Salomon rubbed his burning eyes and recited a low incantation to calm his mind.
The fruit of wisdom granted by the Earth Mother had greatly helped him organize the knowledge bestowed by Shub-Niggurath, the Black Goat of the Woods. The fleshy apple was not just symbolic—it functioned like a compiler, converting the chaotic, fragmented knowledge into a readable, executable form, compatible with both of Salomon's magical systems (Warlock/Mage). Whether through science or sorcery, Salomon now stood closer to mastering the essence of life. He was on the brink of completing his genetic alchemy. He couldn't wait to inspect Lara Croft's findings rather than return to Kamar-Taj or the embrace of the witches—if the artifact truly originated from his hand, he would recognize it instantly.
"Heir to the throne of Midgard, High Deacon of the Kamar-Taj Hermitage, clearance code 1331, priority level one," he said impatiently, pressing the button on his command throne's armrest to open a shipwide channel. "Tell the Asgardians to stand down!"
"Captain, the Asgardian female officer insists—"
"Salomon Damonet, this is a routine inspection!" a strong female voice blasted into the captain's chamber via the crew communicator. "I can't believe you've brought a pack of pirates into the Nine Realms! Is that a cat-person? Does it have interstellar parasites? How the hell does it hold a wrench with paws?!"
"Good evening—or morning—to you too, Lady Sif," Salomon exhaled in exasperation. "By Odin's beard, I swear that cat has been bathed and doused in enough alchemical insecticide to kill a small planet. Please don't disturb it; it's shedding. And don't unplug the battery from the biomechanical unit! Do not shake the nutrient tank with the brain in it! I swear on the honor of Kamar-Taj, they're all under control. Any viruses or pathogens will be incinerated upon reentry. If possible, could your brother lend a hand and teleport this fleet to the edge of Midgard's solar system? I'll file the paperwork later."
"Charges go on your account. Gold only."
"Damn it—wasn't it supposed to be free?!" Salomon cut the comm with a growl. He was sure this was Loki's doing. Somehow, Asgard had raised the toll fees, and Kamar-Taj had been removed from the tax-exempt list! While their portal network could bypass such bureaucracy, the mere idea annoyed him. Complaints aside, the fleet's nuclear reactors were already overworked—after weeks of high-velocity cruising, the cooling systems were well beyond safe levels. According to the vice-captain's report, their heat dissipation was so compromised they could use lava as coolant. As for the corpses of mutinous crewmen, they'd long since sublimated into vapor and vented into space.
After a brief delay, the Bifrost enveloped the ships and transported the entire fleet to the outskirts of Pluto. Near Hydra, Salomon cast a level-three spell to notify Stephanie inside the Immortal City. The spell allowed voice or text to be transmitted directly to a recipient's mind, regardless of magical aptitude. Within the solar system, signal distortion was minimal. He was confident that even someone without magical talent like Stephanie would receive and understand it.
He needed her to secure the situation on Earth and ensure Lara Croft encountered no obstacles. Truthfully, Salomon had begun to notice a change in Stephanie. He wasn't sure if it was due to their time together, but before he left Earth, their coordination had reached new heights. He couldn't tell whether that change was good or bad—but he hoped she was still doing well. Perhaps it was time he paid more attention to his secretary. She was thirty-three now, and in dire need of retaining her youth and talent. Perhaps she was now finally showing it—he had simply been too blind to notice.
At the same time, he was troubled by the future revealed by the Earth Mother.
Not just the uncertain time-travel that loomed, but the implications of his own plan. If not for his future self traveling to the past and leaving behind the genetic alchemy records Lara was now pursuing—Salomon would never have known the prophecy or that it came from himself. He wouldn't have suspected that the "Divine Source" in the immortal prophet's possession might well be his own creation. He had no idea how many things his future self had planted, or whether they still fell within the continuity of spacetime. But he trusted his future self would know the limits. If the red line had been crossed, it must've been absolutely necessary.
Just as he was about to doze off, the vice-captain's voice jolted him awake.
"Captain, we've arrived at the target coordinates outside C-53's atmosphere. We're synchronizing with the planet's rotation. There seem to be primitive satellites and orbital stations—none armed. We could raid them easily." The vice-captain sounded tense. "Are we really going to go against Asgard? I mean, the crew's got no complaints, but still…"
"Who the hell said anything about raiding, you idiot?!" Salomon nearly exploded. "Is my dropship ready?"
"Prepped and ready, Captain! Would you like to deliver a conquest speech?"
"Shut up and get to the bridge."
The fleet's arrival triggered panic among nations with surveillance satellites—especially the United States. Moments later, a Bifrost beam pierced the alien fleet, and it vanished instantly. Meanwhile, an inconspicuous atmospheric shuttle plunged toward Earth. Wreathed in crimson flames, it shook violently as it reentered the atmosphere. Ablative armor sacrificed layer after layer to the immense heat, shedding glowing fragments into the sky. Thrusters fought to stabilize its descent, guiding it toward the designated coordinates.
Inside the cockpit, Salomon strapped himself in tightly, ensuring the restraints held him in place during the rough descent. He took a deep breath. This was the most dangerous part of reentry—between 80 and 100 kilometers above ground, where air density surged and the heat shield reached thousands of degrees Celsius.
But his concern wasn't for his own safety. It was for the fleet.
He had entrusted Vice-Captain Alex with a mission—one that would take a lifetime to fulfill.
Alex was to dedicate his entire life to maintaining the fleet's readiness, patrolling the region around Enn-Galay and the weak points between it and the Material Plane. He was to use extreme measures, never allowing any corrupted creature to escape that place. The fleet would serve as a hunting force, always recruiting and filtering new members. Salomon promised that someone would eventually relieve him of this duty—but until then, Alex was to do everything in his power to carry out this impossibly difficult mission.
To that end, Salomon had given him a vial of alchemical serum—extending his life—and officially appointed him as the new captain. Based on Celestial genetic protocols, the serum would work even on a Kree like Alex. As for the man's reluctance and the crew's emotional farewells, Salomon coldly ignored them.
As the Earth Mother had said—Salomon possessed unmatched logic and resolve.
Exactly as she had designed him to.
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