A complex sequence of electronic signals raced through underground networks, bouncing between communication towers to avoid detection before reaching a secret satellite orbiting above the United States. After a security check, the satellite redirected the signal to a cell tower in New York City, and from there, into Solomon's phone.
Sitting in his apartment, Solomon glanced at the unknown number flashing on the screen, his brows furrowing in suspicion. It was the day after the S.H.I.E.L.D. infiltration and the Skrull assassination. The party he had attended the previous night had ended abruptly once he shared his grim revelations. Thor and Loki had returned to Asgard, Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton had disappeared on separate assignments, Captain Rogers had remained tight-lipped about his plans, and Tony Stark had buried himself in S.H.I.E.L.D. documents.
Solomon, however, had been waiting for Natasha's report.
"You know what you've done, don't you?" Nick Fury's familiar voice growled from the other end of the line, the anger palpable even through the phone. But Solomon felt no remorse. In fact, Fury's reproach reignited the embers of his own smoldering fury.
"Of course, I know what I've done," Solomon replied coldly. His tone was calm, but the heat beneath it caused Bayonetta, seated beside him, to glance over with concern. Gently stroking his short hair, she silently urged him to keep his emotions in check. Solomon nodded slightly, signaling he wouldn't let anger cloud his judgment. Taking a deep breath, he added, "The question is whether you know what you're doing, Fury. You've let cosmic parasites onto Earth."
"Romanoff already told me everything," Fury snapped, his frustration evident. For all Solomon's uncertainty about Natasha's loyalties, her informing Fury of the incident hadn't surprised him. Fury continued, his voice brimming with ire, "Those parasites were my allies! You've completely derailed my plans! Without them, my investigations are compromised!"
"I don't care about S.H.I.E.L.D.'s petty schemes," Solomon retorted. "Understand this: Kamar-Taj doesn't exist to share Earth with alien species. What you've done is a betrayal, Fury. You can't control the Skrulls, just as you can't control magic."
"They're my allies," Fury repeated. "You don't understand the stakes."
"They're parasites," Solomon countered, his disdain bleeding through the line. "If the Skrulls decide to hide among humanity, or worse, infiltrate high-ranking governments to control society, how would you find them? Tell me, Fury—do you have the means to uncover them?"
Fury fell silent, the weight of the question hanging heavily in the air. After a long pause, he finally spoke. "I trusted them. You've destroyed that trust. You've killed some of the few remaining Skrulls."
"No one with sense would trust them," Solomon spat. "I will never stake humanity's future on your fragile trust with a race of liars."
"And I'll never entrust Earth's safety to a secretive mage I don't fully understand," Fury shot back. "I've said it before—we're the same, you and I."
"Then there's nothing left to discuss," Solomon said coolly. "You don't trust me, and I don't trust you. But understand this, Fury: betraying humanity comes with a price."
"I would never betray humanity!" Fury barked. "The Skrulls are here to help protect Earth. Your actions are short-sighted! You know what's out there, beyond Earth, yet you and your precious Kamar-Taj remain bound by this tiny planet! Humanity can't face galactic threats alone. We need allies!"
"Say what you want," Solomon replied, his voice laced with finality. "But Skrulls will never be allowed on Earth. Cooperation with them is out of the question. If they step foot here, there's only one fate for them: death. I'll scry, I'll prophesize, and I'll purge them one by one. And if you insist on standing in my way, Fury, then you'll share their fate—even if it means losing someone irreplaceable like you. Letting some things slide is better than letting Skrulls infiltrate human society."
"You're so generous," Fury said, sarcasm dripping from every word. "But I didn't call just to talk about this."
"I know what you discovered," Solomon interrupted. "That Skrull I killed told me part of the story—it said you'd found something."
"Yes," Fury admitted. "There's a possible infiltration within S.H.I.E.L.D., but I've found no solid evidence yet. That Skrull was meant to act as my decoy while I investigated from the shadows. Do you understand now, you little punk?"
"I understand," Solomon said flatly. "But I don't regret what I did. That Skrull also learned of Kamar-Taj's existence. I suspect it wanted to exploit this knowledge to bypass my contract and reveal my secrets to your superiors."
"Mother f***er! I never intended that!" Fury growled. "Can't you trust me even a little?"
"I'll trust you when you stop prying into magic," Solomon replied coldly. "But let me make this clear, Fury: the problems you're dealing with in S.H.I.E.L.D.? Half of them are your own doing. Sort out your mess. And stop bothering me."
"F*** off, Fury."
Before Fury could respond, Solomon ended the call.
"What did he want?" Jeanne asked curiously, watching as Solomon leaned back in his chair, deep in thought. The witches had been briefed about the Skrulls the day before, but even they were stunned by Fury's audacity to call with a request after his monumental blunder.
"He says it's a personal favor," Solomon muttered, his displeasure evident. "Nothing to do with S.H.I.E.L.D. business. I could refuse, but doing so might have catastrophic consequences down the line. I need him—he's crucial for preventing a potential extinction-level event. Fury doesn't realize it, but his request is something I can't reject."
"What's the favor?" Bayonetta pressed, her curiosity piqued.
Solomon's phone buzzed with a text message containing coordinates. He glanced at it and sighed. "Remember that old 'good guy' I mentioned from S.H.I.E.L.D.?" he said.
The witches nodded.
"Well, he's dead. And now, I'm going to oversee the project that'll bring him back to life."
Elsewhere, Natasha Romanoff reclined on a park bench, enjoying the afternoon sun filtering through the tree canopy. Wearing simple clothes and sunglasses, she looked like any ordinary citizen. The area was secluded, ensuring no one overheard her conversation.
"How'd I do?" she asked the figure on the opposite bench. "Didn't I deliver exactly what you asked for?"
"You're cunning, I'll give you that," Solomon replied with a wry smile. "You knew Fury would contact me, didn't you? And that he'd pull you into his investigation. You practically did nothing yourself."
"That's what spies do, kid," Natasha said with a smirk. "Don't forget, you owe me. A deal's a deal."
"I won't break my word," Solomon conceded. "Go ahead—name your price. I think I already know what it is."
"Oh?" Natasha arched a brow. "Do you now? Let's make it interesting. Let's play a game. If you guess correctly, I'll let you name another request. If you're wrong…" She leaned in close, her face just inches from his. "Well, let's just say I'll have the upper hand."
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