Chapter 495: I Am Hydra (IX)

Dozens of information streams were being processed simultaneously—videos, images, or even brief text messages. Beneath the apparent chaos, a singular pattern emerged. Behind every mission, behind every maneuver, there was one man guiding it all. He compiled, summarized, and repurposed intelligence from one operation for another. As he crushed rebellions through raids, airborne assaults, and demolitions, he also negotiated with S.H.I.E.L.D. loyalists like Robert Gonzales and Victoria Hand, while at the same time engaging in discussions with Gideon Malick's operatives in Congress.

He mobilized every available resource, opening teleportation portals to relocate key personnel, piecing together S.H.I.E.L.D.'s fragmented overseas forces. While Solomon was overwhelmed with nonstop activity, Dana remained focused on monitoring the situation at Triskelion Headquarters.

Solomon simply didn't have the time to replicate the three satellite positioning modules used by the Helicarriers, so the moment he acquired his target, he immediately examined the AI's code, ensuring that this freshly activated system wouldn't malfunction.

This artificial intelligence operated under his control, while its competitor was determined to eliminate Samaritan on sight. The two AIs, built on completely different foundational logic, were natural enemies. That was precisely the scenario Solomon wanted—vicious competition was far better than sloth, deception, and inefficiency.

At the same time, he continued arguing with Robert Gonzales, glancing at a video feed of high-ranking S.H.I.E.L.D. officials huddled together in an office. Tita and Victoria Hand had successfully crushed the mutiny aboard the Helicarrier, and now the mystic was holding a video conference with its commanding officers. Solomon instructed them to prepare for an armed assault on Triskelion Headquarters.

Of course, most of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s loyalists didn't trust him. They didn't trust anyone. And they certainly weren't about to trust Victoria Hand, who had arrived alongside the Sisterhood's forces. But Hand and Agent Coulson co-signed a guarantee, backed by Nick Fury's authentication.

With Solomon's approval, these senior agents were finally briefed on his identity—and the role he played during the Battle of New York. With the endorsement of two high-ranking agents, as well as the looming threat of chainswords and explosive rifles hanging over their heads, Robert Gonzales had no choice but to comply.

"Good. I don't have time for debate. Get moving," Solomon ordered before turning back to his code, completely indifferent to Gonzales' internal struggle.

When working, the mystic was utterly ruthless.

To him, these so-called loyalists were mere tools. He knew that many of them would die because of their choices, but from a purely transactional standpoint, the order he issued was fair. S.H.I.E.L.D. would be able to preserve its classified archives, its loyal personnel, and valuable assets like the Quinjet fleet—aircraft that would be irreplaceable after S.H.I.E.L.D.'s collapse.

Meanwhile, in Triskelion Headquarters, Alexander Pierce had prepared a speech for the council members. As they gathered in the conference room, he poured them glasses of champagne.

This was the most important day. A day worth celebrating.

From now on, the faction he led would restore Hydra to its former glory.

"I know this journey hasn't been smooth," he said, secretly amused by the foolishness of politicians. "Some of you even wanted to push me out along the way. But in the end, we all arrived at the same destination. The whole world will be grateful for what we've achieved."

Pierce raised his glass.

As the council members took their first sips, a voice rang out from Triskelion's internal communications system. A voice so familiar that it made Alexander Pierce's skin tighten.

"Attention, all S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. This is Steve Rogers—"

Panic spread across the council members' faces.

With Maria Hill's assistance, Steve Rogers had made his way to the satellite command center. The technical staff stood by, watching it all unfold.

In fact, when they stormed the room, they had expected resistance—but to their surprise, the agents present didn't even believe the official warrants issued for Rogers' capture. Some even enthusiastically pointed him in the right direction.

They quickly withdrew under the icy glare of Agent Hill.

"You've heard a lot about me in the past few days. Some of you have even been ordered to hunt me down. But I think it's time you heard the truth."

Steve Rogers paused, giving his audience a moment to absorb his words.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. is not what we thought it was. It has been infiltrated and taken over by Hydra. Their leader is Alexander Pierce. Strike Team operatives and the Insight Division—all of them are Hydra. I don't know who else among us is compromised, but I do know they are here, in this building—"

The technical staff listened in stunned silence.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Alexander Pierce set down his champagne and reached for his phone to issue commands.

"…They could be standing right next to you. They are moments away from gaining absolute control. They killed Nick Fury—but this isn't over! If you launch those Helicarriers today, Hydra will have the power to eliminate anyone who stands against them—unless we stop them—"

Steve Rogers' voice echoed through Solomon's surveillance program.

Solomon had already ordered both artificial intelligences to infiltrate S.H.I.E.L.D.'s internal network, pulling surveillance feeds from every available camera. His hands never stopped moving—before him was a sub-system of the planetary defense grid, which allowed him to manipulate teleportation gates on a massive scale.

Meanwhile, Stephanie was working frantically beside him, managing a continuous stream of orders: directing Washington D.C.'s police to enforce traffic lockdowns, suppressing riots in impoverished areas, and securing entry points for the Eternal City's armored forces.

Anything that wasn't critical to the battle could wait.

"…I know this won't be easy, but freedom has always come at a steep price. I am willing to pay it. And if I have to do it alone, so be it. But I don't think I will be alone."

Gunfire erupted inside S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters.

"Robert Gonzales, move out," Solomon commanded.

On the deck of a distant Helicarrier, several Quinjets lifted off immediately. Packed with loyalist strike teams, they followed behind the black-painted assault transports of the Sisterhood, soaring through a teleportation gate.

From the darkness of the open sea, they crashed into the bright skies of Washington D.C.

Solomon directed the AI to use security cameras to guide the loyalist operatives through the battlefield. At the same time, he ordered Tita to link up with the tank division stationed across the river from Triskelion.

"We must get the Helicarriers in the air. Buy me the time I need to program the commands," he said, cutting off his communication channel with the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents.

Now, he addressed the Sisterhood's battle commanders.

"Those three Helicarriers will be your motherships. We will retrofit them. But for now, we must protect them from both Hydra and S.H.I.E.L.D. They already belong to the Eternal City."

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