In the months that followed, Solomon lived a relatively normal life.
Here, "normal" meant balancing school and work simultaneously—not relying on alchemical simulations.
The Eternal City's main focus was now on absorbing and consolidating the Italian Mafia's power. Solomon had handed full responsibility for this to Stephanie and Constantine. Aside from occasionally participating in the development of laser technology with Tony Stark and Malbus, he finally had time to attend school in person and begin preliminary research on his own Gauss weapon project. Solomon was quite certain that Mycroft Holmes was monitoring him through Oxford's surveillance systems, and he didn't mind showcasing his research to the Cabinet Secretary. Solomon knew Mycroft would definitely investigate the lab, and Mycroft knew Solomon wouldn't store any real research results there—but the Cabinet Secretary still had to ensure this advanced technology wouldn't be stolen. This meant he had to send people to infiltrate Solomon's lab and monitor its progress to ensure the project's success.
As for who truly ruled Britain, Mycroft Holmes was among the minority who believed that real power lay at 10 Downing Street—not with the U.S. White House, Congress, or the Council on Foreign Relations. He was eager for Solomon to hand over some of his technological achievements, though he also knew that was unlikely. In any case, toying with the Cabinet Secretary was quite amusing for Solomon. So much so that he even found the mood to drink with political economy students and rebuild his long-neglected social network. He even reconnected with Lady Amelia Windsor, whom he'd only met once.
Of course, all this was done just to provoke Mycroft. Solomon had absolutely no interest in Lady Windsor.
During this time, Lara Croft also paid a visit to Oxford.
With London's social season approaching in April, this noblewoman's recent findings in the Middle East had made the front pages of London tabloids. Compared to her two previous absurd expeditions, this time she had returned with actual artifacts. The tabloids had shifted their title for her from "Mad Archaeologist" to "Distinguished Archaeologist." Lara told Solomon that she wished to follow in her father's footsteps and asked him to fund her next expedition to South America.
"When have I ever refused you, dear Lara? Your work honors all of human history—excavating secrets buried in the soil. Though some of it may not be suitable for public viewing, I'm deeply grateful for everything you've done," Solomon said with great satisfaction at her ambition. He received her in the manor's parlor and picked a bottle of wine from his cellar. He had long awaited this day. Before Ragnarök, he had to deal with this matter. Father Moru's prophetic dream had pointed to what he must do, and he would fulfill that fated task—having witnessed the radiance of the Stigmata with his own eyes, the drunken priest's visions held a certain credibility. Combined with the prophecies of the Kamar-Taj magi, all signs pointed Solomon toward action.
"Take some high-tech gear with you. I have a feeling this expedition won't go smoothly."
"I still have a lot of the weapons you gave me last time. As agreed, I'll be placing the artifacts in a museum."
"In the museum I built for you, Lara. Though it's not completed yet—British workers are terribly lazy, and those refugees would rather live off welfare than work," Solomon said as he took a document from an artificial human and handed it to the archaeologist. "The Croft Family Museum. No need to use my name—I don't like fame. Once it's finished, you can fill it with everything you discover during your explorations. With this private museum in London, the city's high society will address you as Lady Croft with proper reverence. You've always wanted to vindicate Sir Richard Croft—I think this is the perfect opportunity."
Lara's face lit up with joy. "That's an incredibly generous gift."
"Compared to what you've given me, a museum is nothing. Cheers!"
"Cheers… Whoa! Why is this wine so sour?"
"Because it's monastic wine—nearly two thousand years old, with a certification report. You can take some with you and put it in the museum. I'm sure many rich people would pay a fortune just to taste it. And they'll have to pretend not to gag, without admitting it tastes terrible."
"Brilliant idea!" Lara grinned mischievously. The social season was full of gossip, and the tabloids thrived on stories fed by those who had once known the Croft family and betrayed Sir Richard Croft's friendship. The bottle of wine Solomon had gifted her was perfect for embarrassing those people without burning bridges—just enough to dent their fragile pride, kept alive with money, hair transplants, and cosmetic surgery.
"I can't wait!"
"Me neither."
After Lara Croft left, Solomon immediately called Malbus.
"Service the power armor," he said. "Prepare for war."
"It's only been a few months, and we're going to war again?" Stephanie quickly caught up with Solomon, her high heels clicking sharply on the marble floor. She wore her usual business suit, arms full of documents. "Who's the enemy?" she asked. "It can't be any real-world force—we're already well underway with our campaign to tame Italy!"
"It's a god," Solomon replied. This corridor connected Stephanie's Internal Affairs office with Solomon's. He wasn't worried about being overheard. "According to Kamar-Taj's observations of the Aetheric currents and a priest's prophetic dream, we've found the enemy," he said. "A god who once fed on blood sacrifice, endlessly reincarnated and reborn. Don't let the title scare you—we've killed gods before."
"I'm not worried about so-called deities—I'm worried about our fleet. It'll take time to reach South America. The First Fimbul Secret Battalion is still dealing with Trinity's remnants. They probably don't have the strength to interfere with Lara Croft."
"Have you ever seen a war begin instantly? We still have time. Handle the logistics as usual, and order our satellites to scan the South American rainforest." Solomon continued walking. "Secret societies can never be fully eradicated—you of all people should know that. Cut off one head, two more grow back."
"How long do we have?" Stephanie asked.
"A few months." Constantine stood ahead, one hand on a weapon, the other holding a scroll from Kamar-Taj. Solomon took it and kept walking toward his office. This hallway had many rooms used by clerks handling classified materials and liaison officers from the intelligence department. Through them, Solomon could manipulate satellites, fleets, and all departments of the Eternal City at will.
"Snakes, rain, floods—none of these are good omens," Constantine said, pointing at the vague prophecy on the parchment. "We've already detected seismic activity. We're trying to determine the epicenter. If Father Moru's guess is correct, these signs point to the imminent resurrection of the Feathered Serpent."
"Lara Croft will be the one to dig it up."
"She's already on your private jet," Constantine said. "And she's carrying a teleport beacon."
"Good." Solomon stopped before the office door and turned to face Stephanie and Constantine. "Ladies and gentlemen, it's time to kill another god."
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