The alloy walls of the space station were smeared with splashes of blood, pockmarked with explosive craters, and streaked with soot from partially burned flamethrower fuel. Tita stepped over the bisected corpse at her feet, ordering her troops forward. Though S.W.O.R.D.'s personnel wielded alien technology, they posed only minor trouble for the Sisterhood. Tita refused to call for reinforcements over something so trivial—battle raged not only inside the station but also in the void outside, where sky battleships and assault transports fired in unison to intercept shuttles escaping from hidden hangars. Brilliant plasma slashed brilliant blue lines across the blackness, and solid shells from the great cannons tore through vacuum with unimaginable force.
Laser weapons burst against the sky battleship's electromagnetic shields in dazzling flashes of light.
Another barrage from the heavy cannons tore apart the concealed defenses of the station, venting its atmosphere into space. Escape shuttles and pods, launched per protocol, were shredded by concentrated barrages. Shards of metal, alien limbs, and human body parts became high-velocity debris drifting through the void.
Once Nick Fury realized Solomon would never abandon the S.W.O.R.D. station, he activated hidden defensive forces in an attempt to retake the base. But Solomon knew his tricks too well—every armed personnel Solomon had sent aboard was already on high alert and had fortified their positions with prefabricated defenses. The moment the sealed doors burst open and Fury's troops surged out, the Sisterhood struck mercilessly. Chainswords and explosive rounds cleared hallway after hallway, the mingled blood of humans and aliens forming a nauseating stench that permeated the administrative sector of the station.
They advanced steadily, targeting the central power hub, and the intensity of combat escalated.
Veteran Sisterhood soldiers—survivors of the Fenbowent campaign—pressed forward with chilling calm. Compared to the horrors they had previously faced, these high-tech armored soldiers were laughably fragile. Their coordination was flawless; they neutralized resistance with swift tactical precision while minimizing damage to critical systems. Even when S.W.O.R.D. soldiers used the station's layout to fight back, the Sisterhood crushed them with lasers and explosives.
Tatiana pressed her back to a metal wall, eyes fixed on the countdown timer in her helmet's HUD. When the timer hit zero, a wave of flame—like a dragon's breath—engulfed the combat zone. After the explosion, she charged from cover, leading her squad into the inferno, chainsword revving and explosive gunfire roaring as they plunged into the fray like wild bulls. The heavy weapons team, previously locked in a firefight, ceased fire exactly on cue to avoid friendly casualties, then pivoted down another corridor to support a different assault squad.
Some S.W.O.R.D. troops surrendered on the spot. The Sisterhood's blood-soaked, feral combat style bred terror in all who faced them. Being shot was one thing—being ripped apart by a chainsword or immolated by a flamethrower was another entirely. They wielded every cruel tool of modern warfare without hesitation.
Handcuffed, Nick Fury followed Solomon and the escort squad through the scorched remnants of the station. The floor trembled beneath them, the air thick with smoke and chemical stench. Blood-red emergency lights flickered violently in the haze, and in the nausea-inducing glow, he saw dazed S.W.O.R.D. soldiers lying across charred corpses, groaning weakly. The sight made the old veteran—once a soldier in Vietnam—draw a sharp breath. Compared to this, Solomon's earlier methods seemed almost gentle.
"You couldn't even withstand my attack. Don't you dare claim your agency can handle alien invasions or supernatural threats," Solomon said quietly. "That's always been your problem. You think you can solve everything—but the future is far more terrifying than you imagine. You're powerless, Nick Fury. The human prisoners will be vetted and trained. The Skrulls will be locked away. That's all the mercy they'll get."
"You always think your path is the right one. Tell me—how do you know it won't make things worse?"
"I know," the sorcerer replied, "because I've seen it. And you'll see how right I am."
"I only see a world drowning in blood because of your ambition." Fury laughed bitterly, saying no more. The roles had clearly reversed. Solomon now commanded forces capable of launching space assaults, while Fury was stuck reliving the destruction of S.H.I.E.L.D. Yet his laughter was tinged with sarcasm, as if to say, Now you're the monster you feared I'd become.
Solomon hadn't originally planned to seize the station. But the Skrull infiltration had grown too severe, forcing his hand. He was now executing the preemptive stage of his Atillan Inhuman War contingency—a long-feared scenario. He knew Earth's connection to the Skrull mythos. According to their legends, Earth was destined to be the site of Skrull resurgence. These green-skinned parasites had always coveted the planet. Some even believed humanity should be eradicated from Earth altogether.
This was the so-called "Secret War": the covert manipulation of Earth's governments to provoke human-on-human conflict, creating opportunities for Skrull colonization.
Solomon had always been vigilant against this possibility. The moment a hint of such a scenario emerged, he acted immediately. Even if more diplomatic options existed, he had no time left to waste. Every Skrull needed to be interrogated, and their plans unveiled.
If it was all just paranoia, he would make the most of their abilities.
He hadn't forgotten those Skrulls who followed Carol Danvers across the galaxy, parasitically nesting wherever they could. Eventually, they'd come to Earth, demanding "peaceful coexistence." But it wasn't humans who destroyed their homeworld—humanity owed them nothing. Solomon could already envision the wave of bleeding-heart idealists calling for humanity to embrace these parasites.
If allowed on Earth's stage, a covert takeover would be inevitable. Neighboring civilizations had already paid the bloody price for the Skrulls' manipulation after their homeworld's destruction. Solomon had learned from their failures.
He wouldn't believe a single word from any Skrull preaching peace.
Even the Kree were more trustworthy—at least they had honor.
As he had said before, Nick Fury broke his promise. So Solomon would handle this his way. When the alien fleets arrived in the solar system, who knew how many of Fury's pet Skrulls would betray Earth and seize control?
Solomon and the prisoners boarded separate assault transports. Before the hangar bay doors opened, he turned to Ola.
"Bring Stephanie and her administrative team here. I want full control of this station."
"Yes, my lord!" Ola replied. "I believe Lady Tita will complete the operation in under two hours."
"I care more about your lives than this station," Solomon said. "Tell Tita not to be reckless. I won't sacrifice her or her warriors for an orbital facility."
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