Dave still looked like he wanted to chat about his girlfriend Betty, but Victor von Doom didn't know him at all; forcing himself to give a nod was already above and beyond. After greeting Solomon Damonet, Victor cast a spell and left the valley. For him, nothing was more important than Latovinia now. The Undying City had entrusted him with personnel and armaments; he had to be responsible for the future of both the Undying City and Latovinia. As for the two Honor Guards, they cared about nothing except their duties. Only Solomon Damonet kept a polite smile—he had his back to Dave, and it looked as if he were listening intently to Dave's small talk.
In reality, he was multitasking—listening to Dave while slowly counting the personnel and vehicles below. In his head, Solomon Damonet estimated whether the War Department's next lists for fuel, munitions, and food matched actual needs. His efficiency far surpassed that of all the actuaries in the internal affairs department.
But when, after more than ten minutes, Solomon Damonet finished calculating the quantities of military supplies this camp would need in the next shipment, Dave's mouth still showed no sign of stopping. He was talking about how, after Betty graduated and found a job, she treated him to a pizza with her first paycheck, which moved him to tears—at the time, Dave was dressed like a vagrant. There was nothing good to eat on that planet; Merlin had dumped him there and slipped away without looking back, lest his students swarm him and make him stay. Now Dave planned to use some funds to rent an apartment and move in with Betty. But the Merlin School was dirt poor, and Merlin himself didn't have a single coin in his pockets— that old man lived by scamming money.
He was circling around to ask Solomon Damonet about it; even a brief stint of off-world study couldn't change some of the most basic traits of this awkward engineering student. "Of course I'll cover it for you, Dave. In fact, once you start working, you'll receive a monthly stipend, along with the Undying City's social security and medical insurance."
In truth, Solomon Damonet was a bit disappointed in Dave, though he understood. He wanted to make up for Betty's life, and that was fair enough. Not everyone can choose between family and work; not everyone can calmly face a calling. While Dave fretted about an apartment, Solomon Damonet was considering Latovinia's lack of strategic depth, the public-order pressures that would come with proactive expansion northward, and other details. He stopped listening and said directly, "This is something you've earned. Not everyone who has just entered the magical world gets to study on En-Galai for so long," he said. "Now, go pick an apartment you like. The Undying City will pay."
The assault transport lifted off vertically, then accelerated, carrying its passengers straight into the sky. "My lord, the next visitor will arrive in six minutes," Hammurabi Badia murmured after Dave left, leaning in. "Would you like a more comfortable place to receive them? For example, one of the tents the camp left behind?"
"That's a good idea. This guest doesn't care much for alcohol. Could you and Suppiluliumas brew two cups of tea? Honey only, no milk. Oh, thank you—I didn't realize you'd brought my reserve honey along as well. Was that Constantine's instruction?"
Steve Rogers had no idea the golden-armored giant was standing right in the corner of the tent. Only when Suppiluliumas set down the teacup beside him did a deathly chill brush the back of his neck. As the Honor Guard placed the palm-sized cup in front of him, Steve struggled to suppress his nerves. The instincts he'd honed through countless special operations kept warning him that coming here was a foolish decision.
Not everyone can stay calm after seeing the sheer size of an Honor Guard—especially someone like Steve Rogers, himself a genetically enhanced soldier. He didn't want to see more enhanced individuals turned into weapons. It wasn't jealousy; it was that he knew if people like him appeared on the battlefield at scale, it would be a disaster for all humanity.
But the world would not bend to his wishes. He had to admit he was already falling behind the times. Somehow, Solomon Damonet had mastered powerful gene-modification technology. Steve realized he had never truly known the man sitting across the long table. From their very first meeting, every one of Solomon Damonet's actions had carried deeper meaning. From beginning to end, not even Nick Fury had unearthed his true identity. And yet Steve could not stay away—because Solomon Damonet had shown him horrors he thought long vanished from the stream of history.
The goal he had fought for all his life had been ruthlessly betrayed. What he hated had never vanished. He, the soldier, had never completed his mission. This was a negotiation—or rather, in Steve Rogers' eyes it was, even if he knew that wasn't the case.
From the tracked imprints outside the tent, he had already concluded that a mechanized infantry force had been here—one that used no equipment belonging to any nation on Earth. Combined with the recent intelligence on Latovinia's political upheaval, Steve quickly deduced that Solomon Damonet was the mastermind; he just didn't know how this young man had created such terrifying war potential.
"If you read the books I gave you carefully, you would understand my ideals, Steve Rogers," Solomon Damonet said calmly after taking a sip of tea. "What you abhor is what I abhor. The Undying City has saved tens of thousands of civilians in Eastern Europe. The freedom I seek for the human species as a whole does not conflict with the personal freedom you seek. I believe you've read the dossier I gave you. You also know the curses that greeted you when you appeared in Eastern Europe. But you still went—and I respect that greatly. Only Tony Stark still can't figure out why Afghans hate him. To those who suffer, the Avengers are nothing but America's dog. So are you going to keep being that leashed dog, or do what you know is right?"
"What do you want me to do?" Steve Rogers asked.
"Bring your shield. Bring your principles and your sense of right and wrong, and fight for justice for ordinary people."
"I've always done that," Steve Rogers wanted to say, but the words stuck in his throat. He knew that even in the past, the power he served continued to profit, waging aggression in the name of justice. After seeing that report, he understood that the so-called super-soldier was just a fool running circles under a baton, that brave and noble souls were giving their lives for tycoons they knew nothing about.
The world had changed too much. He felt increasingly powerless. He was old—not in body, but in a fatigue that rose from the depths of his soul.
"All who sacrifice for my ideal will have their due. I will completely halt the pointless internal strife between human nations. Everyone will become fuel for the human race's march to the stars—including myself. I will use them with care, because I understand the value of each person. Tony Stark cannot understand this. Nick Fury cannot understand this. But I believe you can. You know the meaning of sacrifice, and you know that peace must be bought with blood," Solomon Damonet said with a sincere expression, belying the fact that he had just delivered a highly stirring speech. "I'm asking for your help, Steve Rogers—help me create a world of true freedom, reason, and equality. Go be the righteous man you wish to be. I swear to you, this time no one will betray you. We will fight side by side."
"One last question. How can you guarantee that everything you're doing is worth it?"
Facing the challenge, Solomon Damonet's response was utterly calm. "Because I know I'm right, that's all."
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