Solomon in Marvel

"How's the mission progressing?" Solomon asked, sipping his hot tea as he spoke to Diana via a tablet. This was his usual routine. Regardless of whether he had class or not, 3 p.m. was always afternoon tea time at Merton College. Today, he was simply enjoying it in a different setting.

He brought the cup to his nose, trying to mask the sour stench of vomit left behind by Darcy, who was currently sprawled out on the couch in a drunken slumber. When no one was looking, Solomon had opened a portal and teleported her back to the apartment. However, her weak tolerance for alcohol had led to her vomiting uncontrollably upon arrival.

Fortunately, he had summoned an invisible servant to clean the place before Jane Foster returned. Otherwise, Jane might have resorted to violence against her chaotic assistant. On the table in front of him was a bottle of potion designed to cleanse the body of excess alcohol. The potion was safe for human consumption and would metabolize completely within an hour. However, Solomon had no intention of administering it yet—he didn't want anyone else to overhear the sensitive information he was receiving.

"Tita has secured the nuclear warhead," Diana reported calmly, her tone devoid of worry. She had absolute confidence in the mission's success due to Solomon's command for zero casualties. The Sisterhood treated his orders as absolute truth—if Solomon declared that none of them would be harmed, then they believed reality itself would align with that decree.

"Christina is holding off the advancing U.S. reinforcements, and Orla's support squad is on standby," Diana continued, providing a detailed overview of the battlefield. She relayed data from the command terminal, including the energy levels of the androids' power packs, ammunition reserves, and the precise locations of each Sisterhood member. This was all information Solomon could use to adjust their strategy if needed—though he refrained from micromanaging those on the frontlines.

"There's also something else," Diana added after a lengthy report. "A figure resembling Tony Stark's armor has appeared on the battlefield. Initial assessment suggests it's Colonel James Rhodes, a.k.a. War Machine." She spoke as if commenting on something trivial. "The EMP has been deployed, and he's currently under our control."

"As long as he isn't permanently injured, do what you need to. He may be useful in the future. Also, authorization granted for scroll use," Solomon said, setting his teacup down and opening the window with a flick of his finger. Outside, a light rain fell over London, casting a melancholy gray hue across the city. The damp, rain-scented air wafted into the room as the curtains fluttered. With another gesture, Solomon expelled the stale air from the apartment, leaving the atmosphere much fresher.

Regarding Rhodes, Solomon had no specific solution in mind. At this point in time, Rhodes served as a valuable bridge between the U.S. military and Stark Industries. His experience as a seasoned soldier also made him a rare asset.

Better to keep him alive, Solomon thought. But if he died… well, that couldn't be helped.

Each squad leader carried a box of scrolls and alchemical potions. The scrolls, inscribed with battle-ready spells by Solomon himself, complemented the androids' inborn alchemical talents. Unlike the mindless golems of Kabbalistic design, the androids possessed exceptional intelligence, enabling them to understand and use magic scrolls. Solomon had trained them in these techniques, ensuring that those who learned passed the knowledge on to others.

"Drink the tier-three Bulletproof Shield potion!" Christina ordered during their final charge. As she barked her command, she downed another specialized potion herself. Inside the base, soldiers frantically tried to communicate and coordinate, but their shouts were drowned out by a thunderous roar.

A massive, crimson beast—nearly four meters in length—emerged from the chaos, charging forward with terrifying speed. Christina, now transformed by a Dragon Form potion, ignored the incapacitated Rhodes as she pounced on the soldiers hiding behind an armored vehicle. Her claws left deep gouges in its steel plating. Bullets ricocheted harmlessly off her scales, sparking briefly before vanishing. Those soldiers who attempted to flee were swiftly torn apart by the Sisterhood's explosive rifles.

However, the dragon did not crush the armored vehicle entirely. Instead, Christina inhaled deeply, and for a moment, it felt as though all the air in the area had been sucked away. Before the soldiers could react, searing flames erupted from her maw, flooding the interior of the vehicle.

The suffocating stench of sulfur filled the air as the vehicle's fuel tanks exploded in a fiery blaze. Christina roared triumphantly and moved on to her next target, intent on annihilating every heavy vehicle on the battlefield.

The Dragon Form potion was a rare and powerful asset, reserved for emergencies. Solomon had provided it to squad leaders for critical breakthroughs. Christina, a particularly zealous member of the Sisterhood, viewed every drop of enemy blood as a tribute to her master's glory.

"Charred corpses will suffice too," she thought, fully believing Solomon would accept such offerings.

Behind her, the other Sisterhood members used explosive rifles to disable vehicle tires and firing ports. They commandeered several sand-colored armored vehicles to fortify their position, rigging each with remote-detonated explosives in case of enemy counterattacks.

The battle soon devolved into brutal close-quarters combat. Explosive rifles and vibranium swords reduced enemies to bloody fragments, leaving no intact corpses in their wake. Blood soaked the cement floor, forming a slick, dark-red carpet that grew thicker with every wave of violence.

"For the glory of our master!" Christina roared, slicing an enemy soldier and his rifle in half with a single stroke of her sword. Her armor and crimson-tinted visor made her appear demonic.

"Eliminate every enemy here!" she ordered, crushing the skull of a hidden soldier with her rifle. "Everyone, cover Tita's team as they transport the nuke! Clear the landing zone for the support group!" She added coldly, "As for the man in the armor… keep him down. If he resists, sever his limbs."

"Understood, Commander Christina!"

Meanwhile, in the apartment…

"Ugh… where am I?" Darcy groaned as she rolled off the couch, landing on the floor with a thud. Dazed, she blinked and winced in pain. "Wasn't I with you at the Royal Opera House?" she mumbled, smacking her dry lips. "What the hell did I drink?"

"Potion," Solomon said, pointing to the empty vial and the cup of hot tea on the table. According to Diana's latest report, the Sisterhood had already boarded their aircraft and was en route to the Immortal City in Rome, bringing along the scientists responsible for maintaining the nuclear warhead.

"Have some tea," Solomon suggested with a smile. "Jane will be back soon. I, on the other hand, need to go pick up my girlfriend."

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