"I don't understand why you work yourself so hard, Solomon," came a deafening voice from beside him. Solomon, holding a calculus textbook and pencil, was busy scribbling equations onto a blank sheet of paper and didn't even glance at the source of the voice. He kept his head down, focused on his calculations.
The owner of the voice, however, seemed unwilling to let the mage off the hook. "I don't even know how you managed to bring all that stuff in here," it said. "Others come to me seeking power, but you're busy doing your own thing. Tell me, Solomon, why won't you accept my power? Surely you know that if you did, everything in human society would become meaningless to you. You could have anything you wanted."
Finally, Solomon looked up, his weary face pale, with dark circles under his eyes. "I'm too busy. No time," he said plainly. And he truly was. The Spirit of Vengeance within the Ghost Rider had been temporarily subdued by Father Moreau, who, in his foolishness, invited the Rider to live with him. However, Johnny Blaze, the Ghost Rider, wanted to return to Houston to see his girlfriend. Before he could get far, though, he was captured by S.H.I.E.L.D., forcing Solomon to intervene and hand Johnny over to the elder Ghost Rider, Carter Slade, for safekeeping.
But that was not the end of it. Father Moreau, furious after Solomon looted the monastery's cellar of most of its wine, showed up at his door throwing a tantrum. Solomon had to open a portal to send the priest back to mainland Europe just to get rid of him.
On top of these distractions, Solomon still had to process the spoils he'd acquired at the monastery. Jacob's Limbs—a near-divine, angelic combat technique—required extensive practice to master, and Kabbalah studies proved equally complex and time-consuming. All of this devoured his schedule, and as if that wasn't enough, he had to catch up on his science coursework. Jane Foster had not been shy about voicing her displeasure upon seeing him again.
"Even Darcy's further along in her coursework than you are," Jane had scolded him, with little regard for Darcy's embarrassed protests nearby.
Fortunately, Bayonetta had been far more understanding. She seemed to have completely forgotten about Solomon's dealings with Agent Romanoff. Each day, when Solomon returned to their apartment, she would let him rest his head on her lap. The warmth and scent of her presence were the best remedy for his fatigue, even helping him momentarily forget the combat training with Athena awaiting him the next morning.
His schedule had become so packed that he barely had any time for himself. Magic lessons, science coursework, and combat training filled every available hour. Even weekend dinners had to be prepared by his invisible servants. Normally, Solomon preferred to cook for himself when time and energy allowed.
Faced with Dormammu's unimaginative pitch, Solomon replied dismissively, "Dormammu, if I accepted your power, could you help me solve these equations? Could you help me ace my A-level exams? My goal is a perfect score!"
"Uh…" Dormammu was momentarily at a loss for words. "The Ancient One sent you to the Dark Dimension to study its magic, yet here you are reviewing science coursework."
Dormammu couldn't understand this odd mage. Most who encountered him were either terrified or subservient, yet this one had been casually coming and going for nearly a decade, treating him with the same disdain as his teacher. Truth be told, Solomon wasn't as bad as the Ancient One, but Dormammu knew he couldn't kill the boy. The Ancient One always managed to intervene at the last moment, and over time, Dormammu had resigned himself to their unspoken truce. As long as Solomon didn't draw excessive amounts of power from the Dark Dimension, Dormammu would leave him be.
"I'm here in astral form," Solomon explained seriously. "Studying in the Dark Dimension allows me more time to focus than in the material world."
Astral form not only extended his study sessions but also allowed his physical body to rest—a necessity given his packed schedule.
"You could study in the Vishanti's realm!" Dormammu roared, growing irritated. "Isn't Agamotto supposed to be all-knowing?"
Solomon shot him a disdainful look. "I'm not on familiar terms with the Vishanti," he replied. "Besides, the light in their realm is far too bright. You can't even see the words on the page. Now, stop bothering me—I have a classical literature course to review."
"And the story—"
"No stories today." With a wave of his hand, Solomon conjured a spell of shadow and haze that enveloped Dormammu. This spell, his recent creation, was the "Mage's Private Sanctum," a Fifth Circle abjuration spell capable of blocking sound and sight. Solomon's progress in magic had been quiet but significant, known only to the Ancient One. He had no interest in showing off.
He was far too busy.
While Solomon busied himself with reviewing high school coursework, Nick Fury was occupied sorting through the forces embedded within S.H.I.E.L.D. He had no time to concern himself with Stark's current troubles. When Fury focused, he truly earned his title as the "King of Spies." He unearthed some critical leads—this hidden power ran deep, with connections even to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Insight program. However, these leads implicated his superior, Alexander Pierce, making Fury suspicious of certain high-ranking individuals within S.H.I.E.L.D.
Unfortunately, Fury lacked concrete evidence for now—just suspicions. To prepare for the worst, he decided to set up a contingency plan. Agent Phil Coulson, nearing the end of his recovery, was the natural choice for this backup.
So, when Alexander Pierce approached Fury to discuss Solomon, Fury's strategy was to deflect. "You have no idea how bad his temper can get," Fury remarked after reviewing the data Pierce had compiled. He had to admit, he was impressed Pierce had managed to circumvent the magical contract restrictions in such a way. Still, he cautioned, "You absolutely don't want him to know about this. None of his friends or family are weaker than him."
"Can't we at least talk to him?" Pierce pointed to Solomon's school address on the file. "A good student at Windsor like him should be approachable. Thor is an alien, and Earth needs someone capable of countering Asgardian threats. Hulk is uncontrollable, Captain Rogers is just an ordinary man, and your agents are even less capable. As for Stark, he's neck-deep in trouble right now."
"He's irritable right now, Pierce," Fury said, continuing his effort to dissuade his superior from approaching Solomon. "That's something you won't find in the reports. Those agents only know one side of him. From what I know, Solomon Damonet's upbringing was anything but ordinary. He only goes to school because his family expects it. The agents think he's cruel, but his ruthlessness far exceeds their imaginations. He killed his first person when he was about ten years old. Does that sound like a normal person to you? Let me handle him. He doesn't like strangers."
"Didn't you say he's irritable recently?"
"His exams will end eventually. Don't worry, I'll take care of it."
Satisfied with this response, Pierce agreed to let Fury handle the matter. Fury, of course, had no intention of speaking to Solomon. He was merely buying time to continue his investigation and divert his superior's attention. As for Stark's problems, Fury couldn't help directly, but he could still offer some assistance through other channels.
The next day, Agent Hill paid a visit to Stark Industries and met with Pepper Potts. However, she also encountered an unexpected individual.
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