As she stepped through the thin synthetic wooden door, Agent Romanoff was immediately wrapped in a delicate, invisible web of warmth. The ever-constant 25°C temperature was pleasant but made her heavy coat unnecessary. Solomon, ever the gentleman, helped her remove it and casually draped it over the odd-looking head of a small robot before gesturing for her to step out of the portal room and take in the sights of the Eternal City.
Massive gantry cranes and mechanical arms worked in tandem to dismantle the aerial cannons of the Helicarriers. Laser cutters sliced through their metallic hulls, while electromagnetic clamps removed the severed armor plates and set them aside. The material had a yield strength far superior to the steel used in Nimitz-class nuclear aircraft carriers, yet it was significantly lighter. Designed to accommodate more Quinjets and super cannons, the Helicarriers had never been built to withstand direct attacks. As a result, their defensive capabilities had been compromised, and their damage control units were laughably small.
What Romanoff was witnessing was the Eternal City's complete overhaul of the Helicarriers, and she had not expected Solomon to possess such high-tech engineering equipment.
She discreetly glanced at her satellite phone, but to no surprise, there was no signal. Her communicator and GPS system were entirely nonfunctional. No one other than Solomon knew where she was. A quick glimpse at the rocky dome enclosing the facility left her even more unsettled.
This was no mere rogue superhuman operation.
At some unknown point, Solomon had developed an entirely independent force.
"Did Stark help you with this?" she asked, feigning casual curiosity. She wasn't worried about Solomon suddenly turning on her—their past interactions had proven he was someone you could work with. Even if he was technically the leader of Hydra now, that fact hadn't changed.
"A little," Solomon admitted, shrugging. "But it was a fair trade—a tech exchange." He clicked his tongue in mild annoyance. "Honestly? I think he got the better end of the deal."
Stark's most significant contribution was replicating Asgardian force field generators. Now, all non-chainsaw weapons were equipped with them. However, Solomon had noticed that his artificial soldiers overwhelmingly preferred chainsaw weapons and large-caliber bolt guns. Only the few who had mastered swordsmanship chose force-field-enhanced blades.
Even with the modifications, Solomon was deeply dissatisfied with the Helicarriers.
So, he had ordered a complete overhaul of their metal armor.
The bottom-mounted super cannons were removed and replaced with side-mounted giant artillery guns. The rear and underside were redesigned as entry points for assault transport ships, while the server arrays were relocated elsewhere. He also planned to install three additional engines and a new reactor at the rear, enhancing the ships' mobility.
Solomon's vision was to transform the Helicarriers into aerial battleships—massive flying war machines capable of providing overwhelming aerial fire support.
Only one Helicarrier would be preserved in its original state to function as a mobile aircraft carrier for Quinjets and assault transports. Together, they would form a cohesive strike force.
The Quinjets were also slated for modifications, but Wakanda was a small nation with limited manpower. Even with all available resources, this wasn't a project that could be completed overnight.
And since Solomon's A.I. systems still needed time to learn how to build and maintain these vessels, the process would take a few months—which, by all standards, was incredibly fast.
Still, to Solomon, it felt too slow.
The final versions of these warships would feature:
✔ Artificial gravity
✔ Vacuum launch bays
✔ Large-scale unidirectional electromagnetic shields
Without these upgrades, they couldn't function as spacefaring vessels.
Once the battleships were ready, Solomon already had a purpose for them—he would never let them sit idle.
Pillaging was the path to expansion.
Solomon's strategy was inspired by Europe's war-driven capitalism—using conflict as a means to seize resources and technology, fueling a continuous cycle of progress.
There were plenty of unlucky targets in space.
His plan? Find the richest one on the star map and strike hard.
---
"What about the crew?" Romanoff asked, carefully watching Solomon's reaction.
She already had a pretty good idea of the answer.
After all, she had personally witnessed Solomon execute Alexander Pierce.
Given his ruthlessness, she suspected those Hydra operatives were as good as dead.
But to her surprise, Solomon simply pointed toward the other side of the factory.
Curious, she walked over and saw them.
Regardless of their status, all crew members wore identical work uniforms. Their heads were shaved clean, and they sweated profusely as they worked.
They were cleaning the Helicarriers, scrubbing bloodstains and corpses off the decks.
Romanoff took a step forward, but Solomon stopped her.
"Until they complete their labor reform, they are not allowed to communicate with outsiders."
He spoke with a calm, authoritative tone.
"Every evening, they receive lectures about my ideals and are encouraged to reflect on their past mistakes.
"It's quite effective—most of them were just low-level Hydra operatives, not true believers. Even among the mid-level ranks, many were simply brainwashed by Hydra's so-called mission.
"So, I broke the lie.
"I let them speak to each other as equals and feed them a greater cause—a higher purpose.
"They are in the early stages of forming an information cocoon, and I'd rather you not disrupt their progress."
"Do you even realize what this means?"
"If one day Captain America decides to come after me with everything he has, I'd say that's fair," Solomon chuckled, his expression full of mischief.
"But first, I'll ask him to take a look at America's private prison system."
Romanoff narrowed her eyes.
"Even if he views this purely from a humanitarian standpoint, I'll have the perfect argument to shut down American hypocrisy.
"Now, are you sure you don't want to join my plan?
"Would you like to hear the first step?"
Romanoff hesitated for a moment, then arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow.
"Go on. Who's your target?"
Solomon stuffed his hands into his pockets, adopting the casual stance of any ordinary young man loitering on the street—except he was too tall, forcing Romanoff to tilt her head up just to look at him.
"I think I'll start as a space pirate."
He grinned.
"Nothing builds wealth faster than plundering, don't you think?"
Then, his tone grew serious.
"I want you to talk to Nick Fury.
"We need medical personnel aboard the fleet.
"And I know you can get in touch with him."
Solomon was acutely aware of his severe manpower shortage.
He didn't trust Wakanda to operate all of his ships.
After discussing it with Tita (or rather, making a one-sided decision since she always agreed with him), he had decided to temporarily increase the number of artificial soldiers using Philosopher's Stones—at least until he could secure a stable source of recruits.
These new artificial soldiers would remain in extended stasis, experiencing simulated combat and life training in dreams.
By the time they stepped out of their incubation chambers, they would be battle-ready.
Still, he needed more people—desperately.
And he was hunting for talent everywhere.
The young scientists who had fled S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy were another potential source.
But after visiting the ruined academy, Solomon had lost all hope.
Most of the students hadn't even fought back.
Many had been shot in the back.
Their bodies had been carelessly buried, and no one had mourned them—except for Commander Gonzalez and Agent Weaver.
"I need people, Natasha.
"Heroic individuals won't be enough.
"For the future of humanity, everyone must contribute."
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