Even clad in armor, Solomon found Thor's hearty backslaps almost unbearable, as if being struck by a blunt instrument. He barely kept the air in his lungs as Thor pounded him, the Asgardian's enthusiasm unchecked. Off to the side, Loki watched with an amused smirk. He believed Solomon now had a taste of what it felt like to endure a thousand and five hundred years of Thor's heavy-handed affections. As always, his brother was exuberantly careless—something not even a Frost Giant could easily withstand.
"Solomon," came Nick Fury's voice through the earpiece as the mage finally wriggled free of Thor's embrace. "You need to talk to Pierce—he's a Security Council official and is heading up to Stark Tower in the elevator. You don't have to say much; he's one of us, an old boss of mine. While he's unhappy that I've withheld information about you, I think you can manage a conversation with him."
"No." Solomon refused without hesitation, signaling Pegasus to descend from the balcony. "Since when have I ever had the patience for bureaucrats?" he said. "And by the way, we're still not done talking about that nuke."
"Speaking of which," Fury asked, "where did you send it? The World Security Council has lost track of it entirely, and you wouldn't believe the chaos it's causing. I know you used a portal, but there's no sign of a detonation—not on satellite scans or seismic readings."
"It exploded already," Solomon replied nonchalantly, grabbing Pegasus's golden reins and pulling the horse away from Natasha Romanoff. The troublesome steed seemed intent on licking her, and while Natasha didn't seem to mind—in fact, she seemed amused—Solomon decided it was time for Pegasus to learn some discipline.
"Yeah, right. I don't buy it, but we'll let the nuke issue slide for now. You've never let me down before," Fury said. "Pierce just wants to chat. He knows nothing about you, and because of your contract, I can't reveal anything myself. Just tell him some basic stuff—like whether or not you have family."
"I can only tell him I don't know who my father is, and my mother died giving birth to me."
The words piqued Natasha's curiosity. She reached out to touch Solomon's newly cropped hair, trying to piece together a clearer picture of his mysterious background. But Solomon shook his head, pulling away. He had already found his family and had no intention of revealing too much. "Actually," he told Fury, "I do have a nanny. Maybe Pierce would be interested in meeting her."
"You've got living relatives?" Fury sounded genuinely surprised. "That's great. Just mention that!"
"Sure. My nanny has a beard, and I fed her a bundle of grass this morning."
"That's a goddamn goat, you little punk!"
"That's all I can offer. If your boss wants more, I can teach him how to milk her," Solomon quipped, quickly removing the earpiece and tossing it back to Romanoff before Fury's shouting could grow unbearable. Sliding his mask back on, he reverted to his stoic knightly demeanor.
Natasha, unbothered by his theatrics, smirked. "I've never seen anyone leave Fury at a loss for words before. You're the first."
"You haven't seen enough," Solomon replied, the faint sound of his neck armor shifting as he moved.
"I've seen plenty."
"Then I hope you won't share my information, ma'am," Solomon said. "I trust you can keep it to yourself."
"Keeping secrets is what I do best," Natasha said, narrowing her eyes. "But what's in it for me?"
"Your wish," Solomon replied with a knowing wink—though it was hidden beneath his helmet. A quiet alliance was forged between them. "I just hope Stark hurries up. Pegasus is hungry, and so am I. Let's hope the barbecue place allows horses."
Pegasus whinnied in agreement, clearly pleased with the plan.
"I'll check on the boys and see how they're doing," Natasha said as she departed. "Hopefully, I won't end up cleaning up after them."
Once she left, Solomon nodded toward the people hiding behind the bar before leading his horse toward the stairwell. His work here was done.
"Damn, I look good on camera," Solomon remarked, lounging on a sofa with a cold soda in hand. He had shed his armor and even his ceremonial mage robes, now dressed in an oversized, sheep-patterned pajama set. Flipping through TV channels with a remote, he wasn't surprised to find every network broadcasting coverage of the Battle of New York—now the biggest story worldwide.
"You should count yourself lucky they didn't send more nukes, kid," Bayonetta said, seated beside him. Her scent—a mix of perfume and danger—filled the air as she lazily spooned kiwi and orange slices from a bowl. Jeanne sat further away on the other side of the couch, visibly displeased.
Though Manhattan had borne the brunt of the attack, Bayonetta's apartment remained unscathed, as did Mount Athena. The orphans there had seen the golden pillar of light from a distance, but to them, the alien beasts were no more than specks. Jeanne, however, was irritated, believing Solomon had robbed her of a chance to showcase her prowess.
"You should be grateful I didn't let you join in," Solomon said, opening his mouth as Bayonetta fed him a spoonful of orange. "You've no idea how annoying politicians are. I didn't have much magic left, but I could still handle a few irritating fools. Oh, look—there's one on TV now."
"I think the superheroes should be held accountable for this disaster," a congressman declared on-screen.
"See? That's why I hate constitutional democracies," Solomon sneered, tossing the remote aside. "Any idiot can voice their nonsense. The Sorcerer Supreme has made them feel far too safe."
On the news, a clip showed Solomon in his armor, punching the congressman square in the face with inhuman speed. For dramatic effect—or perhaps to emphasize the severity of his actions—the footage was slowed down, showing the man's face distorting under the impact.
"Congressman West suffered a fractured cheekbone... His family plans to sue the knight, but S.H.I.E.L.D. has refused to disclose his identity..."
"Maybe I hit him too hard," Solomon mused. "If I hadn't held back my magic, he'd be dead. Jeanne, you'd have just shot him, wouldn't you?"
Jeanne rolled her eyes, silently agreeing.
"And then?" Bayonetta asked, curious.
"Then I ditched the media—you know how insufferable they are. Afterward, I joined the team for dinner... but that barbecue was awful. Only Thor seemed to enjoy it. Most of it went to Pegasus, and by the time I got back to Kamar-Taj, the Sorcerer Supreme had finished all the roast beef and even drank my orange soda!"
"Experts speculate the knight may be none other than the legendary King Arthur," the news anchor continued. "The declaration has sparked independence marches in Northern Ireland and Scotland. Protesters claim they're welcoming the return of their rightful king and denounce the Windsor family as usurpers..."
"Are you going to be a king?" Bayonetta teased, raising an eyebrow and setting her fruit bowl aside.
"Of course."
"Kings need heirs, you know... Oh! You're blushing—how adorable!"
_________________________
just head over to https://www.patreon.com/Mutter/redeem/4DCCA to get 1 month of free membership and enjoy tons of advanced chapters from the novel!