Once everything was temporarily settled, Solomon slipped into a state that could best be described as laziness. He had scarcely enjoyed such moments in his life—times when he wanted to do nothing, say nothing, and simply lie there, wasting time. Of course, this was merely his personal illusion; to the outside world, he still appeared to maintain an intense work schedule. Only a few individuals knew what was truly consuming so much of the monarch's energy. They had witnessed firsthand how Solomon, Maya Hansen, and Malbus led the biological laboratories through a high-intensity period of research and development. Using the Time Stone and a steady supply of slaves captured during combat, they repeatedly tested and failed until they developed gene- and tech-based procedures for assassin augmentation that could only be described as inhumane. Originally, this was one of the long-term projects of the bio-lab, and the biotic druids and genetic scientists had amassed a vast trove of data. But because of urgent needs, Solomon had to personally resolve issues in genetic alchemy and fill in the final critical gap for the project.
That gap was time—something everyone lacked.
Solomon discarded his blood-stained rubber gloves and declared the experiment complete before a grotesque humanoid on the operating table, its body sliced open like a fish, reeking of charred flesh, and covered in hundreds of stitched wounds. Under the surgical lights, Guard Zero was reminded of something else.
The Assassin Program was not entirely conducted on Earth. To find weapons that could maximize the assassins' killing potential, Malbus had identified a location: a planet bearing clear signs of artificial modification. Its inhabitants had once possessed an astonishingly advanced civilization, but now the planet was nothing more than a wasteland of shattered rings and crimson deserts. Shipwrecks lay scattered across the land, fueling fires that had burned for millennia. Pale phantoms roamed the ruins of once-towering modular structures, and intense radiation saturated every grain of sand. Gray clouds replaced once-clear skies but could not block the dying star's glare. The once-proud alien civilization had degenerated into superstitious, ignorant tribalism, their history buried beneath iron-rich red sand.
When Solomon and Guard Zero arrived on the planet, the aliens had long since splintered into warring tribes. They wielded broken high-tech weapons from the old world, donned tattered power armor, and had no understanding of maintenance or reproduction. Sorcery and ignorance loomed over the land like a curse, and artificial auroras danced across the sky. Former libraries had become sacrificial altars; aliens knelt and danced around grotesque bone-crafted symbols, burning anything pungent to create smoke. As the Eternal City grew in power, Guard Zero had seen the monarch don his robe less and less—but that day, Solomon wore his sacred shroud, darker than the iron-rich desert itself, a flame walking atop dust.
Brilliant gold and silver shimmered in his robes, powerful magical items dangled from his wrists. The dying sun's light chased their shadows across the ground, and three irregular moons loomed overhead like bloodshot eyes. As the red desert faded into darkness, it began to glow blue, like a sea filled with bioluminescent life.
This was the echo of a civilization, thought Guard Zero, gazing at the haunting beauty.
Solomon patiently explained the planet's downfall. "A civil war. These aliens worshipped dark gods. Even with their powerful science, they couldn't eliminate the cancer within their civilization—religion. Every scientist was a creationist, something we find unimaginable. But it's understandable here, because sorcery had long been embedded into the bloodline of this civilization. Wizards and scientists held equal status," he said. "It's no surprise that with powerful tech, darkness incited hatred. Knowledge was used to wipe out cities. Swords were turned against their own kin. That's the saddest end for any civilization. When the survivors tried to rise again, Kamar-Taj sealed the planet within a mirror dimension—dark sorcery had entered their very genetic code and could never be purged."
"What about the moons?"
"The moons…" Solomon looked up, following Guard Zero's pointing finger. "Those are their industrial satellites, mining planets formed by aggregating asteroids. They're not bound by the planet's gravity. Each has its own engine. When their orbits bring them close to the sun, they activate stellar forges to produce specialized materials. With such technology, it's no wonder they once had such an advanced civilization."
"That doesn't add up," Guard Zero said.
"No, it doesn't. That's because the technology wasn't theirs originally. Someone gave it to them."
"Who?"
"The Celestials," Solomon replied with a shake of his head. "They need thriving civilizations—those abominable creatures feed on them. The Celestials' presence is recorded in Kamar-Taj's library and copied in the Eternal City's archives. You can read them with the proper clearance. We must not let Earth's people know about magic or the Celestials. Both pose existential threats to human independence. Religious and technological worship are equally fatal, but we must choose the lesser evil. The Celestials also create guardians to protect civilizations they nurture."
"Guardians?"
"You know I'm not an ordinary person, right?" Solomon shifted topics.
"No mortal possesses your wisdom and power, my lord."
"The Celestials create eternal guardians by fusing the souls of a species. I was created using the same method—only with a different source. The Eternals were made from tens of thousands of primitive humans. I was made from the most powerful sorcerers. That, and our creators, are the key differences."
"So where are the Eternals now?"
"If you've read The Journey of Myths as I suggested, you'd know that many Greek myths were later fabrications. But not all of them. Sometimes, two groups used the same names—the Olympians." Solomon smiled. "The Eternals and the Olympian gods made a pact. They walked among mortals under the names of gods. My adoptive mother was Athena, goddess of wisdom among the Olympians. That's how I know that history so well. That book was written by her—for mortal scholars to use as reference. Of course, as you know, we can never let mortals learn that the gods truly existed, not even if their divine status doesn't represent cosmic concepts."
He never answered the question directly.
At the glowing desert's edge lay the tribal settlement. As Solomon and Guard Zero approached, the tribe noticed their uninvited guests, their gleaming, metal-masked faces mechanically turning in unison. Guard Zero's enhanced vision picked out serrated, jagged scars around the masks. Their bloated, ulcerated blue flesh was riddled with twisted wounds, embedded with glowing sand particles. Tumors and deformities made their emaciated, ghoulish bodies sickening to behold. He suddenly realized a horrifying truth—those masks had likely been worn while still red-hot, perhaps as some sacred act of sacrifice. These warriors were short-lived, dying from infection or radiation.
Yet even as danger approached, these fallen ones didn't stop flaying the skins off prisoners from rival tribes or performing sacrifices. They draped symbol-covered hides over their armor, chanting the names of unknown gods and waving severed limbs fitted with crude prosthetics over fires of unrefined fuel. The stench of burning copper, iron, and flesh was unbearable. Guard Zero smelled a demonic presence stronger than the scent of burning bones or strange incense. He couldn't imagine what temperatures burned at the center of the rites. The smoke rising above was thick with the stench of liquefied fat. Disgusted, he opened fire. His explosive rounds tore apart a priest walking the ramparts, vaporizing bone and blood into crimson steam. The priest didn't even scream—his body had already been charred nearly dry by sorcerous flames.
"They're invoking the names of dark gods. If we fail, humanity's fate will be worse than these wretched beings," Solomon said. Guard Zero nodded solemnly. Unlike the fully sealed, force-feedback power armor he wore, Solomon carried neither armor nor sword—but even in the face of dark enemies and heavy radiation, he remained relaxed. Brilliant fire spirits burst from his fingertips in droves, sweeping over the low walls. Unknown massive weapons exploded under the assault. The camp suffered chain detonations, killing most of the savages who used munitions as currency and decoration. Many horrific weapons, poorly maintained, failed outright and were instead used as blunt instruments.
"This civilization is beyond saving. Let's deliver them mercy," Solomon said softly. "I hope they didn't burn their precious books—many dying civilizations do."
The assault was not as easy as Guard Zero had imagined.
The tribal shaman, their leader, wielded terrifying sorcery. It was the first time Guard Zero saw the monarch unleash magic without restraint. Pillars of fire and lightning engulfed the settlement. The irradiated desert surged like a beast, flooding toward the charging savages. The aliens screamed at the sight of falling snow—they had never seen rain in their lifetimes. Acid rain corroded nearly all metals, from composite weapons to crude iron blades.
The battle ended when Solomon gripped the fat shaman's neck like a pig. Guard Zero had just risen from the ground, dazed and disoriented. He saw nothing but corpses. His role was to block primitive warriors and give the monarch space to fight the shaman. That would be his duty in the future. He only heard the shaman's death scream, followed by a blast of light that lit the night sky. Something behind the veil of reality roared, trying to claw at Solomon—but he brushed away its aether tendrils like dust.
The whispers beyond the veil chilled him.
"Are these the enemies Kamar-Taj has always fought?" he asked.
"Yes. These are the enemies of civilization."
The commander of the Sisterhood, Tita, finally felt at ease—Solomon's security force now included the shadowy assassins. The atoners were only half-finished products; after killing their loved ones, they still had to undergo multiple surgical augmentations. The true Assassins—those fully transformed—came from traitors without families and underwent the most complete brainwashing to prevent any future betrayal. This policy had been strongly advocated by Guard Zero. He believed his own transformation was incomplete and couldn't yet fulfill his Royal Guard duties. Now, with fearless assassins, they could buy Solomon time to react. And if the monarch had time to react, nothing on Earth could threaten him.
"Do you still want to go on an African safari, hunting lions with spears and bows? I understand the need for personal hobbies, but now is not the time to travel alone," Guard Zero said, appearing more mature. His height and weight had increased with his surgeries. He had completed all the cultural courses Solomon assigned and was now studying the next phase. "I've already arranged a convoy. If you go out publicly, please take them with you. They can eliminate threats in under thirty seconds."
He handed Solomon a tablet showing a complex network of relationships and financial transactions. Solomon glanced at it and recognized the names instantly—he had seen them before and tried various means to acquire their assets. Seeing that the monarch had no intention of taking the steel-gray tablet (a product of the Eternal City itself), Guard Zero sighed quietly. "From what I know, your methods have upset the capitalists. Some have already traced certain clues. Not everything, but enough to stage an assassination along your usual routes. Take the assassins, at least to stop someone from planting anti-tank mines on the road. That would be... problematic."
"Mines? To scratch my ass?" Solomon quipped.
Tita shot him a displeased look.
"Please don't joke about personal safety, my lord," Guard Zero replied dryly. "Also, Dr. Hank Pym has sent a request to your personal terminal. He wants you to participate in a research project related to pocket dimensions."
"Let him play by himself. I don't want to do anything right now."
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I Am Zeus, KING OF GODS (Chapter 79)
Fairy Tail: Igneel's Eldest Son (Chapter 391)
I Am Thalos, Odin's Older Brother (Chapter 471)
Reborn in America's Anti-Terror Unit (Chapter 677)
Solomon in Marvel (Chapter 1059)
Becoming the Wealthiest Tycoon on the Planet (Chapter 1418)
Surgical Fruit in the American Comics Universe (Chapter 1422)
American Detective: From TV Rookie to Seasoned Cop (Chapter 1452)
American TV Writer (Chapter 1504)
I Am Hades, The Supreme GOD of the Underworld!(Chapter 570)
Reborn as Humanity's Emperor Across the Multiverse (Chapter 703)
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