"What is that?" General Hale asked, pointing at Ruby's waist.
Ever since Ruby had returned from the White House, she had gone straight to her room in the training camp without a word. She seemed like a different person—she didn't even go looking for her favorite snacks, which was always her first move. At first, General Hale thought it was just a case of teenage mood swings. That changed when she saw Ruby pull from her carry-on a folding long hunting knife, a large-caliber pistol, and a silent folding crossbow, all of which she strapped to her waist. Each weapon was decorated with intricate brass detailing and engravings, steeped in steampunk aesthetics—but that was only a facade to mask the true technological sophistication of these tools.
The hunting knife was forged using advanced Martian metallurgy and equipped with a miniature motor in the shaft, allowing it to snap open instantly. The pistol featured a shock-absorbing grip and was capable of firing specialized .50 explosive rounds in rapid succession. The silent folding crossbow served not only for mid-range assassinations, but could also fire high-tensile carbon-fiber cables connected to motors for three-dimensional maneuvering, enabling the user to cross obstacles or even rappel from great heights.
Inside the case was also a set of clothes—but not for covert operations. It was a black evening dress.
"It's a gift, Mom," Ruby answered with a smile. She already knew how to use these things; they were tools for the missions ahead. Solomon had previously given her the hunting knife and the pistol. Once she'd become familiar with how to handle them, she was able to use this custom-made arsenal with lightning-fast proficiency. She clipped the weapons to a specially designed tactical belt on her waist. "I think it's time I joined some projects. I'm sure Malick already spoke with you," she said. "Whitehall is dead. I saw his brain. The master of the Eternal City believes I shouldn't be left idle. That's the only way I'll be qualified for even harder work in the future."
General Hale stared into Ruby's eyes, holding her gaze until Ruby started to look uncomfortable. Then she nodded slowly.
"Ruby, you need to understand—I'm the only one in this world who truly has your best interests at heart," General Hale said with a sigh. "Cooperating with the Malick family is just mutual exploitation. I didn't expect there to be an even greater organization behind them, but that doesn't mean we owe them anything. This is cooperation, Ruby. And cooperation means using each other."
"I know," Ruby said. "Limited cooperation."
"No, you don't understand." General Hale looked into her eyes, pressing her lips together. The wrinkles around her mouth were pronounced. Her hair was tightly coiled into a bun, and the skin around her eyes was pulled upward, giving her a stern, rigid appearance—the result of years in the military and part of her usual demeanor. But then her expression softened into something more natural, the kind of look she used when speaking with family.
General Hale had blonde hair, while Ruby's was an almost platinum white. In Hale's mind, Ruby was her most precious treasure. Even though Ruby's conception hadn't been voluntary, she was still her daughter, and no one was going to take her away. Over the years, General Hale had stopped wanting to hand Ruby over to Whitehall, let alone this Eternal City she'd only recently learned of. "The Eternal City—or more precisely, its mysterious master—is powerful. That's what I've learned through secret channels. He hasn't shown us his full hand." She gently stroked Ruby's silky hair. Ruby didn't respond. She simply sat silently on the bed, playing with her hunting knife.
She had learned from the intelligence division about what happened at Mount Finbowent. All the reconnaissance satellites pointed at Finbowent that day were knocked out of the sky by an unknown force. Even so, an employee from ExxonMobil on vacation had managed to snap a photo. Although extremely blurry, the subject's general outline was still distinguishable. But the terrifying part was what happened afterward: the photo vanished from the archives, and the agent who retrieved it died alone in the intel room—cause of death: asphyxiation. That unsettled General Hale even more. She couldn't comprehend what the thing in the photo was. She immediately deleted the photo and disposed of the computer, terrified that some horror might befall her and Ruby. But nothing happened. Still, the unease lingered.
"We need to be cautious. If we're not, he'll squeeze every bit of value out of us," General Hale said solemnly. "Ruby, do you know what it means when someone has no value?"
"Death," Ruby replied without hesitation.
It was a lesson drilled into her since childhood. In fact, the concept of "value" had been planted in her mind even before she fully understood death. And even earlier than value and death was obedience—obedience to superiors, to her mother, to power. It was a hierarchy that grew stronger over time. Just like Stephanie, Ruby was a product of Hydra, and both understood what value and obedience meant. More importantly, they knew that power always took precedence.
Stephanie's confidence in Ruby came from Hydra's fundamental survival doctrine: power is everything. Just as Solomon stormed into the Malick estate and took control through armed force, that wasn't something shameful—it was an honor. The Malick family was valuable, so Solomon had gone to any lengths to subjugate them. To the Malick family and all traditional Hydra members, that was a compliment. Gideon Malick had even begun writing a memoir, meant for the future generations of the Malick family, recounting the story of Solomon and their family—though in his version, Solomon and Stephanie had a child together, and the book was written for that child.
Ruby also obeyed power, and power came from only one person—
That omnipresent figure, that solemn and awe-inspiring being.
"That's right," General Hale said. "Everything I've done has been to keep us alive, Ruby."
"I understand, Mom. I'll be careful around those people. Don't worry."
"Good." General Hale glanced around Ruby's room. There weren't many items that marked this as a teenage girl's space. That made her feel a pang of guilt—she had originally raised Ruby as a tool. Even after her thinking had changed, work kept her from caring for Ruby's daily life. Most of her energy had gone into Ruby's education. "Maybe you want a record player or a game console?" General Hale offered. "At least working with the Eternal City has one benefit—the investigation into me is over. We can relax for a bit."
"What's the contingency plan?"
"My Lord, I've already arranged for an assassin to infiltrate the training camp before General Hale and Ruby returned," Stephanie said. "The camp's surveillance is now under our information security team. My Lord, do you really need to worry about General Hale? Even if Ruby turns against us, she won't know the true location of the Eternal City, much less your identity."
"Let me put it this way, Stephanie," Solomon replied. "General Hale is connected to our planned war on the moon. No, she's not an Inhuman spy. She has no direct connection to the Inhumans. She's linked to another race—one we are absolutely certain to face when dealing with the Inhumans: the Kree."
Stephanie raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"But she's not a Kree spy either—not at all," Solomon continued. "I genuinely admire her. That's the truth. She may not be as smart as us, but she has always remained loyal to humanity."
My bad—the Dyson Sphere is just too much fun.
(End of Chapter)
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