Steve Rogers gritted his teeth as he watched the Avengers' agents being marched past their cell one by one. Their numbers were far fewer than the full transport capacity of Shield One and Falcon One—the two Quinjets they'd arrived on—not even half remained. Most of the survivors bore injuries and had only received minimal treatment so far. The pilot of Shield One had gone mad and crashed into the sea, killing at least half of the agents. The remaining survivors boarded Falcon One, only to endure heavy machine gun fire from the Sisters' heavy assault squad.
Although Rogers had shielded some with his own body, several agents had still perished along with the Quinjet, torn apart by explosive-caliber rounds. Sam Wilson—Falcon—was among the wounded being escorted.
Cassilius had not lied. Some agents could have survived, but because of Rogers' stubbornness, they had died on the tarmac. Rogers could see the hatred for the mages burning in the agents' eyes, a hatred that seemed to spread like a virus. Even Stark was becoming visibly furious—whistling mockingly, catcalling, shouting curses, trying to provoke the escorting mages.
But to the mages guarding them, neither the agents' hatred nor Stark's rage meant anything. These were not naïve apprentices—they were battle-hardened mages who had fought monsters. During their detention, the agents had been kept under tight control: their mouths sealed, limbs locked in metal restraints that prevented even the slightest movement. Not even a finger could twitch.
This was to prevent any corrupted individuals from sacrificing themselves to cast forbidden spells or draw blasphemous runes that could summon horrific entities into reality. It was a harsh practice honed by Kamar-Taj over a thousand years of blood-soaked experience—knowledge learned through failure and tragedy. Even Mordo's son, Daimon, had undergone such treatment.
Soon, the agents would undergo a mental inspection, conducted by Cassilius and a team of Steward-level mages—veterans skilled in resisting corruption. They weren't as elite as those hardened in extradimensional wars, but they still represented Kamar-Taj's backbone.
"You should've brought Banner with you!" Stark's complaints fell on deaf ears, but he continued talking as if he only needed a trash can to vent to.
"I know after South Africa, Banner didn't want to show his face—still has a warrant out on him. But if you'd gotten him, this mess might have been simpler. I wouldn't be rotting in here... Why didn't you just use your connections to get me out? I'll admit I was impulsive, but I didn't think it would get this bad..." Stark sighed heavily. "What do we do now?"
"There's nothing I can do," Steve Rogers said, clenching his fists tightly, his eyes lost and empty. "I don't even know who's right anymore. I don't know who to blame. Nick Fury said it—Solomon at least saved millions of innocent lives, even if they'll never know it. If I had stuck to letting the professionals handle it instead of dragging our people in, maybe those agents wouldn't have died."
"This mess is partly your fault," Stark said, slowly, "and mine too—for rushing in before it was over. But that doesn't mean Solomon's actions were right. He still illegally detained, interrogated, and probably even killed a woman. Even if she killed a high-ranking agent, that doesn't give him the right. Right?"
"You think Solomon cares about our laws?" Rogers said bitterly. "He follows the decrees of Kamar-Taj—their laws, their moral code. His notions of good and evil are rooted entirely in their rules. Natasha said it best: when it comes to magic, Solomon stops thinking like a person. It's like he has no personal desires at all. I can't even imagine someone like that. He's worse than Nick Fury."
"Maybe you should be a little optimistic," Stark said halfheartedly. "If none of the agents were actually corrupted, then nobody will die. Maybe it's all just mages overreacting."
But even as he said it, he knew it was a hollow comfort.
"The people I'm looking at right now... some of them, I'll never see again," Rogers said, staring as the line of agents disappeared into the far corridor. "They'll die at the hands of strangers—and they didn't even do anything wrong!"
"I'll remember this moment forever. Solomon's changed too much. In the beginning, the worst he ever did was minor curses. Now he can sacrifice others without blinking an eye."
Stark blinked, stunned. "Wait—what do you mean?"
Nick Fury, eavesdropping from the surveillance room, remained expressionless—but anyone could tell what he was feeling.
"Seems a lot of people misunderstand Solomon," Fury said to Victoria Hand, who sat at her desk still buried in paperwork. "I actually think the little curses were because Solomon couldn't act directly under the decrees. Before Romanoff released S.H.I.E.L.D.'s files to the public, Solomon had already deleted his own records—but I still remember the first time S.H.I.E.L.D. formally encountered him. Two strike teams went in... only the team leader survived. And he's been sipping juice from a hospital bed ever since."
"You got anything else to say before I throw you off the carrier?" Agent Hand said without looking up.
"I let Hydra infiltrate S.H.I.E.L.D.—my fault, V," Fury said, using her old nickname. "But I'm glad you found a place here. Solomon and I are the same type. I don't think you'll have any trouble fitting into that organization."
"Don't call me by a nickname, Fury," Victoria Hand said with a cold laugh. "You're fishing for information about that organization. Didn't Romanoff leave you any breadcrumbs?"
"Romanoff's not a spy anymore. She's a warrior now," Fury said, "and I'm not going to trouble her over this."
"So Natasha Romanoff doesn't work for you anymore." Hand finally smiled a little. "In that case, the best way to deal with the King of Spies is to say nothing at all. Because I know I can't lie to you. But lucky for me, now I have a better option—one that's never existed before."
"I'll show myself out," Fury said, raising his hands in mock surrender and walking out.
"One more thing," Hand called after him.
"What?"
"Control Agent Coulson," she said sharply. "He's turned into a vigilante, not a proper agent. His mission efficiency is abysmal, and he's causing unnecessary casualties. He's prioritizing his team's feelings over the mission itself. That's a serious violation of operational principles."
"I regret Gonzales' death too," Fury said. "But right now, Coulson's the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. I have no authority over him."
"Save it, Fury. Within the time limit set by the Monarch, I can't eliminate Coulson's team. But if they don't improve soon, I'll deal with it myself."
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Fairy Tail: Igneel's Eldest Son (Chapter 256)
I Am Thalos, Odin's Older Brother (Chapter 336)
Reborn in America's Anti-Terror Unit (Chapter 542)
Solomon in Marvel (Chapter 924)
Becoming the Wealthiest Tycoon on the Planet (Chapter 1284)
Surgical Fruit in the American Comics Universe (Chapter 1289)
American Detective: From TV Rookie to Seasoned Cop (Chapter 1316)
American TV Writer (Chapter 1402)
I Am Hades, The Supreme GOD of the Underworld! (Chapter 570)
Reborn as Humanity's Emperor Across the Multiverse (Chapter 660)
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