Solomon in Marvel

Tita holstered her explosive rifle, grabbed a steel cable, and jumped down the elevator shaft.

The infrared night vision system in her helmet activated automatically, illuminating the dark depths around her. Above her, the sounds of gunfire echoed as the Sisterhood clashed with soldiers rushing up the stairwells to reinforce the surface. These noises grew distant, as if fading into a dream. Soon, only the grating sound of her gloves sliding along the steel cable remained. The farther she descended, the more Tita became aware of her own heartbeat—or rather, the rhythmic pulses of her alchemical engine. Her hands grew uncomfortably warm, and the intense glow of her helmet's visual overlay made her feel as though her eyes were on fire.

"We've arrived, ma'am," Sevia said, stepping onto the remains of what could barely be recognized as human bodies. The explosion from their heavy grenades had scarred the cement walls and left debris scattered everywhere. Blood and viscera coated the floor, turning it into a slippery mess beneath Tita's steel heels. If not for the magnetic stabilization in her boots, she might have slipped and fallen in the foul, sticky gore.

The strike team had already descended and begun their assault. Swords drawn, their Steel Wings flared briefly as they launched themselves into the entrenched enemy soldiers. The androids moved with terrifying efficiency, cutting down the resistance with ruthless precision. By the time Tita exited the freight elevator, only a handful of soldiers were still alive and cowering behind makeshift barriers.

Katherine's ferocity on the battlefield had struck terror into the inexperienced soldiers. Her mastery of both swordsmanship and marksmanship allowed her to dispatch more than a dozen opponents single-handedly. With her enhanced agility from the Steel Wings, she moved like a specter of death across the battlefield.

The remaining soldiers surrendered, dropping their weapons and raising their hands in fear. Some members of the Sisterhood had already sabotaged an alternate elevator shaft to prevent reinforcements from descending. Others had begun securing the area to buy more time for Tita. She didn't spare a glance at the kneeling prisoners as she strode forward, her blood-soaked steel heels leaving crimson footprints on the metal floor. Each step echoed with an air of finality, like a death sentence.

"Open the gate," Tita commanded.

A human-shaped android equipped with a specialized tool approached the massive steel door. One of the captured officers tried to speak, offering to provide the access codes, but Katherine silenced him with a brutal punch, knocking him unconscious. She was irritable, frustrated that the mission had ended too quickly for her to fully showcase her skills.

The heat-based cutting tool developed by Shuri made quick work of the heavy steel door, slicing through it in under 30 seconds. Tita lowered her rifle and unsheathed her sword as she stepped inside. There were no armed guards beyond the gate—only scientists responsible for maintaining the nuclear warheads.

Tita grabbed one of the trembling scientists and ordered him to lead the way.

The objective was within reach. Failure was not an option.

Meanwhile, across the Atlantic...

Darcy Lewis was stumbling ahead of Solomon, panting heavily and flushed. Her breath reeked of alcohol, and her face glowed with a drunken redness. Despite her urgency, she was barely moving faster than Solomon's leisurely pace.

"Come on! Hurry up!" she wheezed, clutching her side. "The cops are coming!"

"Sure, sure," Solomon replied indifferently. Darcy, exhausted from both running and drinking, was far slower than he was accustomed to walking. Their predicament had a simple explanation: Darcy had gotten drunk.

During the taxi ride to the Royal Opera House, Darcy had pulled out her collection of miniature liquor bottles—vodka, rum, and whiskey—and eagerly shared them with Solomon. Laughing wildly, she clinked her bottle against his and chugged her drink in one go.

By the time they reached the opera house, Darcy was already heavily intoxicated. Without Solomon's support, she might have collapsed on the ticket counter. Unsurprisingly, the staff refused to let someone in her state enter.

Darcy, however, was not one to back down when drunk. Puffing out her chest, she wrenched herself free from Solomon's grip and tried to argue with the staff. When this failed, she turned her attention to one of the security guards, staring at him with wide, glassy eyes before suddenly bursting into giggles.

The guard, caught off guard by Darcy's charms, softened his tone. "Ma'am, you're in no condition to enjoy the performance. Why don't you rest in our lounge instead?"

Darcy continued giggling—right up until she headbutted the guard square in the nose.

"Run, Solomon, run!" she shrieked, her mood flipping in an instant. Tears streaming down her face, she grabbed his hand and dragged him toward the exit. More guards were closing in. Reluctantly, Solomon cast a minor illusion spell to obscure his face and pulled the sobbing Darcy outside.

Throughout their escape, Darcy babbled incoherently. "I'm such an idiot… Jane's gonna fire me… Erik, put on some pants, for God's sake…" She even mumbled, "Solomon, why aren't you taking off your clothes?" before dissolving into laughter again.

Solomon, trailing behind her, discreetly recorded the entire scene on his phone.

"Hey… are you filming me?"

"Of course not," Solomon replied confidently.

"Okay, good..." Darcy glanced around nervously. "Where's the bathroom? I need to go."

"Don't you dare pull your pants down here, you idiot!"

Meanwhile, at the airbase...

"Open fire!"

The Sisterhood's remaining forces at the elevator shaft were under heavy attack. 40mm grenade launchers created significant problems, but the greater threat was the armored figure soaring through the sky—Colonel James Rhodes in his War Machine armor.

The armor, though inferior to Tony Stark's cutting-edge designs, still outclassed the Sisterhood's power armor in both mobility and ranged firepower. The repulsor beams mounted on the War Machine suit provided devastating long-range capabilities. While the Sisterhood's explosive rifles could hit Rhodes, his advanced armor deflected most of the damage, reducing their impact to mere impediments.

"Orla, deploy the EMP!"

Pinned down by superior firepower, the Sisterhood found themselves besieged on all sides. Reinforcements were pouring in, including armored vehicles advancing toward their position. Trapped soldiers inside the stairwells awaited an opportunity to counterattack.

Christina, the temporary commander on the surface, decided against wasting time eliminating the trapped soldiers. Instead, she issued a support request to the aircraft overhead. Moments later, an EMP device was dropped near the entrance to the bunker. The blue electromagnetic pulse radiated outward, disabling all electronic equipment except those protected by Wakandan technology.

With their vibranium-insulated circuits intact, the Sisterhood's powered armor remained operational. Christina watched as Rhodes' armor plummeted from the sky.

"Now it's our turn!" she shouted. "Destroy the heavy vehicles and use their wreckage for cover! Draw your swords! Kill every enemy—leave no survivors! Give them a glorious death!"

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