Chapter 376: Arrogance Runs in the Family

"I thought you'd fiercely denounce her faith!" whispered Wong, careful not to let the others hear.

"I simply let her drown in her own foolishness," Solomon replied, a flicker of embarrassment crossing his face before he quickly masked it with indifference. "That's irrelevant. What matters now is the extraplanar entity clinging to her."

"You've improved a lot, Solomon," Wong remarked, raising an eyebrow. He wasn't fooled by Solomon's nonchalant response. The Ancient One often emphasized the importance of tempering sharpness and resolving internal turmoil—a virtue essential for her disciples to master. Solomon's ability to manage his sacred marks without succumbing to madness hinged on this teaching.

While Wong didn't know exactly what Solomon had endured during previous events, he sensed a shift in his demeanor, subtle yet significant. Choosing not to press the issue further, he focused on the task at hand—knowing too well that pushing Solomon might earn him a retaliatory punch.

The briefing room of the S.H.I.E.L.D. Bus, typically reserved for Coulson's team, was now crowded with novices from Kamar-Taj, all listening attentively to Solomon. As he addressed them, Coulson stood nearby, visibly intrigued by the magical theories being discussed.

"Sulfuric traces—strong ones," Solomon said. "It's a clear sign of lower-dimensional interference."

"I didn't smell anything unusual," Coulson interjected, frowning. Melinda May and Grant Ward nodded in agreement. Fitz-Simmons chimed in, noting that no sulfur compounds had been detected during their scans of Hannah Hutchins.

"I wasn't using my nose, Coulson," Solomon replied, tapping his temple. "The 'scent' is more of a metaphor."

"Well, scientifically speaking," Fitz began, "any extraplanar entity interacting with our dimension would have been vaporized in the particle accelerator explosion. The temperatures alone—"

"Not all extraplanar beings are corporeal," Wong interrupted. "Many are purely spiritual. My family's recipes even include methods for cooking ethereal entities."

"Ethereal entities?" Fitz asked skeptically. "You mean... ghosts?"

"Enough," Solomon clapped his hands to regain the room's focus. Guiding novice sorcerers was no easy feat, a rite of passage for any potential successor to the Ancient One. Mordo had done it; Kaecilius had done it; now it was Solomon's turn. "Focus on what matters. Lower planes are concentrated realms of negative energy, which corresponds to entropy. The question is whether we're dealing with demons or devils. Review your bestiary notes. You did study their weaknesses, right?"

For the sake of their non-magical audience, Solomon provided simplified, scientific analogies. Compared to Mordo's sternness and Kaecilius's ambition, Solomon exhibited surprising patience as he explained, "In contrast, positive energy represents order and is our primary weapon against creatures from the lower planes. Pair up: one casts defensive spells, the other offensive. Support your partner if they falter until reinforcements arrive. Clear?"

"Are you planning to use Hannah Hutchins as bait?" Coulson interrupted. "How can you be sure she won't be harmed?"

"We don't know whether it's a demon or a devil, Coulson," Solomon said. "Their motivations align, but their methods differ. What's happening to Hannah Hutchins aligns more with devilish tactics—gradual psychological manipulation. Devils excel at driving victims to abandon their faith, leaving them ripe for corruption. If they sense our interference, they'll know their efforts were in vain."

Turning to Wong, Solomon assigned him and two female apprentices to guard Hannah closely, even accompanying her to the restroom if needed. Solomon dismissed Fitz's claims about electromagnetic barriers being sufficient protection; he placed no faith in such measures.

Coulson, despite his initial reservations about Solomon's assertive approach, recognized the sorcerer's expertise. As an agent, Coulson knew the importance of relying on specialists in their respective fields. While he had no qualms about Solomon's plans, he mentally noted every detail to relay back to Fury.

Coulson observed the other sorcerers carefully. Were all Kamar-Taj disciples as formidable as Solomon? If so, S.H.I.E.L.D. might have a larger problem on its hands.

"Fine," Solomon said, his tone clipped as he glanced at Coulson's placid expression. "Follow your security protocol. Now, someone give me a tour of this plane. I want to ensure it's not carrying any stowaways from the lower planes. The entity might've hitched a ride."

"You think it's on the plane?" Skye asked nervously, shrinking under May's disapproving glare. She glanced at Fitz and Simmons, hoping for some reassuring scientific explanation that wouldn't send her into a panic.

The sorcerers, however, unanimously deferred to Solomon's judgment. Years of contributions to the Kamar-Taj library and his unparalleled magical expertise had cemented his authority. Even Skye, an outsider, noticed Solomon's commanding presence, accentuated by his striking attire—a crimson robe adorned with glimmering rings, a silver key pendant, and utility belts holding glass vials of mysterious powders.

To Skye's horror, Solomon retrieved one such vial, scattering its contents over the assembled sorcerers.

"Alright, Skye," Coulson said with an encouraging smile, "why don't you show Solomon around the plane?"

"Fantastic," Solomon quipped, adjusting his belt. "This way, you won't suspect I've tampered with anything."

Skye reluctantly led Solomon through the dim corridors, their footsteps echoing ominously. Her darting eyes betrayed her unease as she scanned every shadowy corner for lurking threats. Solomon, walking behind her, wore an infuriatingly amused expression that seemed designed to provoke her.

"What's with that look?" Skye snapped, her irritation overcoming her fear.

"Nothing," Solomon replied, his tone deliberately casual. "But this isn't where I wanted to go. Show me the engine room and control deck. Last time I was here, I spent most of my time in the cargo hold."

"You mean during the dark elf invasion?"

"No, before that," Solomon replied, meeting her curious gaze. "I collaborated with Fury on a minor mission here—a little venture involving the King of Hell's schemes."

"That sounds… epic," Skye said, her curiosity overpowering her nerves. Straightening her posture, she added with newfound boldness, "So this is just a small fry mission for you?"

"Absolutely," Solomon said with a wink. "The novices could handle this. You guys just beat us to the scene. But one thing's for sure—bullets won't cut it."

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