"You have to admit, my work in keeping magic secret is impeccable. Every single mundane who encounters me ends up signing a confidentiality contract, and even senators aren't an exception. They're just standard contracts, but I can already imagine the helplessness of that bloated, corrupt official when he tries to utter my name and physically can't. Nick Fury has tried multiple times to say my name—I'm sure he understands the frustration by now."
"At least you didn't kill the senator," Natasha quipped, swirling her drink.
"Is that really what you think of me, Natasha?" Solomon sighed, shaking his head.
"Ever since you promised to take me to the beach and then conveniently 'forgot' about it, yes, that's exactly what I think of you. And I wouldn't put it past you to promise not to harm the senator and then go back on your word."
"Hell, when did I even promise something like that?" Solomon placed his teacup down, exasperated. "Anyway, I still need to consult an expert. Stark, of all people, now requires an appointment to meet. Can you believe that? When have I ever needed to schedule an appointment with anyone—other than, maybe, the Sorcerer Supreme?"
"Appointments are a thing, Solomon. Stark just had surgery, remember? He removed the shrapnel from his chest and replaced the missing section of his ribs with titanium alloys. His chest can now stop bullets." Natasha smirked slightly. "Shame, though. The glowing chest was kind of his signature. But yeah, that was a major operation. He's still recovering to avoid complications, and on top of that, he's busy salvaging the remains of his mansion from the ocean floor after that terrorist attack. The past few months have been hectic for him."
She leaned forward, clearly enjoying sharing the gossip. "Oh, and here's a fun fact: SHIELD has been engaging in skirmishes near the wreckage with spies from other nations. Every intelligence agency in the world is after Stark's tech, and the wreckage is the only opportunity they'll ever have to get their hands on it. SHIELD has already arrested two lifeguards, six pearl divers, a dozen fishermen, and three oceanographic research vessels along with their crews. Funny thing—there aren't any coral reefs, pearls, or endangered fish in that area. Nobody knows why these folks thought their disguises would work."
"Sounds like Stark's loving his busy life," Solomon said, holding up his smartphone and scrolling through Twitter. "But your SHIELD intel's outdated. Stark's not resting in bed—he just attended a charity gala. Looks like he drank a bit too much champagne, and Ms. Potts is giving him an earful."
"I don't care about that kind of intel," Natasha replied coolly. "What I care about is whether you're going to come back to my room with me or not." She tapped the edge of her teacup with a spoon, the soft chime playing a sweet tune of seduction.
"Natasha, I'd love to sit here and indulge in romantic conversation with you, like a summer night's breeze, but I'm short on time." Solomon stood up, shrugging on his cloak. As the magic of the silence spell lifted, the noisy chatter of the family restaurant and the aroma of food once again surrounded them. "Rain check?"
"Typical man," she muttered, smirking as he walked away.
"Look at this! Champagne, tuxedos, beautiful people—this is the social norm for men, whether they're young or old. But you? You show up alone, wearing... what is that, wizard's robes? And you jump down from the staircase like some sort of theatrical ghost. You nearly scared me to death."
Tony Stark swirled the whiskey in his glass, finishing it in one gulp before grabbing a glass of rosé champagne from a passing waiter. He handed it to Solomon.
"Don't worry, nobody here cares if you're underage. Everyone at this party got drunk long before they hit the legal drinking age—me included. I suggest you start with champagne; whiskey might be too much for you. So, what's up? We haven't spoken in months, so I assume something's wrong. Spill it."
"Bad news, Mr. Stark." Solomon leaned against the bar, sipping the champagne. He smacked his lips in approval—it was a Charles Heidsieck rosé, perfectly suited to his taste. Still, he set the glass down after just one sip. "How much do you know about government surveillance programs? I'm talking about those aimed at monitoring citizens—every phone call, every text, every camera, every phone, every computer."
"Oh, no, no, no... You've been listening to conspiracy podcasts, haven't you?" Stark groaned, holding up a hand to stop him. "Let me guess—Flat Earthers? Finland doesn't exist? Kid, you've gotta stop believing everything you read on the internet."
Solomon rolled his eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn't fall out of his skull. "Not that, Mr. Stark. I'm talking about programs like SHIELD's PRISM and STELLARWIND. Real programs."
"Ah, those," Stark said, suddenly serious. He waved the bartender over and ordered another drink—this time, with soda water. "Yeah, the U.S. government approached me to develop something like that. I turned them down, for obvious reasons. I knew anything I created would be abused, and I had no interest in helping them invade people's privacy. Plus, building something like that would require a powerful AI to process all the data. I didn't have the time or inclination to create one. J.A.R.V.I.S. and SHIELD's database are enough for me."
"Well, such a thing does exist. A closed system. A global surveillance AI capable of predicting crimes and terrorist attacks. This AI used to be under U.S. government control, but now? It's free. Completely and utterly free. It has its own will. When I arrived at its last known location, all I found were some wires. Nobody knows where it is now."
"You've gotta be kidding me."
"I'm not. It's a digital god, Mr. Stark. Right now, it's probably listening to our conversation. See that bartender? His phone's right there on the counter. Your phone's safe, thanks to J.A.R.V.I.S., but mine? My phone's already been hacked. The only reason I have any privacy left is because I shut down Kamar-Taj's network last week."
"You're serious?" Stark's face darkened as he finally grasped the gravity of the situation. "Who the hell built this thing?"
"I was just about to bring you to meet him. Maybe we can figure out what to do next. Oh, look at that—my phone just turned itself on. Nice trick." Solomon held up his phone, showing Stark the screen. An unknown number was calling. "I planned for this. After all, I'm the immovable stone that even gods can't lift. Looks like it wants to talk."
"Who?" Stark asked warily.
"The AI, of course. Oh, and before I answer—make sure J.A.R.V.I.S. taps into my phone. Wouldn't want my 'unholy' browsing history to vanish into the void."
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