"I bring wisdom and war, Agent Coulson."
"This is just a rescue mission. There's no need for—"
Coulson struggled to keep his emotions in check. What he saw before him had already far exceeded anything he had anticipated. Rapidly recalling S.H.I.E.L.D.'s intelligence files on Solomon, along with the contingency plans and notes left behind by Nick Fury, he reached an expected conclusion. "You knew I'd come to you, didn't you? Or… have your spies already infiltrated S.H.I.E.L.D.?"
"Just as you regard me as a friend, I do the same," Solomon said, not denying the second possibility. "Which is why I won't tell you about some of the truly terrible things that lie ahead. Because I'm a goddamn prophet, Coulson. Understand?"
He invited Coulson and Daisy Johnson aboard the gunship that had just landed. Given its dual-mounted heavy explosive machine guns, the overextended main cannon, and armor so thick it practically shimmered with menace, Coulson wisely chose not to provoke him. Solomon promised that he wouldn't disclose the location of Coulson's base to anyone else—a promise that arguably carried more weight than U.S. federal law.
"Jemma Simmons' disappearance is linked to a potentially extinction-level event," Solomon said, intentionally omitting any mention of Stephanie's theory so Coulson wouldn't turn his focus to her. Investigating Stephanie's identity wasn't particularly difficult, and Solomon didn't want the Malik family attracting unwanted attention while they were trying to clean up their image. "That's why I brought the sky carrier."
"Why can't we be honest with each other, Solomon?"
"Because some things are too horrifying for ordinary people, Agent Coulson. Ignorance is bliss—I didn't understand that phrase until much later in life. If you push transparency and a free society to the extreme, the entire world will collapse into chaos. I don't know what changed you, but I've always thought S.H.I.E.L.D.'s old way was right. Some truths simply shouldn't be shared with the unnecessary."
"You're calling us 'unnecessary'?" Daisy Johnson fastened her seatbelt but looked ready to leap up and punch someone.
"Yes," Stephanie said coldly. "S.H.I.E.L.D. should stick to playing its game—pretending to uphold your so-called 'democracy' while loyally wiping the elite's asses. That's your true job."
"You—"
Daisy nearly exploded, red in the face as if Stephanie had jammed a chili pepper up her nose. The two women bickered constantly, sparring with words like a pair of rival predators. Not even the gunship's turbulence could shake them from their verbal duel. Solomon glanced at Coulson, who looked just as exasperated.
The sky carrier's speed rivaled that of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Zephyr One. With Eternal City's technology powering it, the fully enclosed behemoth could theoretically make a supply run to the Moon if needed.
The hangar's pressure lock sealed shut. After Zero—his face still bruised from turbulence—confirmed that the cabin pressure was stable, Coulson and Daisy disembarked with Solomon.
"This feels like being back with S.H.I.E.L.D.," Coulson said as he watched the orderly chaos of the command deck. "Reminds me of the Battle of New York. You know, before I died."
He wanted badly to examine what Solomon had done to the carrier, but there was no time. He was focused solely on the mission.
"Relax. Let the navigator set the course. Establish comms with Zephyr One—if they misinterpret our intentions, we'll have to shoot them down."
Solomon stood at the command station, theatrically fiddling with buttons. Catherine subtly reached out, armored fingers gripping his hand to stop him from crashing the sky carrier into the Earth below—ten thousand feet of altitude wouldn't kill Solomon, but it would definitely kill the rest of the crew.
"Your throne is in the rear, my lord," she whispered, glancing at the S.H.I.E.L.D. guests. "You just need to give orders."
Solomon smiled. Emotional intelligence in an artificial being was a good sign. Perhaps Catherine's usual brashness was a façade. "Hand the drive to my secretary. We'll start soon." He waved over a physicist and Coulson. "I'll honor my side of the deal. We do have an agreement, after all."
"Thank you. Truly."
"It's nothing. Just keep your little hacker on a leash and stop her from breaking everything."
"You know where her hostility toward you comes from?"
"I do. I should thank Jiaying—she told me exactly what I wanted to know." Solomon's face turned cold. "And I'll tell you something else. I wanted Jiaying to go mad. Because I believe you shouldn't have learned that truth. S.H.I.E.L.D. can't face that kind of enemy. Only the Eternal City—and only I—can."
Coulson let out a weary sigh.
Compared to the old S.H.I.E.L.D., Solomon's methods weren't even that extreme. Lobotomies were once the preferred solution for rogue agents holding critical intel. Coulson had even personally overseen a few "icepick" procedures. He realized now that modern S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Eternal City had become two extremes of the agency he once knew—one humanistic and emotional, the other cold and rational. Perhaps this dichotomy was exactly what Nick Fury had intended when he left part of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s resources to Solomon. Maybe he believed both were necessary. Or maybe he just wanted one side to win.
Coulson no longer knew what his old boss had in mind.
"Don't let her find out, Solomon. Please—don't let her know."
Last time Coulson visited this base, he'd gone to great lengths to hide its location. But Solomon still found it. After Coulson contacted them, the concrete gate split open, and a swarm of assault transports burst through the airtight locks. They dove toward the ground, then pulled up at the last moment to land smoothly on the tarmac.
Solomon, Stephanie, Catherine, and S.H.I.E.L.D.'s two agents were aboard the final transport. Waiting to greet them were Melinda May and Barbara Morse. Barbara, tall and statuesque, still looked small next to Solomon.
"Zephyr One's still catching up," Stephanie yawned through her helmet, stretching her limbs. She switched on the suit's external speaker. "If we're riding that, we might as well bring a French chef—at least then we could eat a proper dinner instead of choking down sandwiches."
Catherine was still trying to come up with a good insult for the base's lackluster setup.
Unfortunately, her literary skills weren't as sharp as Stephanie's, and she couldn't spit out venom quite as fast.
"I like her," Barbara whispered to May, batting her eyes.
May rolled her eyes in response.
(End of Chapter)
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