Orchestrating a controlled conflict between two AIs helped Solomon maintain the upper hand. He had to do this because not even Wakanda could build a fully automated industrial system. It had been a long time since Solomon had taken Wanda Maximoff for a stroll on the surface of Mars. The site where the Wakandan Mars rover had landed was now home to a high-tech ecological pod, conducting manual mineral exploration and selecting a location for a foundry.
The permission he had obtained from the Ancient One to use the Eye of Agamotto would be applied to the Martian foundry. He planned to use the Time Stone to accelerate localized time as soon as the Martian foundry reached an initial operational stage, speeding up the construction of a spaceship that could only be built in near-Earth orbit. This was the power of the Time Stone—the key left behind by the universe at the time of creation. Without the Eye of Agamotto, Solomon's envisioned spaceship might take a thousand years to build, by which time it would be too late for anything.
This also meant that there could be no permanent staff at the Martian foundry unless volunteers were willing to stay and start a colony.
Moreover, human lifespans were limited. Generations of people living on Mars would inevitably lead to the loss of knowledge. So, unless absolutely necessary, Solomon would never adopt such a plan.
If the artificial intelligences coexisted peacefully, he would have to make another agreement with Wakanda, granting them certain rights over the spaceship. These were rights Solomon was unwilling to cede, so he had to pit the AIs against each other to prevent any single AI from gaining complete control over the Martian foundry.
This was undoubtedly a decision that violated Kamar-Taj's rules. The Ancient One only agreed to his approach after hearing Solomon's entire plan. After graduating from university, Solomon intended to become a space pirate for a while, looting alien technology through space travel to advance the Martian foundry's technological progress. His goal was to fully integrate alien technology into human science, avoiding technological black boxes. Essentially, Solomon planned to do what Stark Industries had done, but instead of making money, he aimed to indirectly drive human technological advancement.
"When I'm dead, you can do whatever you want—I don't care." The Ancient One said nonchalantly. She put on her sunglasses. "Anything else? I'm about to miss today's roast bear meat feast!"
"Master, can you be serious? This is a very serious matter!"
"I'm about to die, and you still want me to be serious? Does that even make sense?" The Ancient One widened her eyes. "Seventy is the age of following one's heart without overstepping bounds. I'm over a thousand years old—shouldn't I be allowed to do whatever I want? Don't interrupt my bucket list! Tomorrow, I have a 30,000-meter no-parachute skydiving session scheduled. Odin and Frigga want some excitement!"
"Alright, I give up!" Solomon raised his hands. He truly couldn't rein in the Ancient One's increasingly outrageous antics. She was going to do whatever she wanted, and no one could stop her. Even if she took up the holy sword and started slashing people in the streets, the old geezers from the mystical families would still claim she was justified—those old fossils had no sense of right and wrong! Kaecilius was currently looking after Odin's daily life, and only Mordo seemed remotely reliable. However, judging by how the Ancient One had started setting him up with American women on blind dates, it wouldn't be long before he gave in.
Mordo, stay strong! Don't fall for the American beauties!
Natasha Romanoff had a reason to call Solomon a nerd. According to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s records, he had never set foot in places where drugs or addictive substances might be found. Even when he went to bars, they were countryside taverns or old-fashioned British pubs, playing either classical music or jazz—nothing fast-paced.
In other words, Solomon had never been to a nightclub.
Now, everyone knew about it. After all, S.H.I.E.L.D. had the authority to monitor citizens. When Agent Romanoff decided to upload that particular piece of data to the internet, Solomon's highly disciplined lifestyle became public knowledge.
Looking at the mocking messages from Stark, Solomon immediately knew that Agent Maria Hill had not told him the truth about Colonel Rhodes' injury.
He didn't feel guilty—he just felt angry.
They had a private communication group, using software developed by S.H.I.E.L.D., ensuring all messages were highly secure.
Stark teased that Solomon had never experienced the "baptism" of a high school cheerleading squad. Only Steve Rogers praised Solomon's disciplined lifestyle, calling it faithful, steady, and restrained.
"Old-fashioned people only resonate with other old-fashioned people," Stark said, ever the troublemaker. "I bet the wizards still use phonographs and fireplaces. I remember you using one too, Rogers!"
Poor Steve Rogers, unable to use a smartphone, couldn't respond fast enough.
By the 1920s, during the Coolidge Prosperity era, Americans had largely abandoned fireplaces. But at that time, Steve Rogers was still a scrawny kid in Brooklyn, never experiencing wealth before plunging straight into the Great Depression. His life and Stark's were parallel lines—Stark could never understand the struggles and resilience of the lower class from that time, nor could he imagine how hard it was to survive selling newspapers on the streets. But that was Rogers' life before the experiment. That hardship allowed him to understand the common people.
Stark could never relate to that. Without his talent and wealth, he would just be an insufferable bore.
Of course, he was better now—he had turned into a caring insufferable bore.
Thankfully, Agent Maria Hill defused their bickering, though Natasha Romanoff privately expressed her concern to Solomon. With S.H.I.E.L.D. disbanded, the Avengers had lost their official backing. Once an emergency response team, they were now just a group of powerful misfits, bound to face government suppression.
"That's inevitable," Solomon said. "No rational government would allow a powerful force to operate outside the system."
"But the real question is: what role will the Avengers play? A force for justice, or a tool for politicians?"
"Is this part of your social science research?"
Solomon could still smell the faint scent of sunscreen on her.
"It's just common sense, dear," he said. "Conflicts will erupt sooner or later. What's your plan?"
"I don't know." She shrugged. Seeing Solomon's skeptical gaze, she repeated herself. "I really don't know. For me, the Avengers were the first time I felt a sense of belonging with like-minded people. You know my past—you know what this means to me."
"Fireplaces, roast chicken, and wool socks?"
"Exactly." Romanoff took a deep breath. "I want you to meet someone. He's one of the few clear-headed people left in the Avengers."
"Who?"
"You haven't noticed? Clint has been missing for a long time!" Natasha looked at him in surprise. "Or do you only know 'Hawkeye' but not 'Clint'?"
"Uh…"
"I'm going to tell him that joke." Agent Romanoff patted his shoulder with a smile. "He's already upset that there are no toys of him in the stores. No one even knows who he is—Hawkeye-branded T-shirts on Amazon have the lowest sales."
"What about me?"
"You're on par with Thor. Your symbol is a sword; his is a hammer," she said. "You're too mysterious, and that makes people curious about your identity. You have way more fans than you realize."
"Oh, dear!"
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