Daisy Johnson sat drowsily in her seat, trying to sleep away the long, grueling return trip. Melinda May had also relaxed, setting the Quinjet to autopilot before slumping back in the pilot's chair, eyes half-closed, recuperating from the energy drained during the mission. To return to S.H.I.E.L.D. base, the Quinjet needed to cross the Atlantic—no matter how fast it flew, it would still take several hours. May hadn't had a proper rest since rushing back from home, piloting the jet to Morocco without pause. The cabin was quiet. Other than Joseph Haddad's occasional groans of pain in his half-conscious state, there wasn't a sound.
"What's going on? May!" The plane jolted violently, slamming the back of Daisy's head into the cushioned seat. She woke with a scream and immediately looked to May, who was now wide awake and frantically adjusting the controls.
"Engine failure! Damn it, probably from lack of maintenance!" May shouted. She glanced out through the cockpit window and made a swift decision. "Daisy, protect Joseph Haddad. We're going to need some help."
"My lord, the assassin has forced the Quinjet carrying Melinda May and Daisy Johnson to make an emergency landing in the Atlantic," came the report Stephanie received while returning to the Immortal City aboard the sky carrier. She immediately brought the briefing to Solomon at the command seat. Without interrupting his other duties, she handed over a handwritten summary. "The assassin has erased all traces that could lead back to us. He's already arrived at Safehouse AE.10041.26." She continued, "Joseph Haddad is also in our hands. The assassin is requesting authorization to begin the interrogation protocol."
"Approved." Without looking up, the magus pressed his digital seal on the tablet before him. At the very moment he did, the assassin was already performing rudimentary surgery on Haddad—sealing blood vessels, removing bone splinters, suturing muscle and skin. He was not a licensed doctor, but the training AI and medical supplies in the safehouse were sufficient to carry out the procedure. He had selected the forced landing site precisely so he could transfer Haddad to the safehouse before he bled to death.
Inside the assassin's helmet, a complex dynamic encryption pattern flickered. A stream of data was processed to match a digital signature.
Once the seal's encrypted pattern was scanned and verified against a dynamic cipher key, it confirmed the order originated from Solomon and the Internal Affairs Department. Many within the Immortal City didn't even know Solomon's name or appearance. They verified his commands through this elaborate encrypted protocol. The parchment Stephanie presented alongside the briefing also bore such a seal—the order to capture Haddad had been her idea. She wanted to uncover the monolith's origin—not just because it implicated the Malick family and could further their research, but also because of Solomon's warning.
If the monolith really had extraterrestrial ties, they needed to learn how to kill those aliens first.
Meanwhile, in the Himalayas, the mystics of Kamar-Taj had begun poring over old records, trying to uncover the monolith's secrets. An extinction-level event could not be ignored. Even Solomon hadn't expected that, by now, his authority in Kamar-Taj was second only to the Sorcerer Supreme.
After years of compiling and authoring magical treatises, his writings had become required reading for apprentices—second only to the Book of the Vishanti. Though his works were mostly foundational—On the Elements, The Astral and the Aether, A Study of Dimensional Rifts, Interactions Between Hallucinations, Hormones, and the Nervous System—and almost devoid of literary flair, the Sorcerer Supreme had heaped praise upon him. The Ancient One had even declared Solomon the most knowledgeable mystic in Kamar-Taj history, a peer to Agamotto.
Even Baron Mordo and Kaecilius didn't object to orders from Solomon. Mystical families like the one led by Master Hamir also obeyed without complaint. The Sorcerer Supreme was aware this could lead to future schisms within Kamar-Taj, but she wasn't concerned. She believed her disciple could handle such minor issues.
As long as no one killed the next Sorcerer Supreme, things would be fine.
"Complete this operation, and I'll unlock access to Kamar-Taj's communications network," the magus said, granting Stephanie another level of authority. He had immense trust in this young (under 40) woman. The Malick family had thrown in their lot with him completely—there was no turning back.
"Whatever it takes."
Stephanie understood immediately—this meant collateral damage could be ignored.
"My lord, there's another matter requiring your decision," she added. "General Hale, from Whitehall's NAZI-faction Hydra, wants to join our cause. She wants her daughter—Whitehall's eugenics project, Ruby—to become one of us. You met the girl at the Hydra youth facility. She's under heavy investigation now and only we can help her."
Solomon lifted his gaze, locking eyes with Stephanie. Recognizing the look, she quickly explained, "I personally believe the Hydra training camp model has value. I suggest we create a similar system for training civil servants. General Hale could play a key role."
After a moment, the magus finally looked away.
Stephanie exhaled in relief, feeling as if his gaze had stripped her bare, leaving no secrets untouched.
"Ruby. Ruby… She could be of greater use. Whitehall's eugenics research wasn't completely baseless. Her physical attributes are excellent—she just needs a little mental refinement," Solomon said, not deliberating long. "If General Hale can follow our confidentiality protocols and help us plant assets within the U.S. Department of Defense, then let her bring her daughter. I'll grant Ruby a position. But first, I want a face-to-face conversation with her."
Stephanie nodded.
"Your itinerary is already arranged, right after you return from picking up your cat at the veterinary hospital and having dinner with the witch—emphasis on dinner." She grinned as Solomon's serious expression morphed into one of surprise, then reluctant resignation. Cheerfully, she added, "A few hours ago, Miss Bayonetta called. She said your cat vomited from overeating and had to be taken to the vet. She wants you to pick it up—she's busy shopping for Christmas presents."
"Damn it."
"My lord, should I send someone to handle this?"
"I'll go myself. It's the same vet who neutered the Cheshire Cat, isn't it?"
"And this," she added, handing him a note, "is the gift list Miss Bayonetta prepared for you. I must say, her taste is excellent—aside from the fact that she didn't invite me to dinner, of course." Stephanie cleared her throat theatrically. "With all due respect, you need to find balance between work and personal life. My father faced something similar when he was younger. Perhaps his experience could be of use to you."
The magus neither confirmed nor denied.
(End of Chapter)
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