Solomon felt like a walking disaster trigger—trouble seemed to follow him wherever he went. He chalked it up to coincidence, but even so, he decided it was best to leave Stark Tower. Agent Maria Hill's annoyed gaze had made it abundantly clear how little she appreciated his presence. Even though Solomon had protected her during the explosion, it hadn't improved her opinion of him in the slightest.
From Hill's perspective, someone like Solomon, untrained and unpredictable, only added to the chaos by sticking around. Leaving behind his gift, Solomon awkwardly made his exit from Stark Tower. He had some rare free time today—no studying—so he decided to accept Athena's invitation to visit the orphanage and educate the children there.
Especially little Lorna. The girl had become increasingly rebellious lately. The cause, Solomon suspected, was the resurgence of America's counterculture in the wake of the alien invasion.
It was reminiscent of the 1960s, when the "Beat Generation" emerged amid a wave of disillusionment. Both periods saw a crisis of confidence in the government, driven by capitalism's grip on state power and the inability of traditional systems to ensure safety or equity. The stark divide between rich and poor, coupled with widespread anxiety and skepticism, had only been amplified by the Battle of New York.
This cultural shift brought with it a rejection of traditional values and the resurgence of rebellious and libertarian ideals. Some sought to escape this anxiety by envisioning utopian solutions or rejecting harsh societal realities altogether. But regardless of the bigger picture, Solomon had to ensure that Lorna didn't go down the wrong path—wearing chunky gold chains, smoking weed, or worse—before she set a bad example for the other kids.
They were decent people, and they had to steer clear of such vices. Drugs, particularly addictive ones, were the worst of all. Though Solomon had access to countless alchemical substances with addictive properties, he had never used them irresponsibly or allowed those around him to try them—except for Cheshire Cat. The cat's "addiction" was limited to catnip-infused hairball remedy, which was specially made by the android to help it cough up hairballs. To stop Lorna from being influenced, Solomon intercepted her just as she was about to leave the orphanage to hang out with her questionable friends. Ignoring her protests, he picked her up and carried her back to her room.
"They said they've got something good today!" Lorna squirmed in his grip, but she couldn't stop Solomon from pulling off her ridiculous shutter shades.
"And what 'good stuff' would that be?" Solomon sneered. "Let me guess—tranquilizers, OxyContin, maybe Vicodin? Liquid LSD? Or worse, weed you'd have to steal from the pharmacy? I've told you before: don't ever touch that garbage. And if you must go out, at least bring a gun. Oh, and go change your clothes. It's still cold out, and wearing a crop top is a surefire way to catch a cold."
"You sound like an old man, Solomon," Lorna pouted as she reluctantly put on a large leather jacket. The jacket, a black biker style, was originally purchased by Solomon for himself to wear while riding a motorcycle. But he never found the time to use it, and when Lorna took a liking to it, he gave it to her without hesitation.
On Lorna, the jacket was oversized, with the hem nearly reaching her knees. She looked like a tiny ball with two skinny legs sticking out. Despite this, Lorna's mood quickly brightened. She started jumping up and down on her bed in her boots—something that made Solomon frown deeply—before launching herself into his arms. Solomon quickly caught the reckless girl.
"Have you noticed how the other girls look at you?" Lorna whispered into Solomon's ear mischievously. "They practically want to devour you. Some of them said they wouldn't mind having your baby."
"Kids these days are so bold?" Solomon was taken aback. "They're twelve years old! Why are they even thinking about that?"
"One of them is already pregnant. You've met her—the chubby one. But she doesn't even know which boyfriend the baby's father is."
Still clinging to Solomon's neck like a koala, Lorna wouldn't let go no matter how hard he tried to peel her off. "They're all kids from poor families, like me," she continued. "They only came to the rich neighborhood to scrape together some money for an abortion. That girl's dad is getting out of prison soon, and she's afraid he'll shoot her current boyfriend. Just let me go out with them. I swear I'll bring a gun, and if I have to kill someone, I'll call you right away. I even memorized your phone number!"
"My god, this world is a mess." Solomon sighed. "Alright, stop sulking. I'll let you go out with them. Here's $200 for you and $500 for the girl's procedure. Don't waste it—this money is for a purpose."
Clearly not an expert in parenting, Solomon's approach was indulgent, if nothing else. Unable to resist Lorna's pleading, he reluctantly gave in. "And no unnecessary shooting. Guns are for self-defense. Remember, unless it's absolutely necessary to kill someone, don't even take it out. Got it?"
"Got it, got it." Lorna, having achieved her goal, lazily hopped off, her dismissive attitude making Solomon frown again. He nearly forgot the reason he had come to talk to her in the first place. Before she could slip out the door with her money, Solomon grabbed her green-and-black hair and pulled her back.
"What now?" Lorna glared up at him. "Don't tell me you're taking it back!"
"No, not that." Solomon said, sitting her down beside him. "I wanted to ask if you'd like to meet your family."
"You found them?" Lorna puffed out a breath, blowing her bangs up as she shifted her gaze away. Her tone was dismissive, but the act was clearly a shield for old wounds. "I didn't ask you to find them. I've been abandoned, so who cares? I'm doing fine now. Minerva takes good care of us."
"I didn't find your parents," Solomon clarified, pulling her into a seat beside him. "Remember the research Minerva and I did on you? About interdimensional interference? What I found were siblings of yours from a parallel universe. They aren't your parents' children in this world, but they share similar genetics with you."
"And what does that matter? Solomon, my family is here—with you guys. Parallel universes have nothing to do with me."
"Okay, let me put it another way. Do you want superpowers?"
"Yes!" Lorna almost jumped in excitement but quickly shrank back. "But my powers are disappearing… Minerva says that when we grow up, our abilities stabilize and fade away. And even now, mine aren't very useful. I can't even bend a spoon anymore."
"The reason I mentioned your parallel-universe siblings is because they're stabilizing their powers. I haven't figured out the exact method yet, but if they can, you can too."
"But Minerva wouldn't like it." Lorna shrank further, retreating into a corner where the sunlight couldn't reach. Outwardly indifferent, she clearly cared deeply about Athena's opinion. After all, this orphanage was her only home.
"I'll convince her. Besides, I haven't completely figured out how it works yet. I just wanted to see if you were interested. If you want your powers, I'll figure it out and stabilize them for you. The world is getting more dangerous." ("I know, I watch TV!" Lorna interrupted.) "I want my family to have the ability to protect themselves. Minerva taught you how to use a spear, didn't she? She feels the same way."
"You promise?"
"I promise. You know Minerva and I love you, and we love all the kids here. We'd never let anything happen to you."
Meanwhile, outside the orphanage, some suspicious figures were lurking...
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