Not long after they started moving, a stray bullet shattered the rocky wall above them, sending a cascade of dirt and debris crashing down onto Solomon's head. Covered in soil and dust, the mystic's temper flared. "Where the hell did these guys come from?" he demanded, brushing himself off furiously as the agents pulled him forward. The android trailed behind, meticulously picking clumps of dirt from his hair. But after a few failed attempts at cleaning himself, Solomon gave up and shook his head like a drenched dog, trying to fling the mess away.
Turning to Agent Romanoff, he snapped, "Didn't S.H.I.E.L.D. run proper reconnaissance?"
"They popped up out of nowhere, like goblins in a fairy tale," Romanoff said, ducking her head to avoid stray gunfire. The sudden appearance of the armed group was indeed baffling. If they had been lying in ambush all this time, it would have been impossible for S.H.I.E.L.D.'s aerial reconnaissance or Quinjet surveillance to miss them. Yet, they emerged seemingly from thin air, like groundhogs in springtime.
As soon as the attackers revealed themselves, they launched a swift and precise assault on S.H.I.E.L.D. forces. Their goal was clear, their actions decisive, as though they already knew exactly who their enemies were. The monastery, carved into the rocky cliffside, sat at the innermost part of a U-shaped basin. S.H.I.E.L.D. had fortified defensive positions around the basin, and these preparations prevented the attackers from immediately overrunning the site.
The firefight lasted only a few minutes before the battlefield fell silent. Both sides had cover and were positioned at a considerable distance from each other, which minimized casualties. In fact, the most intense "firepower" Solomon had personally experienced so far was the dirt that had landed on his head.
S.H.I.E.L.D. identified the attackers as a mixed group with no uniform affiliation. Their symbols and insignias were all over the place, ranging from notorious mercenary groups to private militias hired by arms dealers. Who was commanding this linguistically and organizationally diverse force remained a mystery. While S.H.I.E.L.D. prepared a counterattack and the enemy seemed to be bringing in heavy weaponry, Solomon decided it was time to check on Father Moru and the boy.
If the monks proceeded with their purification ritual now, there would be no chance of Mephisto appearing. Until the devil showed up, the boy's role as bait was critical. Romanoff led Solomon through a natural, shadowy rock passage toward the ritual site, which wasn't far from the monastery's main area.
The ritual chamber was far from what the agents had expected. There were no crosses, stained glass windows, or altars. Instead, the space was bare, save for a circle of low stone pedestals. The monks weren't dressed in traditional black robes but in tattered brown garments, their faces covered with tattoos of scriptural verses. The android, who had been theorizing earlier that the purification might resemble a baptismal ceremony, was clearly mistaken—this place didn't even look like it had access to water.
Although no stray bullets had reached the ritual site, the situation here was equally chaotic. Solomon arrived to see Agent Melinda May standing protectively in front of the boy, handgun drawn, shouting at the monks to stay back. The boy's mother, Nadia, knelt beside her child, soothing him softly. Meanwhile, Father Moru flailed his arms between the two groups, yelling incoherently as tensions escalated.
"Wait!" Romanoff grabbed Solomon's arm before he could step into the fray. She was just as frustrated with the situation. What she wanted was for Solomon to help figure out how the attackers had managed to appear seemingly out of nowhere—possibly through magical means. However, Solomon's attention was fully locked on the boy.
This was a bad situation. If Captain Rogers' strike team failed on the front lines and Nick Fury couldn't secure air support, the limited ammunition S.H.I.E.L.D. had brought might not be enough to sustain the operation. Romanoff was beginning to think they were underprepared for this fight.
"Wait!" she called out again, this time managing to stop Solomon from grabbing one of the monks. Quickly summarizing Fury's instructions, she tried to convince him to prioritize gathering information. Solomon, however, simply nodded absentmindedly and strode forward to halt the monks.
"Not yet," Solomon said, stepping in front of the lead monk and placing a hand on his chest. "We stick to the plan. We do this my way."
"No," the lead monk replied, gripping Solomon's hand and pressing down forcefully, attempting to subdue him. But Solomon calmly withdrew his hand, sidestepped, and shouldered the monk backward several steps. The monk's movements had mirrored the opening stance of Jacob's Wrestling Hold, a technique Solomon had read about in the Golden Legend he'd found earlier. Anticipating the move, he countered with ease.
The confrontation escalated instantly. The android raised her massive sword and held it to the throat of one of the monks. Father Moru quickly stepped between Solomon and the monks, using his hands to separate them.
"Their purification method involves killing the boy," Moru explained to Solomon. "We can't let that happen."
"I don't care what method you use for purification," Solomon snapped, gesturing for the android to stay on guard. "You're not doing anything until the devil shows up. The devil's spawn needs to be dealt with, but so does the devil himself. That was the agreement. If you try to proceed, I'll take off your heads first."
"I know, I know!" Moru shouted, his voice desperate. "I understand what you want to do—I know what you're planning!"
"You should be out there assessing the battlefield," Romanoff said, pulling Solomon back slightly.
"They're going to kill him…" Nadia wailed from the side, while May tried to comfort her.
Solomon was losing patience. Whatever excitement he'd felt earlier from discovering relics in the reliquary was long gone. The boy, his mother, the monks, and even the agents were all speaking different languages—both literally and figuratively. Nadia's words were in one tongue, the monks in another, and the agents were repeating themselves in English. If it were up to him, Solomon would have silenced them all.
Suddenly, a sharp whistling sound pierced the air. Black dots quickly approached from the yellowing sky. In the blink of an eye, a violent explosion struck the rocky wall to their left. The deafening boom cut through the argument, sending debris and dust flying like shrapnel. Massive chunks of rock tumbled down from the cliffside. Dust and flames engulfed the area, but a glowing blue semicircular barrier appeared in front of them, shielding everyone from the blast's shockwave, fire, and smoke.
"Now, everybody shut up and listen to me!" Solomon barked, his patience utterly spent. The stench of burning debris was still apparent, even through the barrier. Scowling, he addressed the cowering group. "Don't do anything until I get back. Got it? May, if they try anything, shoot them."
"With pleasure," May replied coldly.
"Vishanti help me," Solomon muttered, shaking his head. With the android following closely, he stormed off, leaving the chaotic scene behind. Romanoff quickly caught up to him.
"What a mess, huh?" she remarked. "Maybe you should check in with Captain Rogers. He's on the front line. And Fury's trying to coordinate air support from the Turkish Air Force in Ankara."
"If S.H.I.E.L.D. was competent, how do you explain artillery shells nearly hitting me the moment I stepped outside?" Solomon snapped. "I almost got shot the second I left the plane. Is today just cursed for me? Why are you stopping again?"
Romanoff pressed a finger to her earpiece, frowning. "You'd better pick up the pace," she said. "Captain Rogers has been ambushed by supernatural creatures."
A motorcycle roared as it leaped over a narrow canyon and the top of an armored vehicle. A girl with short white hair jumped off the bike midair, plunging her massive sword straight into the vehicle's cockpit. The armored vehicle veered uncontrollably before slamming into a rocky wall and coming to a halt. As mercenaries scrambled to assist, the motorcycle reappeared, soaring overhead and dropping grenades onto their positions.
"Dana, where's the place Romanoff mentioned?" Solomon called out as the motorcycle made a third pass, parking near the edge of the cliff. Peering down, Solomon quickly pulled his head back, grimacing at the gory aftermath of the grenades. He shouted to the android below, "We need to get to Captain Rogers before he gets bitten by a werewolf!"
"Master, there are no dark magic creatures among these mercenaries," the android replied, climbing out of the wrecked vehicle. Her violent methods had left the cockpit drenched in blood and entrails, staining her short black skirt in the process. "But I think we're close to the location. I'm picking up distress calls from that direction."
"Fantastic," Solomon muttered, rolling his eyes. The monks, upon hearing rumors of supernatural creatures, had immediately started chanting prayers and preparing to march onto the battlefield with Bibles and blades in hand. They were eager to "carry out the Lord's will in blood," and wouldn't mind including the "evil sorcerer" (Solomon) in their cleansing spree. Of course, Solomon had
no interest in their fanaticism. He revved up a S.H.I.E.L.D. motorcycle and, with the android in tow, sped toward the location Romanoff had provided. He didn't know if the super-soldier serum could prevent lycanthropy, but he wasn't about to take any chances. If Captain Rogers turned into a werewolf, Solomon might be forced to put him down.
"Any word on that coward yet?" Solomon asked. Mephisto's avatar had yet to show itself, and no one knew where it was hiding.
He had asked the wrong person—the android simply shook her head, unable to provide an answer.
"Let's go, sweetheart," Solomon said, motioning for the android to hop on the bike. "We need to hurry. It'd be a damn shame if America's most well-shaped ass turned into a werewolf."
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