The Immortal City's dungeon lay two hundred meters directly below the grand Gothic tower of the Ministry of the Interior. It had originally been built at least five hundred years ago by the Brotherhood of the Holy Shield to imprison dangerous criminals and store hazardous devices. Thick layers of vibranium alloy and granite sealed it off from the outside world; compared to it, every bank vault on Earth was as fragile as a glass windowpane that could be cracked with a casual knock of the knuckles.
After Solomon took over, he personally redesigned and rebuilt the place, using powerful engineering machinery to further expand and reinforce it, turning it into an underground city beneath the underground city. Although he himself was reluctant to admit it, Ms. Maya Hansen, the very first official employee of the Immortal City, had once had the rare privilege of witnessing her boss, shovel in hand, casting spells to turn massive rock walls into soil before digging them out on a grand scale. Back then, Solomon had no resources, and many things could only be done by his own hands. He had even joked, in a spirit of grim amusement, that this was "another great feat after commanding the seventy-two demons to build the Temple."
After the reconstruction, the dungeon was as complex as a spider's web; one had to know the correct routes and pass multiple layers of security to make it through the guard quarters and find the platform leading to the core without getting lost. But reaching the core didn't mean the challenges were over—every corridor, no matter the length, was fitted with heavy automatic machine guns. These fearsome weapons were controlled by independent low-grade artificial intelligences, ready to unleash a metal storm on anyone who didn't belong there.
In addition, alchemical war machines—restricted only by the Praetorian Guard and the ruler of the Immortal City—patrolled in hidden positions. To evolve these constructs, which had once been nothing more than razor-limbed automatons, into the formidable close-combat and heavy-fire platforms they were now, Solomon had poured in considerable effort. The small railguns capable of instant acceleration to Mach 20 were his own work. He had even personally cast and fixed spells into the alloy corridors to summon hunters from the unseen world, roaming in the invisible realm to stalk and kill any enemy who tried to infiltrate. If Robbie Reyes were to step out of his cell, he would face one of these otherworldly hellhounds.
Only a handful of people in the world had clearance to enter this dungeon. After receiving temporary clearance, Wanda Maximoff was led by a black-uniformed, expressionless Ministry official through the obsidian gate inlaid with gold, deep in the tower's lower levels, and down hundreds of spiral steps into the dry, frigid air of the depths.
The further she descended, the colder the air became, her breath condensing into white mist that glittered in the bright, cool lights. Rubbing her hands, she continued down, passing through a staff-level passage and submitting to genetic code authentication before arriving at a steel platform spanning the stairway's central shaft. There, a tall figure in a deep red robe stood with his back to her, leaning on the railing to gaze intently into the fathomless darkness below. From the artificially excavated abyss, cold air drifted upward, while cold lights embedded in the rough rock walls spread like an endless starry sky.
"You didn't file a request in advance," the man said.
"I know. But I think Robbie Reyes has the right to learn something about himself. His situation can't get much worse," Wanda Maximoff replied, walking toward him. She lifted her chin, her expression defiant. "Or do you think keeping him in the dark is some kind of kindness?"
The eyes that could pierce the dark turned toward her. Contrary to what she expected, Wanda saw no cold reproach or anger in them—only the same mildness as always. She let out a breath of relief. The deeper she became involved in the Immortal City's affairs, the more she realized her teacher was not as gentle as he appeared. His ultimate ideal was a crushing weight, the situations he faced were harsh and unrelenting, and he had to steel his heart against the grim horizons ahead. He was a man with a ruthless core, though flashes of humor and casual remarks could still wash away those shadows.
"You thought I was scolding you?" Solomon looped a red scarf around her neck. "This is today's handiwork. I need something for my hands to do while I read, so I knitted a scarf."
"Isn't it?" She pressed the thick scarf to her chest, feeling its imperfect yet real warmth. Her tone softened. "I'm seeing more and more darkness in Constantine. His methods are nothing like yours. I can't read his mind, but I don't think he'd disobey your orders. If he acted like that, it could only be from your will."
"If you can, please see him as a human being with an independent personality. He's simply evolved a bit ahead of the curve," Solomon said, meeting her gaze directly. "Constantine's behavioral patterns are shaped by the education he's received. The Praetorian Guard's training inevitably leaves mental traces—after all, his mind was scrubbed thoroughly. He needs time to fill in his own personality. I have no wish to make him a cold-blooded robot. If I wanted that, I'd just build autonomous combat robots to serve as the Praetorian Guard—it would be easier. I promise you, Constantine will become a rational, normal man. All he needs is time."
"So his actions aren't entirely by your orders?"
"Of course not. I only give him objectives. How he achieves them is up to him—he's capable of choosing the method he deems fit," Solomon said. "But I suggest you pay attention to your own performance in the field. Your mistake was in that three-hour standoff on the Los Angeles freeway—you could have handled it better instead of leaving Constantine to wrap up your mission. In the public eye, the Immortal City confronting S.H.I.E.L.D. head-on violates the strategy I'm currently pursuing, and that will force extra pressure on us. And arranging a meeting with Robbie Reyes without my approval has made the witches quite unhappy—I promised to take them on vacation."
Wanda drew in a deep breath, guilt slicing through her heart like spinning blades.
"I'm sorry," she said sincerely. "And about the garage, too."
Solomon didn't answer immediately. He already knew Wanda had asked Victoria Hand to channel her stipend—under the guise of an insurance payout—to the garage owner. While not as extravagant as the salaries of tech conglomerate CEOs or industrial magnates, the stipend he gave Wanda was still more than many senior bank executives earned.
"When you see Bayonetta and Jeanne, you can apologize to them. As for the one who helped you with the other matter, you can find her on the top floor of the Ministry tower. Stephanie had to call in her connections and give up a lot to barely patch over the lie that the Immortal City was a congressional black-ops unit. Once you see her, you'll understand how hard she's worked." After a moment, the magus said quietly, "Don't waste time—come with me to see Robbie Reyes. I'll make sure he learns what he needs to know. But there will be no next time, Wanda. Next time you'll complete the mission alone. No one will be there to help you."
______
(≧◡≦) ♡ Support me and read 20 chapters ahead – patreon.com/Mutter
Every 100 Power Stones = 1 extra chapter on Saturday.
Every 5 reviews = 1 extra chapter on Saturday.