Solomon in Marvel

"If you're in a rush, I could clear out one of the incubation tanks," Solomon said, glancing toward the distant gray-blue sky in an attempt to break the awkward tension brought on by the topic. "Though, you should know, the body's growth is permanently fixed with artificial beings. Are you sure that's what you want?"

"Very funny. You know exactly what I mean," Natasha Romanoff replied, her playful tone dispelling the hint of romantic tension between them. She leaned in closer, causing Solomon to feel a growing sense of tightness, as if an invisible belt were constricting his waist. The closer she got, the more suffocating the pressure became, almost to the point of choking.

"Or is regenerating a missing organ too difficult for you?" Natasha teased with a glint in her eye. "If that's the case, you'll be breaking your promise to me." She smirked, pulling him closer by the arm. "Field agents retire early. I'll be moving to a desk job soon. If you can make it happen, I'd really like to have a child."

"It's a bit complicated, but not impossible," Solomon said, clearing his throat. "That's more in the realm of druidic magic. I'd need time to study the basics of their healing spells. Killing you and bringing you back to life was a different matter entirely. If no existing spell can do this, I'll have to develop one myself. Give me time, Natasha."

"Good." She smiled slyly, her beautiful face lit with hope. "And just so you know, your height makes me feel very safe. Don't worry—I won't tell anyone it's your child. Deal?"

Solomon coughed harder, caught off guard.

"Master, both targets have returned home," Dina's voice crackled through the earpiece, though the device hung loosely from Solomon's collar instead of being properly worn. Even so, he heard every word clearly.

After escorting Natasha to the airport, Solomon immediately began preparing for his next mission. He suspected that Romanoff's assignment was linked to HYDRA. With the internal factions within S.H.I.E.L.D. about to be exposed, he knew this was his last opportunity to act before everything spiraled out of his control.

From his vantage point inside a rented black Chevrolet, Solomon surveyed the target location: a private estate surrounded by high walls and razor-wire fences. The heightened security was typical for political figures of influence, especially those with a history of serving as presidential advisors. While the national government no longer offered the target direct protection, HYDRA's armed operatives filled that role instead.

Artificial intelligence had provided detailed false identities for everyone involved in the operation, but Solomon still cast a concealing spell over his face to blur his features. He trusted neither the AI nor its predictions entirely, even though the mission's timing had been optimized through its data analysis.

The mission parameters were clear: no alarms. Solomon needed time to speak with the target without drawing reinforcements to the estate. Covert operations weren't the Sisters' specialty, but once the AI synchronized with their communications systems, it marked every security guard's position in real time. Each Sister had been assigned a specific target to eliminate in a single strike, leaving no chance for an alert to be raised.

Solomon stepped out of the car, raised his wand, and cast a powerful illusion to mask the area around the estate's entrance. Moments later, the Sisters descended silently from their cloaked aircraft, activating their Steel Wing flight modules as they smashed through windows and into the mansion's interior.

Through his earpiece, Solomon heard the shattering of glass, the crunch of sword blades cleaving flesh, agonized screams, and a brief exchange of gunfire. Then silence.

Within three minutes, the cloaked aircraft landed visibly in the estate's garden. Dina re-established contact and reported the mission's success.

"Good," Solomon said, returning to the car and dispelling the illusion. "Open the gate. I'll drive in."

Dina's weapon of choice was a massive chainsaw sword.

Powered by the heart of a hell dragon, its teeth were forged from unyielding scales capable of gradually wearing down even vibranium. So far, Solomon hadn't encountered a material that could withstand the blade's relentless bite. The chainsaw sword had been gifted to Dina by Bayonetta as a reward for her loyal service.

Now, the terrifying weapon rested against the neck of HYDRA's most senior figure: Gideon Malick. Blood dripped from the shallow cut it left on his sagging, aged skin. Nearby, Malick's daughter Stephanie trembled, her clothes stained with the blood of a man who had been sawed in half before her eyes.

The study was the only room in the mansion untouched by battle.

Solomon casually searched through Malick's desk and shelves, unlocking drawers and safes with a flick of his fingers. Finding nothing of interest, he opened a cigar box, clipped the end off one cigar, and lit it with a whispered incantation.

The sight of Solomon igniting the cigar without a match caught Gideon Malick's attention. Despite being forced into a chair at sword-point, the elderly man remained surprisingly composed. He understood that his survival indicated the intruder wanted something from him.

"They say mankind once feared HYDRA's leader, who was cast into another world through a portal. It's a legend in your family," Solomon began, his tone conversational. "Alexander Pierce, John Garrett, Dr. Whitehall, Dr. List—you're all part of HYDRA, divided by differing philosophies."

"You're one of His kind," Malick said cryptically, his words a test to gauge Solomon's knowledge. "Why not serve Him alongside us?"

"No, no, no. I have nothing to do with that nanotech parasite. This is magic," Solomon corrected, taking a puff of the cigar and coughing violently. Stephanie Malick, still in shock, glared at him with disdain. To her, Solomon's insistence on calling his powers "magic" reeked of juvenile fantasy.

Once he recovered, Solomon waved his hand, expelling the cigar smoke from the room. He ignored the astonished looks from the Malicks.

"Let me enlighten you about HYDRA's true origins," Solomon continued, smirking. "It's not divine—sorry to shatter your illusions. You might think Thor is just a high-tech alien, but the Aesir are actually descended from ancient gods. That 'god' you worship is nothing more than a genetically engineered parasite. Frankly, you'd be better off venerating the Aesir."

Solomon leaned forward, his voice laced with dark amusement. "Your so-called god is a shapeshifting amoeba with extra limbs—a literal human-shaped octopus. That's why HYDRA's emblem resembles a squid."

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