With the recent influx of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, Stark Industries had practically become the headquarters of the Avengers. Apart from Agent Maria Hill, who occasionally had to assist with investigations in Washington, this place had essentially turned into a second S.H.I.E.L.D. base. Most people were immersed in an atmosphere of joy, as if nothing in the future could possibly pose a threat to them.
This natural confidence had also gone to Tony Stark's head. He had already begun upgrading his armor, inviting Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, and Hawkeye to help refine the machine-learning algorithms for his Iron Man suits. With great enthusiasm, he was enhancing the Avengers' gear—this included, but was not limited to, Captain America's magnetically-attached shield and straps, as well as Black Widow's new bodysuit made of carbon-derived carbide (CDC), which provided insulation and housed a supercapacitor that allowed for voltage adjustments.
Even the effort to replicate the Super Soldier Serum was secretly underway—something no one else knew about.
If Solomon were aware of this, he would have told Stark not to waste his time. The Super Soldier Serum bore unmistakable traces of the Brotherhood of the Shield's handiwork—especially Howard Stark's. Howard had shown no surprise whatsoever regarding the serum's ability to harness ionizing radiation to precisely edit genes and synthesize proteins. Given his scientific expertise, it was impossible for him not to realize that without a new genetic template, the Super Soldier Serum could never enhance a user's limits.
Which led to the question—whose genes were used in the serum?
Solomon believed Stephanie had already found the answer buried in the Brotherhood's old archives.
"I could totally be the director of S.H.I.E.L.D.," Stark boasted to Pepper Potts. "Seriously, it wouldn't even be hard."
He had no idea what the future had in store for him. Nor did he suspect that Solomon was currently cultivating an adversary he would one day face. Of course, the Avengers' future foe was still struggling in the vast ocean of knowledge—hardly a spellcaster worth mentioning in Solomon's eyes. His standards were exceptionally high, after all. Few in history had ever sought to understand the scientific principles behind magic, but that was exactly what Solomon was doing at this very moment.
On a whiteboard, he was jotting down words while sketching a simple brain model. He was explaining to Wanda Maximoff, from a scientific perspective, how her powers affected the human brain.
"The cortex—target of Enchantment magic."
Floating beside him was a massive, pristine human skull, nearly 40 inches in size—far larger than a normal human skull. Under the guidance of his pointer, the skull gradually disassembled, revealing cross-sections of the brain with vividly flowing blood vessels. If not for the surreal nature of this display and the unique environment surrounding them, the scene could have been mistaken for a neuroscience lecture at University College London. Given the vastness of the subject matter, Solomon had to limit his teachings to neurobiology, cognitive neuroscience, and neuropsychology for now.
"The brain is an incredibly complex system," he said. "If you truly wish to master Mind Magic, you need to understand how Enchantment spells work. That is far more important for a spellcaster than simply learning the most powerful magic. With this knowledge, you can create spells that suit you best."
Wanda sighed in frustration and nodded reluctantly. Pietro, meanwhile, stifled a yawn. He deeply regretted his decision to take an interest in his sister's lessons—this was way harder than math and physics.
"We can compare this to transcranial magnetic stimulation—TMS technology. Clinically, Dr. Ian Cook from UCLA's Semel Institute for Neuroscience and Human Behavior has used TMS to induce neural reorganization as a treatment for depression."
At the tip of Solomon's pointer, small sparks of electricity crackled, stimulating the cortex of the brain model. He was using electric currents to simulate the transmission of neural signals.
"Beyond that, this technology can alleviate chronic pain, migraines, and anxiety. It can regulate emotions and mood. Enchantment magic functions similarly—only it is more precise and instantaneous, even capable of altering a person's moral judgment. Of course, that's still a bit advanced for you."
Solomon paused before adding, "But we can try something a bit more direct—memory erasure and memory implantation."
He rotated the massive brain model.
"The frontal and temporal lobes. These areas control various human behaviors. By interfering with the neural activity in these regions—combined with stress hormones and dopamine-induced secondary cascading reactions—you can completely overwhelm a subject's synapses, leading to permanent cognitive alterations. That is the fundamental logic behind implanted memories."
"Think about your own childhood memories, Wanda," Solomon continued, offering a brutal example. "Whenever you hear the name 'Stark,' you immediately recall the bomb. Your brain's neural network integrates that memory, reinforcing it over and over. But that reinforcement doesn't necessarily make it accurate."
He locked eyes with Wanda.
"Your memories aren't necessarily complete. The brain deceives itself."
"You don't believe me?" Wanda's fury surged from the pit of her stomach to the top of her head in an instant.
She couldn't accept this—couldn't accept Solomon doubting her. Despite their short time together, he had already become one of the people she trusted most. A betrayal from someone that close was devastating.
"You'd rather believe that damn billionaire?" she yelled, voice trembling with tears. "Just because he's your ally? My family—"
Her sudden outburst startled Pietro awake. He was now completely alert but had no clue what was happening. He watched his sister, on the verge of a breakdown, accusing Solomon through choked sobs.
"Wanda, I'm not saying I don't believe you." Solomon gently placed a hand on her shoulder.
"You were too young back then. As you grew, your brain continued to add details to those memories, reinforcing them. I need you to try and remember—"
But Wanda, overwhelmed, refused to listen.
"Listen to me!"
Solomon's voice carried a hint of magic.
"Calm down, Wanda! I don't think that Stark bomb was a dud!"
"What do you mean?" Pietro asked, now standing as well. "Are we ghosts or something?"
"From a multiversal perspective—yes."
Solomon turned to Pietro, his expression serious.
"When the U.S.-backed opposition launched their coup, that shipment of bombs—originally destined for the Middle East—ended up here instead," he said. "I checked the serial number. That batch had excellent quality control. In other words, the odds of that bomb being a dud were extremely low. My weapons are built to last."
"Then why…"
"Because the Mind Stone didn't give you your powers—it simply awakened them."
Solomon rested a hand on Wanda's shoulder.
"You already had these abilities as a child. Wanda's powers, in particular, are unique. I believe her subconscious magic suppressed the bomb's detonation. Remember what I told you before? Magic isn't a gift—it's a debt. And I need to figure out what debt Wanda owes from the past."
"And then?" Wanda, still teary-eyed, lowered her hands from her face and asked.
With a bright smile, Solomon dispelled the lingering darkness in her heart. Wanda suddenly felt embarrassed by her emotional outburst.
"Then, obviously," Solomon said, grinning, "we go beat the crap out of your debt collector!"
"I was just about to mock them anyway!"
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