A man's word weighs more than a thousand mountains.
When Hawk promises gratitude, he repays it.
When he promises vengeance, he delivers it.
Hawk's sense of justice is clear—repay kindness, destroy betrayal.
He had given Namor a chance: hand over the Wakandan remnant, Shuri, and he would let it all go as if nothing had happened.
But Namor refused. Worse, he attacked.
That left Hawk with no reason to show mercy.
If that was the case, then Namor and his underwater kingdom, Talokan, would share Wakanda's fate—obliteration.
But…
Hawk remembered that Marvel's Sea King, Namor, ruled Talokan somewhere deep within the Atlantic Ocean.
He just didn't remember where.
If Namor hadn't been severely injured, Hawk would have gone there himself, sweeping through the ocean floor until he found it.
But now, Namor was wounded—he wouldn't recover for at least a year.
So Hawk thought of the Five Good Men.
He knew that once they discovered Talokan possessed both vibranium and a miraculous herb capable of granting humans underwater adaptation, they'd jump at the chance.
And when they did, they'd do all the work for him.
There was no direct conflict between him and them—and their previous collaboration in Wakanda had gone quite smoothly.
Hawk got what he wanted: Wakanda's destruction.
The Five Good Men got what they wanted: Wakanda's vibranium.
Talokan was just another Wakanda waiting to happen.
They would locate it, and Hawk would handle the annihilation. Afterward, they'd pay him and take over the cleanup.
Perfect.
When Sharon heard him mention Talokan's vibranium and its strange underwater herb, she instantly realized what he was planning.
Her expression turned wry. "You might be the first person in history to command the Five Good Men like that."
Hawk smiled. "Just answer this—will they listen?"
Without hesitation, Sharon nodded. "Yes."
No question about it.
If she reported that vibranium existed beneath the Atlantic, the Five Good Men would mobilize a joint fleet immediately.
Even if they knew Hawk was using them, they wouldn't refuse.
Because what he offered was too valuable.
Simply put—Hawk didn't care about vibranium.
But the Five Good Men did—deeply.
So—
Sharon took out her satellite phone and reported the discovery to Director Hill and Commander Hand. After hanging up, she turned back to Hawk.
"The Director has already contacted the Security Council."
"Good. Once they find it, inform me right away."
Hawk smiled faintly. "Anything else you'd like to ask?"
Sharon nodded. "Merrick…"
"Dead."
"So the one we captured was a clone?"
"Yes."
"But you said clones can't have souls. Then how—"
"Watch."
Hawk extended his right hand, summoning from the underworld his spoils: a red apple with a bite taken out of it.
Sharon blinked. "A bitten apple?"
"Here's a hint," Hawk said, smiling. "Think mythology."
Sharon furrowed her brow, studying the apple as her mind flipped through countless myths.
A bitten red apple… what could that mean?
Suddenly, her eyes widened. She covered her mouth with both hands, staring between Hawk and the apple.
"You're saying… this apple—it's from Eden—"
"Yes."
Sharon inhaled sharply, stunned speechless.
Hawk calmly stored the apple back in the underworld.
Though shaken, Sharon quickly regained her professional composure as a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.
"But that doesn't make sense. The Apple of Eden was a fruit of wisdom. What does that have to do with a clone's soul?"
"Where does wisdom come from?"
"From consciousness?"
"And consciousness?"
"From the soul…"
Her expression shifted as realization dawned. Then she frowned again. "But where did Merrick get it?"
Hawk smiled.
"From S.H.I.E.L.D."
"What?"
"Merrick said he found it in some warehouse when you were using the Sandbox to analyze a strange organism."
He deliberately left out the part about divine guidance.
After all—
Sharon wore a cross around her neck.
He wasn't cruel enough to destroy the faith of a friend.
Especially when the truth was that God wasn't the good guy everyone believed.
Mephisto treated Earth as a ranch for souls.
But God wanted to turn it into a poultry farm.
"The Sandbox…" Sharon murmured, brow furrowed. "It does store countless anomalies, but I've never been inside myself."
She thought for a moment. "When I return, I'll request the Sandbox's acquisition logs—to see when that apple was added."
Hawk nodded and stood from the deck.
Sharon followed him up.
He stretched lazily, preparing to return to New York. Before leaving, he turned to her again.
"Any other questions?"
"One."
"Go ahead."
"The clones found after the Molokai Island explosion?"
"Burn them."
Sharon hesitated. Hawk added with a faint smile, "You know me—I've never cared about clones. If you people want to make more, fine. Just don't let me find out."
Sharon waved both hands. "No, no! We won't. Burning them is good—really good."
Hawk laughed. "Relax, Sharon. I'm joking. I know you, Hill, and Hand wouldn't try cloning me."
She sighed in relief. "So the clone crisis is over?"
"Yes."
"Good."
Then she remembered something. "One last question. Back in Georgia, when Natasha confirmed Merrick was a clone, you said it was related to the dimensional war. What did you mean?"
Hawk looked at her silently.
Sharon noticed his expression shift and hesitated. "Can't I ask? You said I could ask anything."
He shook his head. "Don't worry, Sharon. We're friends—you can ask me anything. I'm just wondering if you really want to know the answer."
Since the day they met, Sharon might not have been as helpful as his first friend, Anna, but she had always been genuine.
Even if her kindness had begun with ulterior motives, her actions mattered more than her intent.
Her name was saved in his phone—first name only.
So—
"This answer might be hard to accept," Hawk said quietly. "Think carefully. If you truly want to know, ask again—and I'll tell you the truth."
Sharon hesitated for only a moment before nodding. "I want to know."
"Alright. Ask."
"The dimensional war…"
"Heaven's Dimension versus Hell's Dimension."
"…Wait."
Sharon's eyes widened. "Heaven? You mean that Heaven?"
Hawk nodded. "Yes."
She drew in a sharp breath.
Seeing her reaction, Hawk smiled. "Are you sure you want me to continue? What I'm about to say might shatter your faith. You're a believer, aren't you?"
Her face steadied. She inhaled deeply and met his eyes.
"My faith and my job are separate. And you were a believer once too. I remember—you were in your church's boys' choir."
"I had a great voice," Hawk shrugged. "And they paid fifty bucks for singing at baptisms."
He smirked.
Though raised in a church, carrying its name for seventeen years, his faith had never truly taken root.
His soul came from the East—he believed in gods only when they were useful.
Sharon shook her head faintly, smiling at his bluntness, then focused again.
"So…"
"Heaven and Hell are at war."
"Yes."
"And that threatens my faith because…?"
"Unless…"
Her pupils contracted. "Heaven isn't Heaven… and Hell isn't Hell."
Hawk's expression remained calm.
"That's right. Heaven isn't what you think—and Hell isn't what you imagine."
"What do you mean?"
Sharon took a deep breath, eyes burning with curiosity. "Please. Tell me."
"That story," Hawk said softly, "begins with the birth of Earth itself."
…
(End of Chapter)
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