Ernst vanished in a flash of magic, instantly leaving Prince Nuada and the dark, ruined cavern of the Golden Legion far behind.
He materialized in the opulent, wood-paneled study of his primary residence on Skull Island.
Kerry, Ernst's most trusted housekeeper and logistical manager, was already standing by the mahogany desk, as if he had been expecting him for hours.
"Master Ernst, welcome home," Kerry said with a crisp bow.
Even though he had been managing operations on an island filled with dinosaurs and mutants for years, Kerry maintained his impeccable, old-fashioned demeanor, dressed in a tailored three-piece suit.
Ernst walked straight to the desk and poured himself a glass of water.
"I assume the Red Queen has already briefed you on our new acquisitions. I've transmitted the entire dormant Golden Legion into Warehouse Zero."
"She did, sir," Kerry confirmed.
"I have already allocated the necessary resources and magical personnel. The retrofitting process will commence shortly. Our standard industrial output will remain unaffected."
"Excellent," Ernst nodded, taking a sip.
"I've always had the utmost confidence in your management, Kerry. Has anything noteworthy occurred during my brief absence?"
A slight hesitation flickered across Kerry's usually stoic face. It was a subtle tell, signaling that he had encountered something significant but was reluctant to bring it up.
Ernst caught it immediately. "Speak freely, Kerry. I am in good spirits. Give me the bad news."
"There is indeed a matter of concern," Kerry admitted, clearing his throat.
"Specifically, concerning Wakanda."
"Ah, Wakanda," Ernst smiled knowingly.
"Let me guess. The broader world has finally caught wind of Vibranium. It was only a matter of time."
"Exactly, sir," Kerry said, his tone growing serious.
"A few days ago, the Wakandan liaison we use for our private Vibranium mining quota approached me. He demanded more advanced technological exchanges for our continued access. His confidence was unusually high; he wasn't afraid of my refusal."
Kerry narrowed his eyes.
"Sensing a shift in leverage, I had our intelligence assets investigate. It turns out that a major foreign power, likely the CIA, has recently discovered the true value of Vibranium and is secretly reaching out to King. While the King initially refused them to honor our exclusive arrangement, he seems to be reconsidering. If the Americans offer a lucrative enough geopolitical deal, Wakanda might break our contract."
"I see," Ernst said, setting his glass down.
"So, what is your proposed countermeasure?"
Kerry's expression darkened. "Honestly, sir, I find the Wakandans a bit greedy. Despite the vast technological assistance we have provided them over the years, assistance that helped elevate an agrarian nation into one of the most advanced societies on Earth, their aggressive negotiating stance is irritating. I intend to deploy Azazel to teach their War Dogs a harsh lesson in humility."
"No, no, no," Ernst laughed softly, waving off Kerry's aggressive proposal.
"Kerry, there's no need for anger. The geopolitical game is just business. This was bound to happen. In reality, Vibranium is not as crucial to our immediate survival as it once was, given the massive reserves we've already stockpiled here on the island."
"But the strategic value of the metal is astronomical," Kerry argued.
"I'm not suggesting we give up our supply."
"We won't," Ernst assured him.
"I merely caution against overreacting. Initially, our dealings with Wakanda were purely transactional. While the technology we gave them was advanced by human standards, it was obsolete to us. We got what we needed. Now, it's simply about maximizing our leverage."
Ernst walked around the desk. "Their sudden awareness of their own leverage stems from the belief that they hold a monopoly on something we desperately need. They want a better deal. So, we give them a better deal. If we possess something they cannot live without, we control their fate, and we negotiate from a position of absolute strength, rather than just trading blueprints for dirt."
Kerry still looked uneasy. "Master Ernst, are you suggesting we exchange technology far beyond our current era with Wakanda? Giving them access to the Red Queen's core data seems far too favorable for them. There's no need for such generosity."
Ernst smiled, a hint of genuine cunning in his eyes.
"Indeed, it isn't generosity. It is a leash. This is my preparation for them."
Ernst reached into his dimensional pack and placed two items on the desk.
The first was a foot-long wooden sculpture of a black panther, intricately carved from thousand-year-old Chinese locust wood.
The second was a heavy, lead-lined test tube containing a peculiar, shimmering emerald liquid.
"The first is this sculpture," Ernst explained.
"It is a magical artifact I crafted. Locust wood possesses natural soul-nourishing properties in Eastern alchemy. I sealed a remnant soul within it."
Kerry looked at the carving warily. "A soul?"
"I extracted it from the Golden Army," Ernst nodded.
"It belonged to an ancient, battle-hardened warrior, proficient in a hundred forms of lethal combat. I sealed his pure, unadulterated combat instincts into this wood, locked behind a unique rune formation. If someone of Wakandan royal blood touches it, the rune connects their mind to the soul, instantly downloading decades of elite martial arts mastery directly into their nervous system. If they survive the mental strain, they permanently integrate the combat skills."
"And if they die?"
"Upon the inheritor's death, the soul is drawn back into the carving, bringing any new combat experience the host gained with it. It ensures the total accumulation of martial knowledge for the next user. Like a magical hard drive for violence."
Ernst tapped the panther's head. "Wakanda has always revered their Black Panther totem, and they constantly desire true, peak-human warriors to defend their borders. I am offering them a magical shortcut to create an unbroken lineage of ultimate fighters. I guarantee the King won't refuse it."
Kerry examined the sculpture, lightly brushing a finger against the wood.
Instantly, violent images of spear combat and brutal hand-to-hand takedowns flashed in his mind. He pulled his hand back, gasping.
"It's incredible," Kerry admitted.
"But Master Ernst, there is an issue. I acknowledge they will go to great lengths to obtain this. But how do we maximize the profit? If we trade it directly, it's a one-time transaction. If we gift it to secure favor, that favor will diminish over time in the political arena."
Ernst grinned confidently, pointing to the test tube containing the emerald liquid.
"Do you think I would make such a basic mistake in negotiations? The wood carving is just the shiny bonus. The real hook lies here."
Kerry picked up the test tube, holding it to the light.
The liquid had a bizarre, crystal-like viscosity. "What is this?"
"It's an alchemical reagent, crafted according to an ancient Daoist recipe used for strengthening bones and expanding qi," Ernst explained.
"But I modernized it. I hybridized the alchemical formula with the biological principles of Dr. Erskine's Super Soldier Serum."
Kerry's eyes widened. "Captain America's formula?"
"A vastly superior variant," Ernst corrected.
"Theoretically, a prolonged soak in this liquid can elevate a baseline human's physical abilities to match Steve Rogers, without the need for Vita-Rays. The drug comes in two versions: Standard and Deluxe."
"The Deluxe version guarantees survival and results in five to six times normal human physical fitness. Wakanda's desire to train a super-soldier to wear the Panther Habit makes this their only viable option. Without my serum, the combat knowledge in the carving will tear a normal human's muscles apart. They need both."
"I understand," Kerry said, a predatory smile matching his employer's.
"The key to ongoing cooperation lies in this drug. We don't sell them the formula; we sell them the doses. We make them dependent. They exchange the Vibranium for the serum, and even if they realize they are trapped in a pharmaceutical monopoly, they can't decline."
"Exactly," Ernst nodded.
"Their greatest advantage lies in their Vibranium reserves, but we hold the biological upper hand. Even if they break the contract, we lose a metal we don't strictly need. But if we cut them off, their entire Black Panther lineage program will be utterly ruined. That threat is fatal to their monarchy."
"Excellent. No need to worry about the CIA stealing our mining rights, then," Kerry said, thoroughly relieved.
"But what if Wakandan scientists manage to reverse-engineer this bath reagent? They are brilliant chemists."
"Let them try," Ernst chuckled. "Consider the ingredients. Aside from my proprietary manufacturing process, the crucial, absolute base material for my Super Soldier Serum is bone marrow extracted from the Celestial Phalanx we hold in Vault One. Do you honestly think Wakandan scientists can locate the corpse of a dead space god?"
Kerry, who was fully aware of the terrifying cosmic entity, shook his head.
"No. Without that specific catalyst, any attempt to replicate the serum will result in total cellular collapse."
With the major geopolitical concern cleanly resolved, Kerry relaxed and began updating Ernst on a few minor logistical matters.
Ernst, however, showed little interest, leaving Kerry to handle the day-to-day operations. Kerry was more than capable.
Ernst handed over the serum and the sculpture. After Kerry bowed and left the study, Ernst sat alone, leaning back in his leather chair, deep in thought.
Recalling the extraction of the ancient warrior souls from the Golden Army, Ernst began to ponder another, older mystery related to souls.
Years ago, when the Cradle of Rebirth was still a prototype and hadn't been fully automated, Azazel had to personally travel the globe to retrieve the souls of deceased mutants for resurrection.
During one such retrieval in Texas, the Red Devil had encountered a terrifying anomaly: a monster with a flaming skull, riding a horse wreathed in hellfire.
From Azazel's panicked description, Ernst had surmised the identity of the entity: the first-generation Ghost Rider, Carter Slade.
However, Ernst wasn't particularly interested in Slade himself.
The focal point of his interest was the artifact Slade was rumored to possess: the Contract of San Venganza.
According to occult lore, the Contract housed the souls of a thousand damned, corrupted individuals.
Ernst hypothesized that these souls, steeped in pure demonic energy for over a century, might be of an even higher quality than those sealed in the Golden Legion.
If he could feed them to Ghost, his spectral general would become an unstoppable, world-ending force.
Ernst had some very specific ideas about what to do with those souls.
"Red Queen," Ernst spoke into the silence of his study.
"I recall instructing you to search historical and occult databases for the last known whereabouts of the Ghost Rider, Carter Slade. Have you found any actionable results?"
"I have cross-referenced local legends, police reports of spontaneous combustion, and magical energy spikes in the American Southwest," the Red Queen reported instantly.
"I believe I have narrowed down his resting place. Do you need it now? I can provide you with the coordinates."
Ernst stood up, a dark anticipation building in his chest.
"Send them immediately."
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