in future missions.

Coulson praised the idea but suggested they tackle it later.

"Using 3D scanning, we reconstructed a model of the object," Fitz said, producing a plastic prototype. "It looks like part of a staff—highly intricate, with flawless carvings. By the way, I handled the 3D modeling myself."

"Who knows? Maybe it's one of Thor's nails. After all, if he has a hammer, he must have nails, right?" Skye quipped, leaning in to fill Solomon's view of the screen. "I've got a theory, though no one else agrees with me. I think someone summoned this thing using magic."

"That's why we consulted you and some Norse mythology experts," Coulson said. "We'd like you to work with one of them to figure this out."

"Shall I open the door for you?" Solomon asked, glancing at Lara Croft, who was chatting with Professor Elliott Randolph. Before Coulson could express his surprise, Solomon threw open the office door and greeted him with a grin.

"I saw the news—Oslo is in an uproar," Solomon said. "I happened to be in London as a guest, so I brought along someone familiar with Professor Randolph. It's just a coincidence."

"Good to see you, Agent Coulson," Professor Randolph said, standing to greet the newcomers alongside Lara Croft. With the addition of Coulson's team, the once-roomy office now felt crowded.

"Please, come in. I wasn't expecting so many visitors today," Randolph said. "This is Lara Croft. I believe you all know her. And this is Solomon Damonet. It seems we're all here for the same reason—we've seen the news."

"Indeed, we're already acquainted," Coulson said smoothly, covering for Solomon. "Ms. Croft was one of the experts who helped us identify alien artifacts after the Dark Elf invasion. Mr. Damonet was also invaluable to the effort. Having you both here is a tremendous help."

Fitz opened his bag and produced the plastic 3D model. Randolph and Croft leaned in eagerly, while Solomon stood motionless, as if his tailored black suit were impenetrable armor.

"This is incredible," Randolph murmured, examining the model. "Judging by these runes, this could be a fragment of the Berserker's Staff. Let's take a closer look… This myth dates back to the late 12th century, telling of a powerful warrior from Asgard."

Randolph opened a book, directing everyone's attention to an illustration of an armored figure wielding a staff atop a mountain.

"A soldier of the Berserker Army," he said.

"The Berserker Army?" Fitz asked.

"Yes, an exceptionally formidable force," Randolph replied. But before he could continue, Solomon broke his silence.

"The Berserker Army was a militia of commoners," Solomon said. "You're familiar with how medieval nobles waged war, right? The Berserker Army was Asgard's equivalent of conscripted peasants. The only difference was that Asgard armed its soldiers with real weapons and armor instead of farming tools."

"Exactly," Randolph said, glancing at the smiling sorcerer. He had assumed Solomon was just another eager young admirer—a type he'd encountered frequently since Thor's arrival had made his field of study popular.

"I didn't expect you to know so much about Asgard," Randolph said. "Your description of the Berserker Army is spot-on, even the comparison to medieval levies. May I ask where you learned this? Ms. Croft mentioned you were just accepted to Oxford University. Are you a Rhodes Scholar, perhaps?"

"No, sir." Solomon's next words nearly made Coulson and Randolph jump out of their seats.

"I learned it during my courtly education under Queen Frigga of Asgard."

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